Since I am so concerned about identity theft, my credit cards are all issued in the name of "Igbert Bum," because Igbert Bum is an identity that nobody would want to steal. Not only is Igbert Bum an extremely embarrassing name, but you may also recall that Igbert Bum reached number 5 in the Billboard Hot 100 with his loser anthem I Got Nothing, a moody ballad that revealed the singer's profound lack of personal possessions and hair-raising financial instability. Even the money Igbert Bum made from this success was famously squandered on an uninsured McMansion that subsequently burned to the ground, leaving Igbert homeless and penniless once more. Igbert Bum is surely not a name, therefore, to make identity thief hearts beat faster in their unscrupulous chests.
It is an amusing irony, then, that by protecting my own identity in such a manner I could be accused of stealing Igbert Bum's. So let me say here and now that I am innocent of this charge, since I purchased Igbert Bum's identity from the man himself at an International Identity Auction held on the banks of the Limpopo river in Botswana. Indeed, some might even claim that I paid over the odds for the identity of Igbert Bum, considering that equally unattractive names like Osmund Belch and Martin Bormann sold for much, much less. Yet I consider the price to be a fair one and all parties were satisfied with the exchange. The real Igbert now has a little money to help rebuild his life in the Kalahari, and I can enjoy shopping for big ticket items on the internet with my fake-Igbert credit cards. In fact, the only drawback so far is that I had to appear on an episode of MTV's golden oldies show, lip-syncing to I Got Nothing while dressed in period spandex. But that is a small price to pay, I'm sure you will agree, for my personal and financial well-being.
