Where did you take your honeymoon?
What is your spouse’s middle name?
What is the date of your wedding anniversary?
How many times a week does your first-born child say, “I love you?”
I just want to join a yahoo group or sign up for online banking; I don’t need some lazy content provider throwing my single, childless status in my face. Am I supposed to dream up answers for these questions, irrelevant for a good percentage of the population? And if I do, am I expected to remember the name I give to my make-believe Prince Charming or his childhood pet?
How about this, dingdong.com? How about asking some questions we can all collectively be annoyed about, say, for example, what year did you realize that life was going to be a giant disappointment? What body part do you particularly loathe? What hooch always results in you dropping trou at the end of the night? With whom did you have the most underwhelming sexual experience to date?
I want to bludgeon these questions with the lamp that shows up every time I log into my investment account. And if Merrill Lynch decides to swap it out for an image of a diamond ring, I’m going to have to transfer my funds.