Password

Once an enjoyable game show with Allen Ludden, now passwords are the bane of my life. A true test of memory, it's not just remembering the password, but which password for which application. Personal email, work email, work computer, home computer, home alarm, work alarm, the ATM, work voicemail, home voicemail, this blog - the list expands exponentially. 

For security purposes, they are never written down, and must be more devious than birth dates, or family names. One day,  they will flee my dustbin-like cranium, and leave me out in the cold, albeit in peace - as ever - BB

Chico: You can't come in unless you have the password. I'll give you three guesses. Here's a hint, it's the name of a fish.

Groucho: Mary

Chico: Ha-ha, that's a no fish.

Groucho: Well she drinks like one. Let's see, is it sturgeon?

Chico: You crazy a sturgeon is a doctor who cut you open when you sick.

Groucho: I got it Haddock!

Chico: I got a haddock too. 

Groucho: What do you take for a haddock?

Chico: Sometimes I take-a aspirin; sometimes I take-a calamel.

Groucho: I'd walk a mile for calamel. 

Chico: You mean chocolate calamel. I like that to, but you no guess it.  - "Horse Feathers" from memory, so may not be exact. Also the problem with my passwords. By the way, in the movie it was swordfish.