Meditation CDs
I went through a phase of trying money-making schemes, and the least successful was my meditation/relaxation CDs. I found some whale noise wavs on the internet and looped them for an hour. Over the top I recorded some encouraging, relaxing words every 5 minutes or so. So it would sound like 'reeeoarrr.... Roooo! Roooowwwaaar YOU'RE TIRED! YOU'RE SO SLEEPY, roooooarrr roooowaar YOU'LL BE WANTING TO FALL ASLEEP RIGHT NOW... Reeoooaw BE AT PEACE!'
I sold one on ebay - my plan was to undercut the competition by selling them for marginally more than the cost of the blank CD. The result was 15p profit, one negative feedback and the comment 'can't be bothered to return this'.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 17 Jul 2014, 9:55, 9 replies)

Yoghurty goodness.
A few years back when I was about 25 and as skint as they come, I found myself in the position of doing things to amuse my older brother ( then 27, and a doctor no less ) All for the wonderful price of £2. Things that included chugging some 'Daves insanity sauce', eating some menthol crystals etc.

this all stopped after the yoghurt incident.

After cleaning out the fridge, a lob that was LONG overdue, we discovered a strawberry ski yoghurt that's was about 2 years out of date. My darling brother looks at me and utters the words " two quid ".

Well the challenge was on and I opened the grisly pot. To my astonishment it actually looked okay, not as pink as it should of been maybe, but generally okay. It didn't smell like rot or anything, so I tucked in.

It didn't taste like strawberry, more kinda.....tangy.....fizzy almost, like the taste of licking a nine volt battery.

My brother grinned and laughed as I was forced to slurp down the whole thing, and slurp I did and won the prize!

For the next few days my toilet visits were unpleasant. It honestly felt like I was firing a hot brown laser from my poor poor annus. Was it worth the two quid?......you betcha.

noose peg.
(Noosepeg Muff punched your grandma, Fri 11 Jul 2014, 18:26, 11 replies)

Not so much what I did for money but more what I did when I had no money.
In the 2nd year at university a good chunk of time was supposed to be spent on a work experience placement. All 4 of my housemates had found placements on newspapers in their local town. I, stupidly, went for a placement in the next town over from my university. It meant a train journey but I really wanted to go work for South Yorkshire police for some reason.

The first couple of weeks went fine until I realised that I had no money for train fare and food. I decided that I'd buy a rail pass for the remainder of my placement and just eat whatever I could find in the house.

What I found was 10 boxes of sage and onion stuffing mix. For six weeks I lasted on what could colourfully be described as falafel.

My flatmates all returned from their placements looking jolly and positively rotund on the banquets they'd enjoyed living at home. I'd lost about 2 stone and had the pallor of a cancer patient with Aids.
(durtydriscoll, Fri 11 Jul 2014, 0:02, 4 replies)

There seems to be very few stories / anecdotes / cries for 'help' this week, so have some filler:
Once at the primary school I attended we were set the task of making a diagram of a microscope for our science homework. I completed my diagram during playtime (‘cos I’m a dweeb). Some classmates saw this and offered me money if I would do theirs. One wealthy little fellow even offered £10! How could ten year old me possibly refuse? I diligently worked through the lunch break drafting each pupil’s diagram, clever enough to make each one different enough to not be copied. The boys were delighted and each promised to bring me the money the next day.

They didn’t.

TL:DR - I once did the homework for several classmates, all of whom promised cash. We were all 10. I didn’t get paid.
(GonkHerder, Wed 16 Jul 2014, 14:48, 7 replies)

More of a failed attempt to make money but
Yeah, I've always been a bit of a cynic and decided one year around 8 years ago that Valentine's Day was a veritable gold mine, given the cheaply made saccharine shite that people buy in pound shops and whatnot.

As a prolific eBayer, I'd found various Chinese sellers selling all sorts of tat and formulated a plan. I managed to get a hold of 20 little "silk" bags for about 2 quid, and the idea was I'd buy a load of Swarovski crystals, fill the bags and then sell them as little Valentines treats to people at a marked up price. I managed to find some "SUPER DELUXE FASHION ACCESSORY PRINCESS SWAROVSKI CRYSTAL TOP PRICE x 500" for £5, figured 25 crystals in a bag would look pretty good and could sell them for maybe £5 a go, making a nice little profit.

Now I know a LOT of what I just said sounds stupid in hindsight (rather embarrassed to write it) but a bigger batch of stupidity was about to come down the pipe.

For whatever reason, I had been oblivious to the fact that crystals are not all the same size. My happiness at getting such a big haul of these knockoff crystals started to wither when the telltale jiffy bag came through with the big green sticker on it to say it's from China. It was telltale because it was the smallest jiffy bag I had ever seen.

Sho' nuff, I open the envelope to find a tiny, tiny little zip lock bag filled with plastic crystals, each one literally slightly bigger than a grain of sand (and that's not the modern mis-used literally. This was LITERALLY literally).

They just about filled one bag. I gave up. To this day when I sort through old stuff I will find the odd little brightly coloured grain here and there.
(Tiny Blindfolded Horse Kitten sound car horns would end road rage, Fri 11 Jul 2014, 10:03, 31 replies)

Laxative
As a student (read: poor young person) I got roped into a medical trial at the university hospital. A mate who studied medicine convinced me it was essential for the advancement of humankind that the doctor folk understood the cells that line our colons. I sympathised with them greatly, especially since they were offering more than a month's worth of beer money to willing candidates.

On the day of the clinical trial, I was basically required to get up on an empty stomach at 6am, take a 3 liter bucket they provided, fill with water and dissolve a bagsy of powder. Laxative powder. Then I was to follow a steady schedule of downing the horrid stuff, tasted like watered down chalk. The taste was not nearly as bad as the effect: within 30 minutes I was on the toilet where I stayed for 3 hours. 3 hours of emptying my bowels and drinking horrible liquid that I knew would leave me very soon. Basically I was giving myself an enema. I imagined I was female and weeing. It didn't help.

That was part one. I then had to leave the comfort of my toilet and my house to bus it to the hospital. By the time I got there it was loo-o-clock again. The trial finished with an endoscopy: I watched on a monitor as my bum got closer, then saw the insides of my intestines. A little pair of tongs appeared into view, grabbed a fold of intestinal tissue and with a swift yank a sample was taken.

I spent another ten minutes shakingly drinking orange juice. Finally I went home with a fat CHEQUE and a 3 liter bucketful of good karma.

TL/DR: I did a wet poo and got a tube up my bum

EDIT: I spell pretty me
(Bosch balls, Wed 16 Jul 2014, 21:03, 7 replies)

you can refuse payment if their money isn't in the right format
smaller coins are only legal tender as follows:

1p and 2p coins - up to 20 pence only
5p and 10p coins - up to £5 only
20p and 50p coins - up to £10 only
£1, £2, £5 and £20 coins up to any amount

shut up, i think it's mildly interesting/useful to know.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 14 Jul 2014, 16:54, 156 replies)

As a skint teenager hitching to Reading festival,
an old man gave me a tenner to watch him have a wank in the woods.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Thu 10 Jul 2014, 18:46, 6 replies)

No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women..
This doesn't really fit because it wasn't me but it was something I witnessed, but hey. I've nothing against buskers (my own musical abilities stretch no further than a vocally schizo version of Tiny Dancer at karaoke, yo-yo-ing between startled cat and Bing Crosby after a stroke) but the one I encountered back in early/mid nineties Nottingham really sticks in the memory.

Some friends and I would head into Nottingham on the train for a bit of shopping back in the day. They had some decent clothes shops back then (not sure about now, it's been years since I've been there) and we'd buy some sandwiches and take a walk up to the castle to eat them before heading home. It was nice. There was a spot somewhere near a church and a Marks and Spencer, if memory serves, where you'd usually spot some crusty with a guitar earnestly belting out Simon and Garfunkel songs.

This day was a rare treat as the spot was taken up by a rather smartly dressed man and his keyboard giving it his best Gary Numan. The problem with this guy was he never seemed to get through a complete song as, when he spotted a potential donor he'd quickly segue into whatever song he though would best get their attention and, more importantly, their money into his bucket. As we passed by clutching about four shopping bags apiece 'Are Friends Electric' quickly merged into "You're S.H.O.P.P.I.N.G..you're shopping!" accompanied by an encouraging wink, grin and nod towards the bucket. Pretty fucking cheesy but funny enough to get a few pennies from us.

We decided to sit by the church with our sandwiches to see what else he could come up with. Spotting a woman in a red dress approaching we prepared for the worst and were duly rewarded with the obvious. He managed to jump for Chris De Burgh to Come On Eileen with surprising ease on the approach of someone wearing dungarees (pretty tenuous) but I'll never forget the bemused looks he got from poor family he must've assumed were Japanese when he launched into The Vapors most famous (possibly only) hit. Why he felt the need to actually 'turn Japanese' during part of the chorus by pausing playing to free up his hands I'll never know. I don't know if his extra efforts got him any money that time as we'd already exited pretty sharpish.
( Ms Shenanigans put something interesting here later, Thu 17 Jul 2014, 10:12, 5 replies)

I spent days digging up graves in Hendersonville Memory Gardens
in Hendersonville, Tennessee but unfortunately
I was unable to raise Cash.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Mon 14 Jul 2014, 18:45, 2 replies)

Mrs Vagabond maintains that she's only going out with me for a bet.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 11 Jul 2014, 9:35, 5 replies)

My brother bet me a tenner that I couldn't last a month without booze.
This was May this year. I didn't realise that it had 10 Friday/Saturdays, 2 bank holiday weekends, a best friend's wedding AND my team in the FA Cup final. Fucking hell. Somehow I managed it, and fell off the wagon is massive style on June 1st. The ensuing hangover wasn't something that I'd wish on anyone.
"Won" the tenner though.
( Fray Brentos *mega-belms*, Thu 10 Jul 2014, 22:55, 2 replies)

Worked for a telecomms company. Was compelled to move to the extreme South West for her family reasons.
No job, no transport, no public transport. All I could get in the way of jobs (in the town that she was happy being back amongst her bretherenfolk)was the dole for 6 months, then the holiday season happened for Cornwall. I sunk to my lowest, applied and I won the position to scrape together a paltry wage (before national minimum wage) which was about £119 a week.

I was picking up the wage for an officially chosen Theme Park Ride Operator job at Flambards in Helston. I only got pre-empted up as an operator (in favour of some long-standing guy who was hoping to elevate by meritocracy from bin collector via time served) because I had A-levels which meant I was a better bet at understanding health and safety rules. That did not make me popular.

Got out before the end of the season because a real job turned up in electronics that I could actually get to on a day to day basis. That job is a low point that, while not having to suck cocks or work at a call centre, was my absolute nadir.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 10 Jul 2014, 21:59, Reply)

Cow Scarer
I had a job driving a golf buggy around the overspill car park at Henley Regatta. I had to use the buggy in a threatening manner in order to scare the cows away from the cars. On top of £10 a day I also got some mineral water and a sack of humbugs.
(pipipiper I miss my pond, Thu 10 Jul 2014, 20:01, 1 reply)

I heard labradors will do anything for money

Proof:


( Zuowan, Thu 10 Jul 2014, 15:52, 4 replies)

Since my regeneration
I've been unemployed, sweeties, and have been forced to take on menial work to tide me over until I can find something better.

Thankfully not at a call centre or in the service industry. No! Ohe no! Found something better... sort of.

I'm working as a prabblenoox declarer.

Though this task is menial to me, it would be beyond you lot with your pudding brains.

So I will put up with it for now... but oh, what a waste of my talents!

Laigh8erz!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Tue 15 Jul 2014, 21:49, 11 replies)

Along with my day job, I also do some outside consulting.
Mainly consists of people sending me a bunch of papers, which I read, then along with 2 or 3 other similar people, produce an opinion on whatever the problem is.

I have a specific routine for reading the papers. I carefully plan my day around it, ensuring I have them ready to read at the right time.

Thus, I often earn over £100/hour for taking a crap.
(username failed moderation, Mon 14 Jul 2014, 9:43, Reply)

I wrote two master's and one bachelor's thesis for my students. Got paid good money, not regretting it.
Oh, and I sold hashish when I was young. Ahh, good times.
( Mastarbeiter came into your mind on, Mon 14 Jul 2014, 8:51, 24 replies)

I work with computers

( DinivanX Has stinging piss after drinking Pact Coffee, Fri 11 Jul 2014, 17:06, 1 reply)

This might be a pea...
I let someone jump kick me in the chest for £3.50.

I also pierced my foreskin for fiver.
(Thor McLegend FUCK SHITPANTS PAC MAN, Fri 11 Jul 2014, 16:44, 11 replies)

Went to a brothel in Barnsley for a male escort 'job interview'
I was going strong until the hagged Mademoiselle told me to get my wang out. Totally wimped out. Didn't get any money, but the woman gave me a menthol fag. I was 18.
( mookay immune to icons since, Fri 11 Jul 2014, 14:45, 21 replies)

Advertise PACT Coffee.

( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Thu 10 Jul 2014, 15:52, 2 replies)