Poo-muncher
Watching and having a polite drinky-poo one night in a Northen Uni bar, a large rugby chap suddenly, and loudly tells his tablefull of fellow drinkers:

"If you put a tenner on the table, I'll go and shite in a pint, come back and drink it!"

After a lot of "he'll never's" and "he won'ts", the fellow drinkers clubbed in a tenner. As I was drunk and curious, I chipped in a quid - after all, you know you'd pay to see this...

The chap then disappears to the toilets, and returns with a large brown mound in his pint glass, which, after a little crowd teasing, he takes a manly swig from.

I'm not ashamed to say I nearly barfed, as did everyone else. He then, majestically, sweeps the money off the table, pockets it, and says: "It were only a Mars Bar, you twats!".

I didn't begrudge him the pound, the whole performance was sheer showmanship.
( DrPrunesquallor is determined to post more as of, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 18:00, 3 replies)

I'm not so sure whether you would call this a con or not
but I certainly felt like a dickhead after that is for sure.

Near the end of 2006 I had been hearing about these "Legal Highs", namely BZP products (were legal at the time, not anymore). Anyway, the description sounded pretty good, and I thought to myself, surely it's gotta be safer than getting E? I've taken E before and never had any real problems with it, well none that I will speak of anyway LOL!

So anyway, I ordered a bag of 3 tablets, something like £15, so actually more expensive than E, but what the heck, if it's safer and legal right?

So it arrived in a small popper bag stapled to a piece of cardboard. Looking back, I feel like such a fucking idiot, anything could have been in those and in fact I think *everything* was in them.

Worst experience of my life, watching the walls melt, things move around the room to name a few side effects, but also with massive splashings of auditory hallucinations and paranoia, all for a whole 36 hours!

Conned? I should fucking coco!

btw, not touched a single substance other than alcohol since.
( Firkinfedup last shat on your wife's tits at, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:56, Reply)

bum
mrs said to me last month,"does my bum look big in this?"
how did i know she didnt want a honest answer.
the conning bitch.
ps.im still wanking till she calms down.
(brussellsprout Im a fucking genius. official., Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:47, 2 replies)

A little too trusting for my own good...
ok... this is a little embarassing... I'll try to keep it brief.

Lived for 3 years in that london in a nice block of flats, lots of rental properties so there were always people moving in and out etc.

Bloke rings doorbell, introduces himself as having just moved into flat at end of corridoor and is jangling keys in confident manner, nice to meet you says I thinking how nice it was that he came to say hello...

Long story short he proceeds to tell me that he has a taxi waiting outside, and his wife isn't in so could he borrow some cash to pay the taxi driver and hell pay me back as soon as she arrives, it was only seven quid.... my initial thought was no... but it was only £7, and in the same situation I'd like to think my neighbours would help me out (there were no cash machines nearby)so I go in search of some cash... I return and say there you go £7 happy that even if I never got the cash back I had been a good samaritan... the clever bugger then goes 'oh no, sorry its £17' making out like I had misheard... so I handed over £20... *hangs head in relived shame*

I told my mates what had happened, and they cheerfully called me a gullible tosser whilst I argued that he could be genuine and that they would feel bad when he dropped the cash back the next day, al the while with a sinking feeling in my heart.

I never did get the cash back, and I overheard someone else talking about 'some conman in the building knocking on everyones door'...

On a similar vein, people don't often run out of petrol, the guy asking you is just trying to get cash together... even I don't fall for that one ;)
(fatharry, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:38, Reply)

Free sweets
When I were a lad, there was a sweet shop on the way home from the school bus. The woman who worked there looked totally stupid, and wouldn't flinch when we used to take a bag of sweets to the counter that was so big it needed a wheel barrow, and then when asked how much was in there, we'd say "err, 20p?.."..

She did ID me though when I tried to buy a copy of Escort despite being only 13. Maybe she wasn't so stupid..
(mejt, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:35, 2 replies)

When I was about 14
I was heading up to Edinburgh from London for an orchestra recital (yes I know) and for various reasons ended up travelling on my own. This was probably the first time I'd done this over that sort of distance. While waiting for the train at Kings Cross I was accosted by the standard homeless alcoholic mumbling crazy I usually find asleep on my doorstep these days. However, seeing as I originally hail from the leafy part of Kent, having this shambling freak totter towards me was mildly terrifying to say the least.

He did the usual ask for, "Can I ave a quid mate so I ken get inna hostel' while I looked wildly round for help, but sadly to no avail.

Trembling, I got my wallet out and disaster! I only had a tenner, which was supposed to last me til I met up with the others in Haggisland. Knowing I was on the verge of being brutally stabbed and probably raped I chucked it in the bloke's general direction.

He took it with a look of confusion on his face, paused, and then said "Nah mate, thass too much", and tried to give it back. I was slightly dumfounded by this, and in my state of panic and shock tried to insist he keep it.

There then followed a bizarre sequence of us each trying to force the other to take the cash. In the end he pocketed it reluctantly but insisted on giving me the grubbiest roll up I have ever laid eyes on.

So there you have the story of how I paid £10 for my first ciggy which i subsequently smoked in the train toilet somewhere around Newark.
(Milo Minderbinder, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:34, 1 reply)

I've been naive in the past....
... naive enough to fall for Legless spoofing my mobile but not so naive as to leave my b3ta username lying around unused.

Given that he's posted a story about me, its time i fessed up to not so much conning him, more stealing his username for a couple of years.

Cheers,

you twat
(i anglepoise, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:28, 1 reply)

Drugs, drugs, drugs
As you may know I have a longstanding recreational interest in the above (cheesey quaver, using not selling) and have paid the price many many times - good money for all sorts of random tablets, god knows what as liquid ket, blotting paper run through an ink jet and sewing machine (for the perforations) as LSD as was and the torn out barcode from a rizla packet "zebras innit", however by far my lowest moment was back in the day at this scutty jungle rave in a laser quest in Wandsworth (not The Laserdrome - that was wicked!) After finally managing to score some speed off a pre-chav girl (the word didn't exist then, just the people) my friend and I had two big lines racked up. I greedily went first. It felt slightly rougher than the usual "punch in the face" sensation from the cheaper powders so I grimaced, had a dab - it crunched in my teeth - not good, so I poured the whole g into a glass of water. It sunk straight to the bottom - not even a hint of any solubility. The bitch had chiseled the plaster out of the wall - we found the hole when we went back looking for the now long gone scutter.

Regrets - not supressing the grimace long enough for my mate to do his line!

Later I will tell you how I was conned out of a year of my life by not lying to the police.

Anyway - Let that be a lesson to you kids.

ED:-
It does work the other way too - the first time I came across magic mushrooms of the foreign variety (not our small liberty cap type) it was openly on sale at a V festival. I gave the mushrom seller loads of grief about them being from Tesco's and dyed green, bet they wouldn't work etc. Anyways ended up agreeing to a double dose of "Philosopher's Stone" for free. I had a fantastic festival but I did miss a few bands I wanted to catch. I congratulated/apologised to the geezer the next day (when I could see) as I paid for my mushies!
(jmaxi returned again on, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:28, Reply)

Free CDs
I'm sure I'm not the only one to have done this..

Not sure if they still do it, but while I was at uni there were always leaflets in magazines for CD clubs where you buy one and get about 10 free.

Every month, we would sign up as someone new, with a false name and get 10 cds delivered for nothing.

Although I was having a great time conning them, I also felt conned in the closing stages because when I went to collect the last package from the doddery old bastard that worked in the uni postroom, he said "Sorry, I remember your name being XXXX last week and now you're telling me it's YYYY - I don't think so sunshine, cor blimey etc.."

Most of the cds were late 90's crap anyway..
(mejt, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:15, 1 reply)

I tuned in to 'The real hustle' top knock one out over teh hot blonde piece
only to find she's gone brunette, it DOESN'T suit her and she now looks like a retarded frog.

Hook, line and sinker

EDIT: Well, i usually go for a brunette every time, but i just think in this case she was better as a blonde. Of course i still fucking would!!
( Victor Meldrew, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:10, 3 replies)

Due to overuse
People around me are starting to talk about women whose close falsely represent their assets as committing "bra fraud".
(teebie jeebie, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:09, Reply)

Did I win or not?
Picture the scene…

Bristol Temple Meads station, wino-smack head approaches and says, 'Mate, I'm short of my train fare home, can you give us a quid so I can get myself to Weston Super-Mare?'

I oblige.

Next day, same ned approaches and says, 'Mate, I'm short of my train fare home, can you give us a quid so I can get myself to Weston Super-Mare?'

All said within ear shot of the British Transport Police officer standing near us. (BTP aren't real old bill, they just ride around the country listening to football fans singing songs).

So, following yesterday's 'donation' I am starting to smell a rat and I ask the smack head, 'How much is the fare?' he replies with something along the lines of 'a fiver' and 'I only need a pound' - clearly, he's trying to con me. One, Bristol Temple Meads is a shithole of a station and you wouldn't want to wait there even if you were skint, two, you wouldn't make the same mistake twice, if you ran out of money yesterday, you wouldn't get a train to Bristol the following day and three - I had huge doubts about his other four-quid.

Anyway……. I've piped up with, 'tell ya what, you give me your four quid and I'll go and buy your ticket!'

Copper start to snigger. Smack head bloke looks confused.

Smack head mumbles, 'I might need more than a quid actually' - I replied, 'well, give us what you've got and I'll make up the difference!'

Copper starts to see something good might happen.

Copper pipes up with, 'That's very kind of the gentleman isn't it? Tell you what, once you've got your ticket, I'll escort you on your train journey to make sure you get to Weston without any problems!'

And so that's what happened. Smack head ended up giving me no money, which was a shame, so I was down about six quid, but the copper had a whale of a time getting to watch someone who really didn't want to go to Weston being forced to go there.

Technically, I'm out of pocket and to a degree, I was conned. However, in terms of being stitched up good and proper, the smack head who didn't want to go to Weston Super-Mare was!!!!

I'm claiming a win for that.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:09, 8 replies)

Dunno about you, but I think Asda are trying to con me...


Also, HMV are having a sale. But, I think I'll wait until it's over to buy this.
(__, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:03, 4 replies)

Aged eight and a three quarters
My local paper featured a weekly competition with a cash prize. I was a skint teenager with an expensive girlfriend habit, but by regularly sending in an entry I could top up my pocket money with enough for a trip to the flicks or a packet of three.

I figured, correctly, that "Uncle Arthur" of the "Kiddie's Korner" was never likely to invite me in and thus unmask me as considerably older and spottier than the talented junior I claimed to be.
(enile, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:02, Reply)

Talking about The Real Hustle...
A very odd thing happened to me on the way to a lecture the other day. As I got on the bus, I noticed a large film crew sitting on the back seat. It's something you don't miss. I paid for my ticket and sat down. Two stops later, the fat guy from The Real Hustle" wearing a suit. This was odd.

Fat Guy announced that he was from the council and was asked to check everybody's tickets/bus passes, etc... Whilst he was checking them, he kept stealing bags and purses of the bus passengers, only to give them back twenty seconds later.

My stop arrived. In the process of me leaving the bus, one of the BBC cameramen urged me to sit back down as they needed to film some reaction shots.

"And why can't I leave exactly?" I wondered aloud
"Well, if we cut to a different camera and you keep appearing and disappearing from the bus, people are going to think it's faked"
"So, to make it look like it isn't faked.. you're faking it?"

It was truly an odd morning.
(__, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 17:02, Reply)

The Class Slapper...
.. was going to show me her tits for 20p.
Instead she and her behemoth of a mate bundled me into the stock cupboard and kicked me in the balls.
(Vic Flange, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:59, 1 reply)

A very non-funny response. You have been warned.
I’ll tell you how I was conned.

I was conned by all of western civilization, who told me that to really be happy you needed to marry and have kids.

I had a very lonely childhood, to say the least- which is not something that I’m willing to go into here- so when I was in college and I found a girl who seemed to really like me, I stuck with her. When we got out of college I stayed with her for the next two years, in fact. All seemed to be good, and I was finally happy for a time.

Then I was going to a different college (I didn’t get a degree at the first one) and was going to be moving a few hours away. She flatly stated that she wasn’t going with me unless we were married. As I was 22 at the time and she was 21, I thought it a little premature- but she’s a Catholic and more stubborn than three mules, so eventually I caved in. We married, I went to college and got a degree, we moved to Syracuse and settled down.

Two years later I gave in to the other Catholic pressure she was bringing to bear, and we had our first kid. After the third one arrived I got fixed, so no more of those- a move of which she did not approve in the slightest, but as it’s my nutsack, it was done anyway.

And then reality settled in.

She soon discovered that being a parent involves a lot of very hard work, very little time to one’s self, and some compromises being made. As this didn’t agree with her ideas of what marriage and kids should be like, she got increasingly mental- and started getting very abusive to me.

I tried for another ten fucking years to keep the marriage going, because that was what everyone told me was the Right Thing to Do. It all fell apart during my second year of engineering school, and I damn near failed out. Somehow I managed to get through, got my degree, and found myself basically back where I was at the age of 21- single, no money, driving a beat-up old car, struggling like hell to pay my bills. Only thing was, now I was 41 instead of 21, and about twenty years behind where I should have been. And I had three teenagers depending on me besides, as their mother is still a mentalist and gives them the emotional support one would expect from the director of your average orphanage.

Don’t misinterpret- I love the three of them and am glad to have them, but honestly, if I had known what lay ahead I never would have brought them into such a crap situation. But what did I know? Everyone always tells us that unless we marry and have kids our lives are wasted, so I bought it hook line and sinker.

Western civilization is full of crap. And the fucking Catholic church needs to get out of the Middle Ages and join us in the 21st Century. I see far too many people who have fallen for the same con and are wondering how the hell it all got so crazy and miserable, when all they were doing is following the rules to happiness…

Sorry for the lack of humor. I just hope that maybe I can serve as a warning to someone.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:56, 5 replies)

Sprouts....
Some lad I used to know bought a sprout for £20 thinkin it was weed. Serves him right the prick, should have checked before handing over the cash and come on, lets face it, any one who mistakes a sprout for weed deserves to be ripped off anyway.
(tedalaki - Like Purple Aki but better, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:55, 1 reply)

Spanish summer students
As a bright 10 year old who's dad worked in a bank I was aware that money was money and banks would take what others wouldn't.

So I got dispatched to one of those summer camp things run by PGL so my parents could get some peace.

Some spanish kids decided to con me and were very pleased to sell me some £1 notes for 50p each having found the shops wouldn't accept them as they had been withdrawn, they were just useless paper. They were so pleased with themselves the next day they sold me some more.

I showed them to my dad with a big grin, he gave me some more money and said see how many you can get.

After 2 weeks word had got around everyone of the 500 spanish summer camp kids and they'd offloaded about 50 old notes onto me that presumeably their parents had left from holidays or they got from dodgy bureau de changes in Spain.

Then my Dad took me to his bank and I deposited all the notes into my bank account :-)

You see, even when a bank note ceases to be legal tender on the high street, banks have to honor them for years to come.

Suppose this was the conman double bluff, they thought they were conning me and I knew I was conning them!
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:51, 1 reply)

Drugs are fun.
I remember selling a ziploc baggie to a kid who claimed he smoked loads of pot.

Fair does, me and three mates sold him a bag of mixed herbs, dried grass, basil etc...

he comes in the next day boasting about how he smoked it all and he was "so stoned, it was some good shit".

We made a tenner each out of it, the prat.
( moohalaa, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:50, 1 reply)

Double con
I used to be quite a pot-head in my young padawan days so when I left home for the first time to live in Africa for 6 months, naturally I wanted to find a good supply.

Luck would have it that after a week I found a group from the local village that could get some for me.

We met up and they handed me a carrier bag full of weed. It was only bush weed and full of seeds, but it wasn't bad.

I asked how much and they said 20 Rand.
" 20 Rand?" I said replyed (it worked out to be about £2. Mistaking my remark to mean that I though they were ripping me off they haggled down to £1.40. When I accepted they looked at each other, knowing that they'd just got a great deal.

It was a fantastic situation: they walked thinking how they'd just ripped me off, and I walked off with a carrier bag full of smokeable weed for less than the cost of a pint. If only they knew how much that would have sold for in UK!
(ab1kenobe, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:47, Reply)

Oral...
I once told my wife that swallowing a blow job was an old Eskimo cure for her sore throat.
She didn't believe me, although I was interested in her ancient Native American cure for clearing up an ulcer on my tongue...
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:44, 1 reply)

Gypsies in the centre of Rome

When I was on a trip to Rome with my colledge; I was conned like the proverbial patsy I am.

Whilst in argubly the busiest area of Rome the
'Spanish Steps' I had noticed some commotion around a group of fellow art students. Not to be taken back by jumping straight into a volley of argument I dived right into this mass of Art Students and earthy Romany tipes and in enquired as to what was up.

The next moment I was being asked to hold out my little finger by a rather crusty maustach'ed gentleman in a le-coq-sportif shell suit; things did not bode well.

He began his craft by wrapping a piece of highly coloured thread around my little finger with such deftness and speed that I was temporarily mezmerised and entered some kind of trance of admiration. Before I knew what had happened and with an intense speed the thread had transmutated into a wrist band, a coloured wrist band..on my wrist.Erm.

20 euros, he ordered, not without a forceful imperative.
Now being English; with no sense of rube or haggle about me, I accepted this shoddy and increasingly unwanted 'gift' for his asking price. Now this is where I really got buggered; all I had was a 50 euro note, and low and behold he snapped it up,(after hi-fiving me mind) shortchanged me and vanished into the crowd. Fuck!

Soon after this incident I became increasingly paranoid as to the real meaning of this colourful gypsies braclet now adorning my wrist..Thoughts of it acting as some kind of calling card to inform the other Roman gangsters and hoodlums that I was a patsy and easily japeaple raced through my mind; and subsequently (not without embarresment) I hid it from view from any passerby I suspected..
( Lomticks Be yourself; everyone else is taken., Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:43, Reply)

Everton
Several years ago at an away match at Goodison Park, half time refreshments please barkeep. The lady turns away and comes back with pre-poured beers. I ask the lady, "What brand of lager is this, Fosters?", "Er yeah" she replied somewhat uncertainly.

I peered behind her to see that the beer was in fact cheap supermarket weak lager being poured from cans for which we were being charged £2 each, expensive back then.

Scallies eh? Mind you, she was probably doing us favour, Fosters is shit, and to be fair she didn't nick my wallet, watch or shoelaces.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:43, Reply)

Free cable
I got free cable TV for 4 years in my old house. Everytime they threatened to cut us off (having not signed up/placed an order when first moved in) I would say, don't do that as I do want the service. Can you send me sales info or get a sales person to call as I might like to take the extra channels package.

Thus the disconnections team would do nothing as there was a potential larger sale.

Then when the sales person would call up I'd say, "Yes, I was interested in some extra channels but I've changed my mind and will stick with what I've got". Thus they assume nothing to be changed on the account.

That normally stalled them for 6 months to 1 year.

It all changed when BT sold the cable network to NTL. Then nothing happened for 18 months while NTL worked out what they'd bought.

I moved before they ever requested payment.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:41, Reply)

Apparently
A friend of mine when he was little once pulled the perfect con on a smaller child:

"I'll swap my shiny 50p for your dull £1"

Worked like a charm.
( Green Spanner and his magical lack of activity, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:38, 1 reply)

apparently.....
some of the images on this site have been DIGITALLY MANIPULATED!
(jmaxi returned again on, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:37, 1 reply)

Not Me...
But an old neighbour used to go to a computer fair nearly every Sunday in Stratford East London.
There is always a lot of people there, selling lots of computer parts dirt cheap.
Well one day he goes there in search of a cheap laptop. After walking out dissapointed at not finding onehe walks out of the fsir to find a couple of stalls setup outside. Being a nice sunny day he thought there was nothing wrong with this, and was even more delighted to see they had a cheap laptop for about £200.
After seeing it working he coughed up the cash for it while one of the sellers ought out a pre-wraped box. My neigbour goes back to the car and opens the box of his new purchase to find 2, 2 litre bottles of Dr. Pepper (he doesn't even like it).
My neighbour fuming at being conned like this marches back to the stall, we'll were the stall was to find the guys had done a runner.
Needless to say he learnt a lesson that day, and never told the wife about his expensive purchase of Dr. Pepper.
(metalhead41, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:37, 1 reply)

Drugs - real ones...
...I often get people try to con me (paramedic) for pain relief drugs - mostly morphine or penthrane. You have to be really careful not to give drugs to someone who doesn't need them and even more careful to not with-hold drugs from someone who does need them. After all, even drug addicts can suffer genuine pain.
Anyhoo - to the point: a colleague had a known drug user complaining of chronic pain which seemed a bit suss. She decides to err on the side of caution and prepares to administer a modest dose of morphine. She gets access into a vein and injects 10ml of saline to ensure she's in the vein (standard practice) and the patient - thinking it was the morphine - lets out a big sigh and says "Oh yeah, that's helped heaps".
Needless to say she didn’t bother giving the actual morphine.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 18 Oct 2007, 16:32, Reply)