Recent economic events make much more sense
if you assume that Baldric is alive today, and had a cunning plan to make millions of dollars by starting a bank and going broke.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 6 Jul 2012, 2:41, Reply)

To Pass Unseen
There was once an unusually-interesting guest on the old TV panel show "To Tell The Truth" (example here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-QSz4R7mR0). The guest had an unusual skill: he could pass through a room and meet and talk with everyone there, but no one could ever remember him afterwards. Lowered eyes and voice, and an uninspiring mien, made him so unmemorable that he was all but invisible. Indeed, as they showed on TV, he had already met all the panel members the previous week, but none of them ever recalled seeing him before.

I last used this man's method to pass through a sandwich line without alerting one of the sandwich makers (a friend) that I was there. I ordered my sandwich, passed directly in front of him, paid, sat down, and ate, and he never noticed.

The method always work when you want to surprise people by abruptly appearing in their midst without first alerting them. It's perfect for spies!
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 6 Jul 2012, 1:29, 1 reply)

I had a cunning plan to make my fortune with AAA.
Alcoholics Anonymous Anonymous. We had a girl start at work who was very much into AA. As she often talked about it, I decided to read a bit about it. After reading about all the twelve steps stuff, I came across an article that argued AA works because there is a group conscience that people don't want to let down.

I reflected on this, and thought what if someone just wants a drink, but their group conscience stops them from doing so? That's when I thought up AAA, a group to help AA members get off the twelve steps program, and back on the booze.

Nothing ever came of it because I'm a massive waster who never does anything.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Fri 6 Jul 2012, 1:14, Reply)

It's nice watching others formulate what they consider to be a cunning plan, without the wits to realise how transparent they are.
I'll start with the slyness of those children who think they might just be able to manipulate the stupid grownups.

In a supermarket when I was still living down in the South West, a little kid stuck in the queue at a supermarket till had obviously been schooled to STOP ASKING FOR CHOCOLATE and yet there it was all laid out, enticing and shiny. Instead of the direct approach, the mum (and all within a 10 foot radius) could hear a voice couched in guile as it piped up- "Oooh. Look mum!" While pointing at the rack of Galaxy bars and Maltesers. A few seconds passed as the kid waited to see if the mum would react to the bait. Alas, only silence.

After the tension grew to unbelievable levels for everyone overhearing this mini-drama, a smaller voice issued forth- not whiny, not insistent, but quietly reflective... '...I LIKE chocolate'. Zero response from mum (for which I congratulate her). They leave the scene without a massive fuss, which is the complete opposite of what would have been expected.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 5 Jul 2012, 23:35, 2 replies)

Not my story. Read the Bachelor Home Companion
in which you can find instructions to not hoover the ceiling or to do any washing up at all, ever (that one involves a lot of jelly and digging a hole in the garden).
(barbedwiretumbleweed Fast 'n' Bulbous!, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 23:11, 1 reply)

taking the artworld
I was once a poor student.
This was partially my fault. I don't like working. Never have, never will. I find it undignified. I was living off a small student benefit, this was in the days where the government paid you to go to Uni, but after rent and sundries I was constantly skint. Unwisely, I organised a ski trip which my friends all agreed to go on, then quickly realised there was no way I could ever afford the 3 grand it cost to participate.
As fate would have it, I noticed an ad in a magazine offering an art grant prize of up to 5 grand. I knew I would be competing for it against actual artists wanting to do real arty things, so I needed both a convincing proposal that would use materials up to 5 grand, and a believable artisitic persona to adopt. I settled on sculpture, firstly as i had no talent for painting, but mainly because I thought I could steal the materials I could cost in my proposal, and also a friend of my dad had an arc welder he could lend me (how hard could it be?).
I wrote a proposal and did some preliminary sketches, basically a 13 foot tall robot man tearing at the sky, with a television for a head (I already had the broken tv). I can't recall the exact words I used, but there were references in there similar to "a reaction against the isolating mediated experience of broadcast consumerism" and "juxtoposition of the modern waste culture with the negation of the self". I didn't need to dress differently, there is little difference between the clothes of a tortured artisitic recluse and the indifferent slob I was. I did intentionally treat all my interactions with the board who were making the decision with utmost seriousness: no humour, jokes or ambivalence about my work. It was IMPORTANT that this statement be made. I calculated that if I appeared to utterly believe it, they would to. And this is the way it played out. (this is an important tip I would give any artist, whether sincere or full of shit like I was). I went through a few rounds of judging, with some very earnest and surreal conversations. It was a curious mix of greed and guilt for me. I could almost feel the snow of my ski trip, but part of me was thinking, "these people are so sincere and positive about what you are doing, and it's all complete tosh".
I won the prize, and blew all the money away skiing within two months. this wasn't the end of it. They started gently pressuring me to produce the artwork, and this became more insistent as the months and deadlines went by. I started getting formal letters asking me to account for the money, and their tone changed from hopeful, to disappointed, to as assertive as those arty types can be. They were under pressure themselves, they'd awarded a prize and had nothing in return. I figured If I gave them something, anything, they would call it even, as it was becoming a hassle always trying to avoid them. After about 8 months I commenced builiding it the alley next to my flat. Having no money, I stole what I could. A mate and I walked out of my Uni with a huge xerox photocopier which become the base. People opened doors for us, unaware of the theft. Lecture room chairs ripped off their sockets, chemistry equipment, aircon ducting, it all went in there. Welding is actually a lot of fun and suprisingly easy, at least to a certain low standard. When it was done, I didn't want to meet with the board in case they asked me for an accounting of what I spent the money on. With the help of some friends, we moved it in the middle of the night to the place it should have gone a year ago. Later, the commitee put a plaque on it with my name and "untitled", and there it stood for years, on the corner of a busy intersection in central Melbourne. The threatening calls stopped. I ran into one of board judges a couple of years later, we'd made eye contact so it was too late to scarper. Suprisingly, she said they all liked the finished piece, though I suspect this was more from relief after a long time believing they'd been scammed.
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 21:24, 7 replies)

Today I had a cunning plan involving getting a lot done at work.
As I'm sure everyone reading has no doubt guessed, I am instead wasting time on the internet until it's time of us all to head down to the pub. At one point three of us were actually watching paint dry rather than working as planned, but you can bet that when it's time to drink we will do so industriously.
(louveciennes , Volvospotter, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 20:37, 1 reply)

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 20:23, 4 replies)

serious backfire
i once had a cunning plan to seduce a bloke i rather fancied. it was party time at my parents' house and i knew this bloke had been invited. during the night, i had nabbed an empty lemonade bottle and poured into it bits of alcohol from various bottles and topped it up with cola.
here comes the cunning part.
he was a smoker and he didn't know the area so, while he wasn't looking, i hid his fags. noticing they were gone and knowing the shops were shut, he asked if anyone knew somewhere he could buy smokes. i volunteered to go with him to the nearest garage and took my bottle of "cocktail mix" with me.
i made sure i took him to a garage a mile away, giving us plenty of time to drink my little potion. we walked, we talked, we bought fags. we also sat off on the field on the way back for a smoke and to drink more.
sitting in the moonlight, my head suddenly started to spin. i looked over at blokey and he smiled at me. i smiled back, albeit somewhat greenly.
he leant in for a kiss. i puked on his shirt.
needless to say, he was a bit miffed and i never got a snog.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 17:23, 6 replies)

I'm going to adjust the spacing on some text.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 17:05, 14 replies)

The magic cupboard
This is a fairly serious suggestion.

I am, it's fair to say, not the world's most organised or tidy person. Without external pressures*, I tend to live amongst piles of stuff - I put things down, then if they don't move for a day or two, I stop seeing them. I don't think I'm actually a hoarder, though it probably depends on your precise definition.

So, I have formulated a cunning plan, if I ever find myself in the financial position to carry it out. It's called the Magic Cupboard.

Imagine that there is, in every room, a cupboard with a touch screen just above it. When you want an item of property, you use the screen to locate it in the inventory, using all the usual favourites / recent items / search that you'd find on an online store. Once you've identified the item, you hit "get", and a few moments later a soft ping lets you know that the item is available in the cupboard.

When you've finished with it, simply put it back in the cupboard, and it will just disappear.

You wouldn't need any other storage in the house; everything would be available via the cupboards. No shelves, closets, wardrobes or cabinets. Your whole attitude to where things "live" would change.

To make this work, the house would have a fully automated robotic warehouse next door, which would do all the getting and putting. This is completely feasable using current technology - it's just a matter of having enough money to be able to afford it.

* the WIFE, generally
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 17:03, 13 replies)

My family often makes jokes based on wordplay
In fact, you could say we are a ...

wait for it ...

do you know what it is yet?

That's right, a bunch of tedious wankers who should just fuck off right now.
( wakeupandsmellthebacon, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 16:44, 6 replies)

On holiday in Mallorca
It was my family and another family sharing a house. They were our neighbours from back home, who had a kid same age as me.
We were just learning to swim in the pool, and had gotten fairly proficient swimming with flotation aid. Our dads put to us a challenge: swim to the deep end and back with the flotation device without touching the sides earns you 300 pesetas (this was before the euro). Do the same but without any aid, and you get 500.

There was a tacky souvenir shop down the road that sold, amongst other things, this awesome keychain with a tiny "rambo knife". Dull as anything and really just a gimmick but I wanted it.

So my cunning plan was, do the swim with flotation device first, then later without, netting me 800 in total.

Scheming bastard that I was.
(tyrellsOwl, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 16:31, 1 reply)

My Best Man-to-be, a couple of other friends and I were sitting in a greasy spoon, nursing significant hangovers.
We were discussing food, and it's place in our relationships. I told them that I'm shit at cooking, and hate it, and Mrs Vagabond is ace at it, and loves it. Therefore she does the cooking, and has the right to use anything and everything she wants to, and I wash up without question.

My best man stared into the distance, digesting this, and said, "Vagabond, man - you need to get a dishwasher."
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 16:11, Reply)

FIRST
pricks
(Leone Sextus Denys Oswolf Fraudatifilius Tollemache-Tollemache de Orellana Plantagenet Tollemache-Tollemache sig sig sig sig sig sig sig sig sig sig sig sig si, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 15:04, 5 replies)

I wanted to earn a shitload of cash
……and saw the amount of cash the authors of Harry Potter were making but didn’t have the ability to think up anything creative and wanted to make something more adult than a kid that goes to school to learn magic.

It was then that I had my cunning idea and popped down the shops copied a couple of the readers fantasy letters from Razzle, Penthouse etc and then added some weak Twilight style plot stolen from a fan fiction site as filler (with my copy of MS Word auto replacing character names for me). For good measure I also went through it with a thesaurus and changed a few words to ones that I knew most of the audience would not bother to look into (main target I was aiming for were bored housewives/ Teenagers/ Anyone who has the sex life that’s as exciting as a trip to a local industrial estate so they wouldn’t be looking into this book for the filler). Result is I’ve made a killing and 3 badly written books that everyone seems to want to read.

Love


E.L. James
Tilts head to side and runs finger over lips
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 14:47, 4 replies)

Am I jumping the gun Baldrick
or are the words "I have a cunning plan" marching with ill-deserved confidence in the direction of this conversation?
(Shamelesspendant Better dead then smeg., Thu 5 Jul 2012, 14:31, Reply)

I got revenge on everyone for moaning about last weeks QOTW
by posting an emotionally manipulative message on the voting thread that caused cunning plans to be selected!

Shit, I didn't think this one through.

*goes back and votes for revenge multiple times*
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 13:40, Reply)

So, basically, we wait until nightfall, and then climb out of the rabbit.
Thus taking them all by suprise, and totally unarmed!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:53, 1 reply)

Runner
When I was at uni one night in the student union my mate won £100 on the fruit machine and being a ace mate and a generous chap decided that we would blow the lot that night on beer, drugs and curry.

We drank copiously in the union bar until we spotted a chap who could sell us an 1/8 of leb. We then wandered to a local park with a few carry outs and smoked a decent amount of said doobage. We then went to a curry house where we ate some fine curry washed down with a great deal Kingfisher. We were by this time as battered as a Scottish dinner and we hatched a cunning plan. We discussed this in hushed conspiratorial tones we would do a runner and then spend the saved cash on more drink and drugs.

We all staggered to our feet fumbled around for fags, wallet, coat blearily eyed the door which appeared to be filled with waiters.

"going somewhere lads?"

shamefaced we paid up and wobbled off home

We of course were being incredibly loud and pissed so our plans were easily overheard

What a bunch of twats :(
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:40, 12 replies)

How to attract women
It started down the swimming pool. As I pootled around the shallow end, I clapped eyes on her for the first time - a vision of older blonde loveliness in a tiny yellow bikini - and I was in love. Over the following weeks, my passion for mature blondes in postage-stamp bikinis grew, and I decided that I must - somehow - have one of my own. Acutely aware of my own immaturity, I knew from the outset that actually speaking to one of these angels was out of the question, so I opted for another, more drastic cunning plan.

Kidnap.

My cunning plan was cunning in the extreme: I would sit on my bike at the top of the hill on our 70s concrete housing estate until a blonde goddess appeared. Then, I would swoop down, gather her up, take her behind the communal bins and force her to wear a yellow postage stamp bikini while I stutted up and down. Foolproof, I am sure you will agree.

It was as I swooped down the hill on a trial run (the target being an unfortunate cat which had sidled out of a hedge), that I realised I was doomed to failure, mainly due to a number of factors which are now utterly obvious:

1. The target is unwilling to be scooped up and will run away, causing you to fall off your bike and end up covered in blood, snot and sick

2. My bike had three wheels

3. I was six years old

I look back through the filter of the years with a burning sense of shame
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:21, 6 replies)

Aged 11, I resolved that I would have a girlfriend before I was 13.
As plans go, it sort of stopped at "stated aims".
On the bright side, I was drowning in tail by the time I was 12.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:20, 3 replies)

Might have posted this before in some form.
Flying with a colleague to Montevideo, with Varig, the Brazilian airline.

It was a pretty empty flight, and we were bumped up to first class. Lovely.

I rather fancied one of the spiffy leather toiletry things they give out at the front of the plane, and hatched a plan to get one. I told my colleage of this, and he said they wouldn't give me one.

I casually approached the steward, and told him that I had unfortunately forgotten my toothbrush, and would they possibly have one that they could give me. The steward smiled, and with a wink said "Sure, go sit down, I'll sort you out".

Rubbing my hands together, I returned to my seat and gloatingly told my colleague that I was getting a washbag, so he could go fuck himself with his 'they won't give you one' nonsense.

Several minutes later the steward appeared and handed me a disposable toothbrush.
(username failed moderation, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:09, Reply)

Namesake - you're a cunt.
Sorry. But....
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:07, Reply)

Dishing the dirt
A cunning plan to minimise washing up & related chores

1) Have 2 dishwashers installed into your kitchen
2) Own exactly enough crockery & cutlery to fill one of them, and no more
3) Keep them all in one dishwasher. As you use them, place them back in the other one.
4) When that's full, simply run the cycle, then begin moving things in the other direction.

Hey presto: no need to ever empty the dishwasher and put stuff away.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:07, 17 replies)

I devised a clever way to come fourth.
As you can see.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:03, 1 reply)

so close

(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:03, Reply)

first
was my cunning plan to be first, mission failed
(Catrim, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:02, 1 reply)

First
I can't stand Firsties, I don't know why I did that.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 5 Jul 2012, 12:02, Reply)