No Junk Mail stickers.
So, you stick one of those stickers on your mailbox.
Rest easy that you've saved the planet from some horrible scourge. Right?

The pamphlets and catalogs are printed. They're sent to a distributor who then sends them to the people who collate them for your area and then hands the catalogs out to the people who then shove it in your mailbox.

Most organisations have to pay their local councils a hefty fee in order to send bulk stuff to a recycling depot. On the other hand they can chuck it in a bin and either claim it as a tax debit or at least write it off as a tax loss. Either way they can still make money off the loss rather than having to pay fees to the local council.

Of course the onus really lies with the person delivering your junk mail. They've been given enough paper to fill all of the mailboxes in their/your area. Any mailboxes that say "Don't fill me" they could send back to their distributor. And the distributor could send those catalogs back to the warehouse where the printer/owner would have to pay their council.
Or the deliverer could just chuck all the extra paperwork in the bin. Where it then gets picked up to become landfill. Rather than being recycled, because that would cost money.

In short - recycle your catalogs. Preferably by putting them through a 5 pound hand shredder to then donate to your local abandoned pet haven. That way everything you didn't want to get cause you couldn't afford it will be shat upon by innocent fluffy animals - that should make you feel better about yourselves, yeah?
(snigglywiggly, Sun 29 Jun 2014, 8:49, 45 replies)

An old urban legend, told to me in good faiith
So this guy goes to Edinburgh university and decides that (this in the time of student grants) food is frankly too expensive to bother with, so he buys a hundredweight of porridge oats and lives on porridge for the whole term, having calculated that it's a decent healthy source of calories, fibre and protein.

Three months on, Scotland has its first case of scurvy since WWI.
(rogerzilla, Sat 28 Jun 2014, 19:02, 17 replies)

homebrew
an uncle of mine decided that it'd be a great idea to make homebrew in his shed for the christmas party. he spent a ton on all the equipment, got it set up and then spent ages waiting for it to ferment. finally, he decided it was ready the day before the party.
it was disgusting and ridiculously strong. nearly everyone who tried it threw up.
so, wasted money on the homebrew kit, wasted money having to buy 2 new rugs and wasted money having to get a plumber out at christmas.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 28 Jun 2014, 14:27, 11 replies)

There was that time
when I was supposed to be buying a briefcase-load of depleted uranium from a Nigerian trader I bumped into down the pub, and he insisted on being paid in gold bullion. Now I looked into gold bullion and it's a bit expensive and hard to get hold of, but what I did find was a Fisher Price My First Arms Deal set, which came with some nifty little gold bullion bars in fetching yellow plastic.

So I went down the pub again on the Friday, as we'd arranged, and showed him the little bullions bars and asked him if they'd do. He said "You're having a laugh, aren't you? These are made of plastic." So I said "You've got me there. I thought the crap lighting in here might make them look a bit more real, you know?" He laughed and said "I can get you some depleted Play-Doh for 'em if you like." We guffawed heartily and bantered on into the night like old friends, until I spilt his lager and lime, at which point he tore off two of my fingers with his Fisher Price Junior Secret Policeman pliers.
( .Yeti., Sat 28 Jun 2014, 12:20, 1 reply)

False Life?
Edit: What I meant to say was that I bought a weed whacker and it didn't work, so I returned it for a better one.
(drunksteve is not drunk, Sat 28 Jun 2014, 8:42, 6 replies)

Cheap ass shredders
As happens over time, one tends to collect a lot of personal documents and being somewhat of a pack rat my Mom had loads. Eventually, the day came and it was time to dispose of a whole load of these documents. Now the question came how best to dispose of it all. Mother had a few options available; send the papers to a company that specializes in shredding, buy a shredder, DIY shredding AKA tear it up yourself, or throw it away.

Sending the papers to a company for shredding was too expensive. There was too much of this crap to tear up ourselves. The information in these documents were too steal worthy to simply throw away. This left buying a shredder the only real option. So a trip to the local Rymans it was to look at shredders. Now there were a load of options for different mechanical shredders varying in different prices. Now for my mother this was all too expensive so what does she opt for? A cheap ass hand crank shredder for a fiver. Her justification, there wasn't that much to shred, just two bags worth really...

Back home, she unpacks the shredder and begins shredding documents. This was working fine until about the fifth load of papers were inserted into the shredder. By this point, I should point out that the blades were already beginning to go quite dull and the hand crank was laboring. I estimate that by about a third of the way through the first bag, the hand crank shredder was already destroyed. Mother was of course disappointed and all I could say was that's what you get for buying a cheap as shit shredder.

The shredder for a fiver story is one that I now bring up anytime my mother is choosing to be a cheapskate for no good reason.
(roguedevil, Sat 28 Jun 2014, 2:14, 11 replies)

Betty Boo was pretty fit at the time.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Sat 28 Jun 2014, 1:05, 5 replies)

The former Mrs Fister was not the most financially astute
She bought a pair of 'wonderful designer shoes from Portugal - only £10 - what a bargain!'.

However, they were a particularly unusual rusty orangey-brown colour and she didn't have any clothes that actually matched them. She then spent the next few years trying to find something to match - without success.

They eventually went to the charity shop, having never been worn - presumably where some other dozy bint picked up 'a bargain'.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Fri 27 Jun 2014, 16:12, 4 replies)

"these are £1.49 each or 2 for £2"
"but you don't like them!"
"i know, but that's really cheap!"
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 27 Jun 2014, 15:52, 1 reply)

Stag Doo
Before going on my mate's stag doo, we all decided to buy "hilarious" plastic breasts to wear.
Most bought some made of sturdy rubber but I went for the cheapest, fragile plastic, ones.

Not surprisingly mine fell apart almost immediately and I had to look on jealously at all my full breasted mates.

That's right. They were false economy comedy falsies.
( MyFrontFellOff ; his mouth full of teddies, urinating defiantly, Fri 27 Jun 2014, 12:47, 8 replies)

burr
burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr.

burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr
burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr burr.

burr burr, needless to say I had the last laugh.
( $$ ✅, Fri 27 Jun 2014, 11:03, 4 replies)

Stephanie Flanders doesn't know what she's talking about.

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 27 Jun 2014, 9:04, 1 reply)

GOT IT!
Mark E. Smith is a notoriously exacting taskmaster and during the recording of The Frenz Experiment he wanted to ensure there was no reverb on any of the tracks.

He therefore employed a very short man with a big bushy white beard who carried a fishing rod to oversee this aspect of the recording.

The Fall's echo gnome, he.

LA8ERZ SWWWEEEEETIES!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Fri 27 Jun 2014, 7:58, 4 replies)

Second class post.
Some years ago I was arranging travel for children going to residential holidays. This involved spending many hours on the phone to The Trainline, then sorting scores of tickets into neat little piles and packaging them up, with instructions, for the escorting staff.

The last time I did it, everything was ready about three weeks in advance and I handed them over the the chap who ran the organisation for posting. Did he post them? Did he hell. He kept the envelopes on his desk for two weeks, "in case there were any changes" (there weren't, and it would have been easy to send amended instructions or more tickets if there had been) and then, with three days to go, he posted them. Second class.

The result was inevitable. Only one packet of tickets arrived on time, and replacements for all the others had to be bought at short notice - so no advance purchase deals.

Total cost to the organisation: a shade under £500

Total savings from using second class post: £1.62
(ubergeekian, Fri 27 Jun 2014, 7:38, 1 reply)

I settled for your mum when I could afford your nan
but I really fancied a bag of space raiders
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 23:31, 3 replies)

The Fall's
something
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 22:44, 1 reply)

Some mammals from the river bank decided to go roller blading

Unfortunately the roller blades were of poor quality and the animals fell off.
Otters have been let down by buying a cheap skate.

Like I give a fuck anyway.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Thu 26 Jun 2014, 19:58, Reply)

Bruce Dickinson left Iron Maiden for a while.
In the meanwhile they employed "Blayze" Bailey from Wolfsbane as a singer and frontman.

Nope.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 26 Jun 2014, 19:43, 7 replies)

Micky Flanagan

( MEATSNAKE Richard Hammond, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 19:21, 3 replies)

Damn Shopping Channels
Late one evening, whilst making my way through a cheeky bottle of Merlot, I found myself watching one of UK TV's excellent shopping channels. Most of the stuff they were selling was predictably tat - Shoddy jewellery for the uncommitted, revolutionary developments in mops, etc - Until one offer caught my eye.

It was a garden ornament. Not just any old ornament though; It was a figurine, custom-made to look like anyone you wanted. You just had to send them a photo of someone, and they'd put that face on the cheeky little chappy.

"NEEEEEEEEEED!", my wine-addled brain immediately hollered. I was undeterred by the price, including extortionate P&P. I wasn't even put off by the fact that, as is obligatory for anything sold on a shopping channel, it was 'decorated' head to toe with cubic zirconium. I had to have him. And so I grabbed the phone, placed my order and, the next day, emailed a photo of myself to the address I'd been given. I was going to have my own likeness standing in the garden!

Anyhow, as you've probably already guessed, what I received in the post a few weeks later was somewhat disappointing. Yes, it was a garden figurine. And yes, it was covered in shit 'jewels'. But the face looked nothing like the photo I'd sent. In fact, if anything, it looked more like legendary Mancunian singer Mark E. Smith.

If you ever visit, make sure I show you my Fall Zircon Gnome Me.
(costas, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 18:55, 1 reply)

George Osborne.

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 18:42, Reply)

blah blah castrato blah blah expensive blah blah could not hit top C that was my
falsetto economy
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 18:40, Reply)

Haha, puns based on the question!

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 18:35, 3 replies)

Car tyres. Tyres are not all the same.
Always bought cheap brand makes of tyre called things like 'Kumho' and 'Jingzboing' just to get through the MOTs. Then one week after an unexpected bonus in the pay packet, treated myself to some Bridgestones for the driving wheels (FWD).

Holy crap. What a difference spending an extra 50% on the boots makes.

All this time I've been blaming the lazy ass designers of my car for cheaping out on the suspension geometry, the garage for fucking up the tracking, the road menders for not resurfacing and the engine makers for lightening the block by casting in aluminium (less weight on the steering and driving wheels), that Rover 216 was a fucking handful in the wet and more than 5 degrees either way in a downpour would result in slidey understeer straight towards the nearest tree or crash barrier.

Nope. Me and my cheap ass tyres. You're attached to the road by four hand-sized patches of rubber anchoring a ton/ton and a half of metal at 70-80-90mph, sometimes in rain. Get decent tyres. Even if it's on a cheap ass car like a Rover 216. Might save your life.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 26 Jun 2014, 17:57, 22 replies)

I've got Jamie Oliver on my couch.
You could say he's a sofa mockney.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 16:16, 8 replies)

Well, this question was asked on Tuesday, and has run out of steam on Thursday,
the day the question is traditionally asked. So, now we know what QOTW needs. The question just needs to be changed every two days, and everything will be sweetness and joy, like back in the old days.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 15:37, 4 replies)

Blah blah blah
False economy.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 15:32, 2 replies)

During the Indonesian reign of Sukarno 1949-1965,
he paid for national improvements by printing more money leading to hyper- inflation, and the collapse of the economy causing mass food shortages.
It was a false economy. Hahahahahahahahahahaha, am I doing it right?
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 15:31, 2 replies)

I was less than impressed at an impressionist's attempt to rip off the presenter of Name that tune
Yep, a false O'Connor meh
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 15:25, 2 replies)