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This is a question Get Rich Quick

Jabboy contacted us because he's skint. So what have you done to make money fast? Did you actually make anything, or were you just ripped off by someone who really was getting rich quick? Did you have to sell your soul?

PS. Jabboy is available for rent on 0870 88673242

(, Thu 31 Jul 2008, 16:57)
Pages: Latest, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, ... 1

This question is now closed.

I am dead when my wife gets home from work...
I've just tried the Roulette betting thing...all was going well, winning a pound each time. Nice.

The last 12 or so rolls failed to produce a win so now I'm £2048 down and I can't afford to place another bet...

If anybody can think of a good get rich quick scheme, I'd like to hear it. It's got until 3pm to work and get the cash into my bank account...
(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 8:20, 7 replies)
Probably left this idea a little late but that's just me all over!
Right, by my reckoning there are about 70k users on b3ta, so if everyone sends me £1+ I'll have got fairly rich quickly.

As an incentive whoever sends me the biggest donation I'll give them 25% of my overall takings.

Just message me your email address and I'll send you a PayPal invoice.

Look forward to hearing from you soon.


*EDIT - £64 so far - keep it coming...
** - £151

(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 8:13, Reply)
I was in the pub on Sunday
and in the ladies toilets they had a machine with a pair of straighteners attached advertising 90 seconds worth of straightening for £1. Someone's making a fast buck of vain drunken women there!!

Length? It's longer than it looks, I don't straighten it ;)
(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 8:06, Reply)
Be a tight bastard.
Im sure the secret to being rich is simply being a tight bastard. The richer you are, the tighter you get too.

I had a friend who worked at a supermarket checkout and was suprised at how many people would stand there an argue about their bill being out by 5p because a tin of beans should have been marked down. They would stop the whole line get the managers involved and get people to go back.
Its understandable if youre really poor and that 5p is the difference between affording another meal before the next giro comes in. But when said persons then swan off back to their privated plated Mercs, it really does make you think.. hmm wtf?

A friend of mine recently was saying how someone was arguing over €10 on their medical bill at the clinic. Yet they live in a house worth over €4million .

Do you think these people would bend down and pick up 1ps off the floor if they find it?
(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 7:49, 5 replies)
The banks not locked...
I can recall when we were kids back in the 70s and it was ok to leave kids in cars while you duck in to buy some smokes, dad had left 3 of us in the car parked outside the bank in the main street. Next to the front door was the night safe, a sturdy metal box with a single keyhole covered by a sliding metal latch that resembled a switch. Bored by the wait, my elder sister and I were leaning out of the window telling passers by that we'd seen the security bloke go passed and hed not locked it, and if theyd flick the switch the safe would open. To think back im suprised how many adults two kids under 10 could encourage to have a go at opening the safe. No one got rich quick that day but three bored kids got a giggle at the expense of a few of the more hopeful adults.
(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 5:33, Reply)
Umm......Apple shares
I bought 100 shares in AAPL 2 days ago, and made $800 today.
Aftermarket trading is still pretty strong, so hopefully tomorrow I'll make even more.

Buy Apple shares, kids! (But sell between $180-$190)
(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 4:41, Reply)
I was in a Playground Mafia, scamming money..
Back in the day when Pokémon cards were every kid's wet dream in the playground, a few of my friends and I became quite proficient in the use of Microsoft Paint and subsequently launched our own business selling bootleg cards.

Every other lunchtime, we'd obtain permission to use the school's computer room, and march up each clutching a stack of "Energy" Pokémon cards. Now, for the uninitiated, "Energy" cards were deck-fodder, used in the game, but mostly to fill out the deck and convince your mates you had tons more cards than they did. Since they were practically useless to traders, my friends and I developed a means to scan rare Pokémon cards, edit them, and print them out before carefully cutting around the print-out and sticking it over the top of an energy card. Voila: one bootleg, rare, Pokémon card. Naturally, it was an obvious fake, but the other kids were happy trading anyway! Ace!

This wasn't enough, however, and we soon set our sights on the big leagues. A friend of mine, let's call him Tom.. as this was his name, obtained a few packs of Chinese cards which, as any hardcore Pokémon card fan of the time will know, had a different image/logo on the back. We used a few Energy cards from these Chinese packs to print rare Pokémon cards out onto, only this time we were "marketing" them to the playground in some sort of organised-crime fashion as rare, Japanese cards printed on rare.. Japanese.. paper?.. Whatever, they bought it, and business boomed.

We were soon making about £2 per bootleg card, and had worked up a neat little kitty. We didn't stop here, oh no. We soon had an even bigger idea: to start a "tuck shop" in the playground, which allowed us to sell sweets at modest prices. The headmistress agreed, and as you would imagine, within weeks, this had grown into a fully-functioning front for our bootleg Pokémon card business.

It was probably the highlight of my lower-school years.
(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 3:47, Reply)
Jeans and Jumpers
I got a bonus from my old company and bought some designer jeans and jumpers from a wholesaler to sell on ebay. Unfortunately, ebay was swamped with these goods and I did not make my money.
I do have 20 jumpers (ages 2-14) and a few jeans (waist 32 leg 34) for sale at cost to b3tans!!

£2.50 plus postage for jumpers
£5 for jeans plus postage.

Length? erm 34 inches
(, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 2:16, 3 replies)
Incorrect prices
I'm unfortunately cursed with a hyperactive conscience which prevents me taking advantage of individuals or corporations in the pursuit of financial gain. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I've stunned the chattiest till operator into silence by pointing out when they've undercharged me, or given too much change.

Occasionally this works in my favour - Tesco's policy on incorrect prices used to be that if they'd charged you something other than the stated price, you got the item free. That resulted in a free book (something about plants) when I tried to point out they'd undercharged me by a pound.

Sadly they changed this policy a little while back, so they'll now only charge you the lower of the two prices, less the difference. However, this also worked very well recently, when I bought a load of blueberries which had been marked down from about £2 a box to 30p. The difference there, you'll quickly appreciate, is £1.70 a box - hence they paid me £1.40 a box to take them away. I didn't stop grinning all day - and the freezer is still half full of blueberries.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 23:46, 3 replies)
Buy One, Get Lots Free
A couple of Christmases ago, WHSmith had a particularly good BOGOF offer on a lot of their DVDs. I'd decided to buy a couple of the David Attenborough series' for them, but a few days later discovered they already had one of them.

I looked for the receipt in order to return the DVDs, but had lost it. Never mind I thought, they'll usually exchange something without a receipt, just not refund it.

They couldn't have been more helpful about it, particularly when the lady behind the counter helpfully mentioned that there was a BOGOF offer on DVDs, and I could actually have two boxsets in swaps for the one I was returning.

Admittedly I didn't exploit this for all it was worth, so this may not be strictly on topic, but the potential was there for a very lucrative, and virtually risk-free con.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 23:37, Reply)
domain names
I met a guy, before I met the cute Slim Tall Goth.... who had bought up loads and loads of Olympic/Britain based domain names, about 3 years ago - which was pretty savvy. Unfortunately he didn't like my flouresent (ermm...spelling...) orange hair...which is why I am still skint, working two jobs, and he is probs loaded....

So...erm...let that be a lesson...!!
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 22:54, 1 reply)
Young Enterprise
Loads of schools offer a 'young enterprise' scheme. Basically, you pretend to be a business for a year - sell shares at school (up to the value of £5), sell something, and if you're lucky organise a prom and make millions.

Well, that's the plan. Usual result is that the people running it run out of effort and stop bothering, and sell something crap like bubble-blowing liquid.

We thought we'd do something different. We picked the four least-unmusical in our group, raided the drama department and decided, for Valentines' Day, we were doing "Singing Valentines", using a barbershop quartet.

£3 per valentine. This was a bargain - we disturbed classes in order to sing, and it took a minute of our time. Certain teachers used it to disturb rival teachers' classes.

The best bits? Well, we got a day off school to do it. We didn't ask, we just took it.

We also made a huge profit (something ludicrous, like £500). It worked out at £40 to each YE member, even after we had paid back all the shareholders their share plus half.

Free £40 isn't bad at all. Especially when the only downsides are running around, singing at people, and having a sore throat the next morning.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 22:02, 7 replies)
Whilst i was still young, i had a paper round in the mornings before school.

Now the bloke who owned and ran the paper shop used to open up in the morning and get the papers ready to be delivered, putting them in the right order and blah blah.

Anyway, while he was doing that, all the paper lads (no paper girls in the scummy northern village)were allowed to sit around and read the other magazines that were on the shelves of the newsagents.

Now being the brain child he was, he had the porn on the top shelf (obviousley), just above the footie magazines.

The easiest thing in the world was hovering round the footie mags for a sec, then grabbing an art pamphlet on the sly.

News got out of our easy access to porn, and it didnt take long before we started taking orders from school.

Well, your average jazz mag back then was what, 2, 3 quid maybe? Well we could sell porn marked up to about a fiver a pop.

Small fry you might be saying. But we could easily flog 2 a day, as well as the orders on any other mag they stocked, which would add up to maybe £10-£15 PER DAY.

Now we worked 7 days a week, and earned (legitimate wages i mean) a whole £8 per week so you can see how flushed we thought we were.

The whole lot was spent on fags, booze and resin. Every penny.

Well we couldnt save it, as the parents wouldve noticed i recks. And we couldnt spend it in a proper shop (as proper shops dont sell booze fags and drugs to 13 year olds).

The whole racket ended when one paper lad, new kid, bit of a wanker, (ended up on smack btw), went and stole the sunday football supplement that came with the daily mirror or whatever.

Absolute twat. 10p's worth of newspaper pullout ruined the entire scam as from then on we werent able to even breath near anything other then the papers we were due to deliver.

Hey ho. All was not lost. I soon got a different round for a different newsagents at the other end of the village, where the alcholic owner guy didnt notice us walking out with pockets crammed full of chocolates and fags.

Didnt make any profit at the end of it all, but it brightened our days no end.

I turned out alright in the long run. STill drink and smoke loads of weed though.

The rest of the lads all turned out to be pricks probably. I wouldnt know, i moved out of the village as soon as i could.

Yay, posting cherry popped.

No appologies for length though, as i cant think of any knob gags at the mo.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 20:02, 5 replies)
Write a Cult TV Classic... again.
Amongst all the emotional trauma I've sustained lately I've been thinking of ways to sort things out and such.... Turn back the clock as it were... right things that once went wrong...

So I did what any heartbroken geek would, I started writing a script for a new series of Quantum Leap... Oh frig yes!

It's perfect, old Sammy Beckett is still trapped in his neverending cycle of sorting out other peoples shit and giving a right good kicking to the agents of the devil. It could kick off in the modern day, seeing as it all takes place in his lifetime, bar a couple of episodes in his grandpappy's days, he coulda just been going on and on throughout the eighties, nineties and noughties.

Hopefully some execs would enjoy the idea and Scott Bakula would be interested after they canned Enterprise(which I loved tbh!) and Dean Stockwell seems like a healthy bloke being a martial artist so even at 72 he might put on a good show.

It MUST be done.

Apologies for length, I'm stuck in a quantum leap myself. Oh boy!
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 19:51, 7 replies)
Gordon Bennett!
There have been a few attempts in my time on this planet at making money. Usually they start ok but then my personal unlucky entropy kicks in or I lose interest due to my unceasing laziness and lack of wherewithal.

Also I have noticed that there are lot of samey stories around including mine. I guess the nineties potential money makers all thought the same.

In chronological order:

- When I was just in secondary school I used to be friendly with the local newsagents. He used to sell me two or three month old computer magazines with the coverdisks for half price. I then sold these mags and disks to the boys at school for a decent mark up. I also used to buy jazz mags from him at full price, separated the pages, and then sold the pages individually for 50p each. I made quite a lot on those magazines which I then ploughed into my next venture.
- My next venture was the purchase of a 9600 baud modem, a 10Mb hard drive, and a pile of blank disks for my Amiga. I then used this to go to Swedish bulletin boards to download pron, games, and music demos. My dad hit the roof when he got the months telephone bill. He called me into the study and screamed at me for about 5 minutes. Then I handed him £65 quid which was just over what the international call charges were. He looked a bit suspicious but he was ok about it. I made tonnes of cash not only from my school but from other local schools as well.
- When amigas became a little passé and not quite as profitable, I pestered my parents to buy me a pc (486 SX25!) for ‘homework purposes’. I bought myself a new 28.8 modem and the cheapest 1X cd burner I could find and I basically repeated the system.
- GCSE territory. I got people to pay me £30 to do their geography projects for them.
- In university, as the only person who wasn’t an egregious IT nerd in my halls with a computer, I used to rent out my pc for emailing and essay writing. For the complete dunces I used to type out their essays for them for cash. I also started to build computers for people on spec and installing pirated software. For this sales opportunity I used to go straight to peoples parents when they came to visit or to drop their stuff off at the start of term.
- Then ebay came along and I used to sell loads of old tat. I also used to get special colour charity bracelets that weren’t sold in the UK, only in the States thus commanding high prices here in Blighty. I ordered tonnes to be delivered to my friends in the states and they used to send them to me so I could sell them on fleabay. That was super profitable.

When I got a proper job I didn’t really have time for hijinks like as described. However as I am now the CFO of a FTSE subsidiary multi million pound company I have slush funds all over the place! Yay! Unfortunately I can’t use them for myself or I go to jail. Boo!
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 19:48, 1 reply)
There's no such thing.
A wise old man once told me there was no way to get rich quick, and that money could only be made by good honest toil.

This was from behind the stocking he was wearing over his head as he pointed a sawn off shotgun at me in the bank in which I worked.

I now work as a consultant in the city of London, a position which entails turning up at clients site in an expensive pinstipe suit around mid morning, sitting in front of a laptop answering emails for 5 hours a day, and charging a thousand pounds a day for delivering 'solutions' to the client, based loosely around ethereal project briefs and high level designs cobbled together in visio in between lavishly expensed lunches.

I neither know nor care when or indeed if the project on which I am working will ever be finished, because, as I am constantly telling my client, it is a very fluid industry in which we work and our overall goalposts shift continually. I then present them with a bill containing more digits than a highly-desirable Greater London phone number, and leave for home with an immense feeling of having made a difference.

Next week I take delivery of a brand new Aston Martin. But, ask the doubters, am I 'Truly' happy?

(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 19:11, 6 replies)
I wrote an album.
As a shitty little second year pupil, nothing gave me more pleasure than annoying and offending people (not much has changed). So I picked up my brother's guitar, wrote some poorly rhymed lyrics about teachers and pupils in our school.

These were the worst songs you've ever heard. There was my bland East Anglican accent on top of a few poorly strummed and out of time power chords. Most of them were just joke songs with random words, in a weak immitation of the Monty Python's humor - as everyone tries to do when they're 13.

After letting a few mates listen to these when they came over, they suggested that I should sell them.

Being a greedy bastard, I eagerly burnt the 21 songs onto a CD and sold them each for £3 each to mates and eventually people who I didn't know who'd heard the album.

I made £40 profit, and as an early teenager, this is big bucks.
But there was a dark side.

The albums grew in popularity in two groups: the stoner community who hailed me for making such "trippy" songs and anyone who hated those mentioned in my compostions. There were only 12 - 15 copies, but they were being passed around. For two weeks, they gained a cult following. I was in no control of who heard them. My mates would rush up to me, exuberantly announcing theyd played it to their entire class, including teacher. I had no idea of who hadn't heard it.

The brief fame was not at all enjoyable. I had to shy away from most people and teachers the songs were, on the off chance that they'd heard it. Every time a teacher would come up to me, I'd pray that they wouldn't mention it.

Most did.

But I was surprised. The staff liked it. In fact, they thought it was great (a couple even bough the copy of the album). This came as a shock to me, the realisation that pupils are not alone in despising certain teachers. In most cases, those who alienate their pupils, do the same to their colleagues. And luckily the school pupils I'd also mocked saw the funny side.

But that wasn't it. Another mate passed the CD to the local radio station and some others peer pressured me on to the stage to perform the more offensive songs in front of the entire town... including countless teachers, possibly including those ridiculed in my lyrics. But still, I was safe after a few more weeks of worrying about the consequences.

I was safe. I'd got away with it, and was £40 up. My get rich quick scheme had worked, at the expense a month or so full of nervousness and anxiety.

Length? Despite the 21 tracks, it was only 23 mins long.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 18:27, Reply)
fetish website
Find a non-pr0n fetish, i.e. ladies' ankles, toe tickling etc.
take / find loads of non-pr0n pictures of said fetish
market them as pr0n
some sick fucker will gravitate towards it.
Give them 6 months free then charge.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 17:53, 2 replies)
Exploiting Enthusiasts
Take a train, place a camcorder in the front windscreen.

Then drive said train to some destination while filming the route.

Burn to DVD, package in a nice cover and then sell on Ebay to trainspotters.

£10.99 each....

Currently over 300 sold.

Cost to make? @50p each.

(That'll teach them to take my photo without asking!)
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 17:43, 5 replies)
Another pearoast
Growing up in Wiltshire in the 90's wasn't all that great. Clubbing was restricted to the larger cities and generally there was fuck all to do. Except in the summer when every year without fail, we went to Glastonbury.

Going on a regular basis meant we knew our way around the local area, particularly the nearby fields. As the festival got increasingly popular it became more and more difficult to source tickets and one year (1999) we didn't get them.


About three hours into day one of the festival I get a call from my mate Rich who tells me to get my arse down to Glastonbury because he has got himself a load of tickets. Slightly wary of how he got them or if they were fakes I turned up, got in and had a great day; Rich remaining tight lipped as to how he managed to get the tickets.

Fast forward to Sunday morning and I'm queuing for the toilet when I start to overhear a conversation in front of me. A couple were talking about a scam that someone was running where tickets had been stolen. Much discussion later and I find out exactly how Rich and accomplice got the tickets.

What they had done was to open the gate of a nearby field and print and put up a large sign stating 'Glastonbury Festival Parking'. Armed with more official looking arrow signs, tape, ropes and tables, together with a convincing marshal's outfit, they had set themselves up a fake entrance to the festival and after people had parked, they were exchanging people's tickets for worthless 'entry passes' and sending them off through another gate to get thoroughly lost in the Somerset countryside.

Rich denied all but he knew that countryside better than anyone I know and given that he is now serving a prison sentence for fraud I am more certain than ever it was him. Needless to say I did feel more than a little guilty at being in on a stolen ticket but it was a great festival.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 17:25, 2 replies)
Contrary to popular opinion, I always enjoyed Home Economics at school. My mum didn't trust me with cooking at home (due to a mild pyrophilia) and so any chance to get busy with the pots and pans was taken with relish.

One week, we were assigned with the task with making our own cakes. The school would provide the boring stuff like flour, eggs, milk, water, etc, but we would have to sort our our own icing, jam, skunk or whatever else we wanted to liven up the sponge with.

Now, you have to get into the mindset of the modern (well, 1990's) teenager. As if you're going to remember instructions. I recall mumbling something to my mum about 'cake stuff' and left it for a week.

Come the morning of the cake bake, and yes, I had bugger all to show for decorations. Luckily, my dear mum had purchased icing, jam and SILVER BALLS; hard, sugary goodness coated in a colour that could only be tenuously described as 'silver'. I was prepared.

Now, William Burroughs described Heroin as the ultimate commodity, as the consumer is sold to the product, rather than the other way round. If only he was present in Room HE1 that day.

It turned out that barely anyone else had brought anything, and my little hoard of confection was the only means of enlivening their shitty sponge.

Knowing that some 'Jesus and the feeding of the five thousand' situation wouldn't commence - despite my protestations, I am not the Son Of God - I decided to charge:

10p per silver ball.
20p for a level tablespoon of icing sugar.
50p for a level tablespoon of jam.

I made a killing. In fact as demand outstripped supply I was soon doubling prices in a feeble (yet ultimately successful, as I happened to come out with some lovely butterfly buns) attempt to maintain my own decoration supply.

And lo, at the age of just 13, I appeared to have mastered the tenets of classical economics and exploited the powerless working classes in a way that would make Milton Friedman celebrate and Charlie Marx chew furiously on his beard, all the while having plenty of sugary goodness to return to my pro-active mother.

(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 16:17, 2 replies)
Get Rich Quick?
remember when you were 5 and you tried to draw your own money and wondered how easy it would be to be rich?

funnily enough you're not the only bright spark who had that idea only these charmers didn't get the 'silly' idea conditioned out of them

the easiest way to become filthy rich was decided decades ago , in one big happy party, and you weren’t invited

become rich by printing your own money - nothing but paper notes, then just assign a value to it and take it off the gold standard (not redeemable by gold or silver ) - then control the supply so you can cause a depression by then flooding the market with this paper currency and charging interest on it which is repayable in real collateral such as labour and property thus making yourself obscenely wealthy in real terms (a.k.a. THE MANDRAKE MECHANISM )

think it can't be done? this is how fiat currency and central banks operate and the scam has been ticking along merrily for well over 60 years (and the money system scam since Sumer and the Hamites)

but how do you con a whole generation into the scam? and how do you get people to go along with this system?

let's skip back a few thousand years to ancient Sumer, The Euphrates River and Ancient Egypt and "the Nile deluge"

the (river) bank controls the current (water)
the (financial) bank controls the currency (money)

the interchangability of the terms is not coincidence

it’s derived from the practice of banking the rivers to create population movement and coerce people into living in the city states - forcing them to give up their humane way of living of farming and barter - (how we should be living) - to an imposed system of money and governance through an elitist class structure of controlled knowledge

in early Egypt the Nile was originally a Deluge that came down from the mountains and flowed North - creating massive swamps and tributaries - the Hamites came in and created one river (BANKS) - the people who used to have water access for their crops had to move into the created cities (and ‘civilisation’ ) and became slaves for the 'understanding class' who had access to ‘the sciences’ or ‘The mystery religions’ as they were known back then. (this survives today via Freemasonry - ask your local policeman, judge, solictor, university lecturer etc or anyone with a uniform (UNI_FORM - to shape as one - within))

once you have your population in your city state, that’s when the fun really starts in the form of taxes (CURRENCY) and labour. Which are then extracted by the ruling elite (the priesthoods and leisure classes) - with taxes came the creation of standing armies and the suppression of the governed populations - it’s an old formulae used by all elites throughout history for millennia (this is why the bee hive (BE_HAVE) is such an ancient symbol in freemasonry - and especially now as we are led into “the New Age” - with the new eco religion of ‘Gaia worship’ Gorbachev wrote of recently - and the whole Club of Rome climate change con we see emerging)

to have this elite class living in luxury supported by a labouring underclass you need money(to pay the standing armies) and there needs to be a system in place to make it all happen - and a beaurocratic structure to maintain it - scoot forward a few thousand years and we take this system to its ‘natural’ conclusion with the ultimate scam

fractal reserve banking and fiat currency
(incidently to get people to adhere to this fictional system, fictional corporations are out of ‘us’ - i.e. your ‘person’ via the birth registration process - more in my profile for info for natural person v corporate person links iand Video by Robert Arthur Menard on the Law that will change your life in bite size chunks )

money is created from deposits and the capital of the bank against which they are permitted by the Bank Of England to lend a certain amount based upon the (im)probability of all deposits being called back at the same time

they are permitted to create the money in relation to how much actual money they hold - they are still creating it from nothing - as a rough example, say someone deposits £1000 in the bank of actual money from his labour in the real world - from that deposit they loan out £9000 created money based on having that real money deposited in - and charge interest on it

ah but they say - interest is charged by banks as compensation for loss of liquidity , i.e giving the money to you instead of doing something else with it

however it is brought into existence by the loan application procedure

and the amount they are allowed to create is much higher than the amount of real money they hold -- that money could not be created from nothing without your signature

your signature manifests the money

the central banks scam is ingenious because of its simplicity

( to see how the Vatican and Jesuits (JP Morgan/ Rothchilds listed in Encyclopedia Judaeica as treasurers of the Vatican) worked for so long to implement a central bank in the US see The secret terrorists by BiIll Hughes
www.geocities.com/thesecretterrorists/book/ch1.html www.mininova.org/tor/302178 and Vatican Assasins by Eric Phelps - both available free online )

the reason the scam works so well is because he central banks control the currency of an entire nation, i.e. the control of interest rates and money supply (inflation) -

it loans to the government at interest and then regulates value of this currency through supply

this entire mechanism only produces one thing - DEBT

every note is produced with interest (debt) attached - - the effect is the central bank has to perpetually increase the money supply to cover the outstanding debt created - which in turn creates more debt - what we have is a very sophisticated form of slavery - as it is impossible for people and government to come out of this self perpetuating cycle of debt

in the 20s they refined this scam by increasing the money supply and creating high risk loans (hence the period known as the Roaring 20s) - they then called in the loans en masse causing massive sell offs and bank runs enabling the central bank to buy up whole corporations on the cheap - -the bank then contracted the money supply creating -the great depression of the 1930s -

sound familiar? the exact same process is in play today by the same central banks (abundant credit followed by reduced money supply and loans resulting in mass home loss and recession)

the cost of living and petrol is so high because e the currency is devaluing

this can be demonstrated easily if we look at a time when the money was on the gold standard in the US

in 1947 one gallon of petrol was 23 cents - or ‘a quarter’
a quarter was 1 quater of an ounce of silver (unilke thoseissued after 1967)

current rate of silver is 1 ounce = 18 dollars (apporx) in todays market
so the 1947 quarter is 4 dollars

question: ghow much is 1 gallon of petrol in $ ? -

answer: $4

or to put it another way a 1947 silver quarter

petrol isn’t going up the dollar is devaluing
(as predicted in books by the likes of CFR historian Carroll Quigley(Tragedy and Hope) , Jacques Attali (Millenium) decades ago - all part of the plat to move them into the Amero and NOrth American Union in 2010 - again, see profile for more info - and also the rise of China and recession of the US written about 15 years ago)


“if the people allow central banks to control the money supply the people will wake up homeless deprived of their property” -Thomas Jefferson

“a world banking system was being set up, a superstate controlled by international bankers acting togather to enslave th world” en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_T._McFadden Louis Mc Fadden (later poisoned)

“the world is governed by very different personages from what is imagined by those who are not behind the scenes” Benjamin Disraeli

interview and numerous clips on how the corruption of the modern Banking system and what Mussolini termed 'corporatism' (the merging of corporations and government) -

links for G. Edward Griffin book 'The Creature from Jekyll Island'



the end goal of the Banking system is the cashless society on personal chips - the biggest threat to our personal freedom

futher points of research i f anyone gives a toss as well as numerous links and info sources are in my profile:

JP Morgan - fed reaserve (it was their estate the 1913 act was signed on - Jekyll Island) - links to the Vatican treasury - JP Morgan is also Blairs new gig after he converted to ctaholism -

Alperin (check spelling) v Vatican Bank court case in San Fransisco www.arcticbeacon.com/articles/12-May-2007.html - gaining compensation for the Serbian and Jewish genocide survivors - a genocide showing nazis and Fransican priests inviolvment backed by Vatican - during court case obstruced from revealing true extent of Vatican wealth - said to run into the trillions in gold and real estate - NOT fiat currency

on a final note for those who can’t be arsed putting the research in and seeing what is going on around them consider this

the Jews arrived at the train station with as many of their possessions as they could carry expecting to find traveling compartments

instead they found cattle cars

in disbelief, having focused only on themseves and not paying attention to what was happening around them - they had no other plan

We are standing at a similar place and the average westerner is so distracted with the trivia that we don't see or don't want to see what is going on around us even as the boxcars are pulling up to our stations

as mammals we are trained only to sense danger when the pack around us alerts us to it - that is why we are coaxed into apathy by a constant stream of trivia and entertainment as we are led like docile sheep into the next gate

apologies for the speed typing and scatological meandering text but hopefully you get the picture from the links

the formulae is simple, get the population dependant upon the system and the central banks through a perpetual cylcle of increasing debt and then steer the system in the direction you have planned

(length? - I married a black woman, nuff said)
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 15:53, 31 replies)
As a youth, I was quite the money maker. I'd spend my weekends washing people's cars, clearing up leaves and generally doing odd jobs for cash. Then I hit upon my golden goose.

She was a dementia sufferer called Dorothy - about 90 years old and with a huge house. My first job for her was weeding her huge garden for four hours, but by the time I'd finished the job she'd forgotten who I was and thought I might be her grandson. I got 20p and a 14-year-old digestive for that work - but it gave me an idea.

The next weekend, I turned up and knocked on the door telling her that I'd just re-tiled her roof and she owed me two grand. She paid me in cash from a stash under her bed and I gave her a 'receipt' (an old Quavers crisp packet, which I took back later while she was watching Countdown.)

I spent some of the the money on pornographic material and alcohol, and thereafter spent most Saturdays in her shed whacking away - before telling her I'd replaced the guttering/painted the windows/installed a solarium etc. in return for an inflated cash payment.

After some time, I was becoming quite wealthy, but she appeared to have no relatives and I was under no suspicion. Once, she came into the shed and found me balls-deep in a honeydew melon, but I told her I was inflating her football and she staggered away to get me £50 for the privilege. Happy days!

I made £23,000 over the space of that year while doing nothing at all. Only once did she ever question my 'work' - when I charged her £500 for installing a greenhouse that didn't exist. I got out of that one by telling her the glass was cleaned so perfectly that it was effectively invisible. After that, she just paid up.

She died in 1988, just before I did my GCSEs. I don't know if she left a will, but the house stands empty still and I smile fondly whenever I look at that shed.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 15:01, 6 replies)
Listen To This One
You open a company called the Arse Tickler's Faggots Fan Club. You take out an advert in the back page of some gay mag, advertising the latest in arse-intruding dildos, you sell it with, I dunno, "does what no other dildo can do until now", "the latest and greatest in sexual technology", "guaranteed results or your money back", all that bollocks.

Now these dils cost twenty-five quid a pop - as a snip for the amount of pleasure they're gonna give the recipients. But they send their cheques to the other company name, nothing offensive, er, Bobbie's Bits or something, for twenty-five quid. You take that twenty-five quid, you stick it in the bank until it clears.

Now this is the smart bit - you send back the cheque for twenty-five pound from the other company name, "Arse Tickler's Faggots Fan Club", saying we're sorry, we couldn't get the supplies from America because they ran out of stock.

Now you see how many people cash that cheque - not a single soul, because who wants their bank manager to know they tickle arse when they're not paying cheques?
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:58, 10 replies)
Big Brother
DG just posted his visceral and entirely justified attack on Big Bro. and the cuntfucks who inhabit it.

But you want to know the scary thing? Each and every one of them could guarantee a decent little payout on top of the cash they manage to wring out of their 15 minutes of fame. Once again (see my other post) they could do this through the wonder of matched betting.

So, top price is £100k - but only one person will get this. How can I bag myself a goodly share of this? Let's take a hypthetical example...

It's a new series of big brother - and you're a potential housemate called "Muppet". Say hello Muppet.

You've been contacted by the producers, told to pack a bag and get ready to be collected, so you swing into action. You get your partner/parents/friends to start gathering money together - you'll need about £50,000 available to pull this off.

You're picked to go into the house, and it's now week one. From the first moment, you become the perfect friendly housemate. you love everybody, while favouring no-one. You don't cause trouble, you do more than your share while being entertining to the viewers, and basically put yourself in prime position to win.

As a result, the odds of you to win drop like a stone - you're seen as a dead cert (evens or 1/1). At this prearranged point, your friends/family/gambling syndicate pile in and place a lay bet on you at a betting exchange - they are betting on you not to win at roughly the same odds. This needs to be done carefully so as not to upset the odds.

Once they've placed all the money, they manage to get a signal to Muppet. Perhaps a bagpiper playing at midday, or a plane flying overhead trailing a "Sun" promotional banner. Nothing too out of the ordinary for big brother.

Muppet gets the signal, and all of a sudden his behaviour changes. He becomes aggressive and argumentative. He gets greedy with food and pisses in the kitchen bin. Nothing sufficient to get him thrown out, but enought to persuade the rest of the house to evict him. If this doesn't work the first time, then for the next eviction week. Do nothing. Literally nothing. Keep pissing off the housemates, but also annoy the viewers by being boring. they'll soon have you out of there.

So - you've been evicted. You have your chat with a bemused Davina, refuse all publicity and go home. As you have not won, the money that your friends/family placed as a lay bet is refunded, and your winnings from this bet are roughly the same - approximately £50,000.

If you had won, they would have had to pay out the £50,000, but you would have received the big £100,000 prize - still making a total of £50,000 profit - plus all the usual publicity nonsense.

Not bad for 2 or 3 weeks work (and of course public humiliation)
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:54, 4 replies)
Easy money?
There is a simple formula, which goes thus:

1) Convince yourself that it's your right to be famous, by doing absolutely fuck all to deserve it.

2) Once you have achieved this, wander around vacantly for a bit until you stumble upon auditions for a well known, but frankly tired, reality TV show.

3) Convince the programme makers you are just what they are looking for in the next series by inventing a serious personality disorder that marks you out as being 'a bit wacky', and therefore likely to entertain.

4) Once you've got yourself into the house, either (a) get your knob / tits out as often as possible, or, (b) pick fights with your housemates at every opportunity, thus ensuring maximum exposure in the tabloids and 'lifestyle' magazines. For added effect, you could try innocently calling one of them a nigger, although these days that's likely to get you kicked out and damage your chances of making any serious money on the outside. Plus it's not big or clever, kids!

5) For added effect, find a housemate you quite fancy, and throw yourself into a full on romance with them. If you're particulary brave, indulge in repeated acts of shagging under the covers in front of the cameras (again, see 4 above).

6) Got to week 6? Congratulations, you're half way there! Try amusing the nation with your complete cluelessness as to current affairs, how many weeks are in a year, the location of Wales, and general cuntfuckery, but remember to say that you like teh kittums - this should guarantee you the b3ta vote!

7) Repeat steps 4 and 5 as necessary, especially if the object of your desire is evicted - mope for a couple of days, then attach yourself to the next available housemate (this is optional).

8) In the event that you do get evicted before the final, sell your story for untold thousands to the first available tabloid and 'celebrity' magazine. The Daily Star is a good bet, as is OK! magazine. Fuck it, you've got your pick really. Maintain your exposure by going on 'celebrity' editions of the Weakest Link, reinforcing to the British public what a clueless fuckwit you are, but never mind, it's quite endearing isn't it? If you're of the lady persuasion, the lads mags will be falling over themselves to offer you serious wads of cash for getting your norks out (if you're shy, they'll probably let you keep your hands over your nipples. But they'll keep coming back with bigger offers until you go all the way. This could be a good strategy - keep your public on tenterhooks for a bit, then whip 'em out as the pound signs flash in your eyes like a demented fruit machine). This only works if you're not a complete boiler, though.

9) If you actually win, collect the £100,000 and also see step 8 above.

10) Should you have managed to keep your romance intact, get engaged and then married in record time, thus ensuring a further cash cow as the glossies scramble over each other to offer you both a multi-thousand pound 'exclusive' deal (which, lets face it, will be picked up by everyone else afterwards anyway - another result).

11) Following step 10, you could always try divorce some 9 months later, thus ensuring more 'exclusive' deals where you can give your account of the marriage and how she never swallowed / he always tried to get you to swallow (delete as appropriate).

12) An added option is to find yourself a satellite TV station that's watched by about 12 people, and get a presenting job.

13) Congratulations! You have achieved fleeting fame and notoriety, before plunging into general obscurity again, safe in the knowledge that you have managed to fleece several thousands of pounds from the gullible media industry (helped by the general public).

14) Finally, if you are a complete mong, you may be lucky enough to snare yourself a protracted but inexplicable stay in the limelight - maybe try going on the 'celebrity' version of the show, and racially abusing a housemate or demonstrating homophobic tendencies. Then cry about it afterwards on breakfast TV, insisting it was all a mistake. To back this up, you could point out that some of your best mates are black. Or gay. Then write your autobiography, even though you're only 22. I say write - why waste time on that shit? Christ, you can't even spell. Get some other fucker to do it for you, and reap the rewards for 6 months, before finding yourself in the bargain bin at Asda.

15) Sorted!
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:11, 12 replies)
this qotw
makes me think of mel and sue of channel four lunchtime fame.

If I wasn't even halfway as tired and stressed as usual would try and rustle up a Giedroyc pun quickly.

death threats and abuse to the usual address please.
(, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:03, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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