Two years ago I was a dipstick computer operator with no future, barely able to afford my alcohol payments, with 47 ex-wives bleeding me dry for alimony every time I turned around, (put my left foot in, put my left foot out, did the hokey- pokey, that's what it's all about) and life looked grim.
I was the debt collecting agencies most wanted man, with my picture on the back of dollar bills everywhere. I couldn't get credit, I almost had to steal food to afford money!
And then my life changed.
Now I own a $200 car, have more than enough money to afford the expensive meths with the "Not to be taken" in full colour on the label instead of the normal black and white. AND, it's the stuff that makes you blind, not just causes physical decay. I have friends in gutters everywhere, and I'm never short of a clean pair of underpants in preparation for my next car accident.
HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?
By a revolutionary new money making scheme that CAN'T FAIL!
WHY AM I TELLING YOU ABOUT THIS?
Because I'm a nice guy! I don't need any more money than the $650 million I've already got, but I'm going to sell you my idea and get commission for everything you do till you take your own life in a bizarre bowling ball accident in Tulsa, SIMPLY because I'm a nice guy. I don't need the money, that's why I'm here asking for it!
HOW DOES IT WORK?
Well, the idea is simple. You give me money, and I'll send postcards to Craig Shergold. OR, you give me money and I won't send postcards to Craig Shergold.
BUT I LOSE MONEY!
No you DON'T! Because, you can get onto the net in three weeks time and do the same thing, again and again and I won't give a steaming shit because I'll be rolling in money.
HOW IS IT FOOLPROOF?
Because the only fool is YOU! So I get my money, bugger off from the country with my gains, leaving you with the option of going to the net or paying for something less tangible than a Unix standard! So you'll go to the net (under an assumed name, because you don't want to appear like one of the three biggest losers of all time, the other two being that guy that threw his lottery ticket away, and the poor bastard who gets to marry Oprah Winfrey!)
I'VE GOT NO IQ, HOW THE HELL CAN I GET A PEICE OF THIS ACTION?
Send me a cheque, send Craig a postcard (he's collecting stamps and waste paper now to finance his legal battle with the Guiness Book of Records to get himself inserted as the first dead, not-dead, yes-he's-dead, no-he's-not, yes-hes-still-collecting, go-f*ck-yourself! to collect a load of useless stuff now that he doesn't need it.) and I'll get rich.
Oh, I mean, richER! (Just a little slip)
F*ck craig, just send me the money.
MONEY!
MONEY!!!!!!
Then I'll forget about the school yearbook that had me as the person most likely to strangle a mongoose in downtown Soho whilst performing unseemly acts on sailors, or the year after when they voted me person most likely to have a social life so dead it'll be a psychology case-study..