Fun historical fact, there used to be more gay and lesbian content in early silent films until religious groups protested resulting in “decency standards.”
[ID: a tweet by @/FatNutritionist that says, “If the point of having a society *isn’t* to care for each other, to ease suffering and realize each life’s potential, literally what is the point? To hoard wealth? To build empires on other people’s throats? Life is brief, nothing lasts. Wealth and empires are pointless violence.” /end ID]
gather round, folks, that i may pass down the tale of Fuck-It Jonn, because that dude is just the GREATEST FUCKING CONMAN in the WORLD, and he WASN’T EVEN TRYING. he absolutely fucking STUMBLED ON ACCIDENT into THE SCAM THAT WOULD DEFINE HIS ENTIRE LIFE. the lie that transformed his ENTIRE EXISTENCE out of SHEER RANDOM BULLSHIT.
and his sole motivation was to EAT FINGER FOOD.
consider:
in the Wayback Days™ before i was born, the people who would later become my parents had this friend named… yeah, let’s say jonn. i’d rather not say his real name. bitches not snitches, and all that.
so. france in the late 80s. jonn and my parents had just finished school and all found jobs in computer engineering. (not that they STUDIED computer engineering, mind you. no, they were all studying how to become fish farmers or some shit. but those were simpler times, when knowing how to turn the fucking screen on got you a comfortable salary at the ripe old age of 24 years old.)
except that jonn, who was a chill hippie kind of dude, was bored to death by his desk job. so bored that he decided to just up and quit. “fuck it”, was basically jonn’s motto. fuck it, he’d find something better! fuck it, and things would work out! EXCEPT (as you may have guessed) THEY DIDN’T. for months and months he didn’t find another job. and so he ended up depressed, struggling, and eating dinner at my future-parents’ tiny apartment, three times a week, so he wouldn’t literally starve.
time went by. jonn was still unemployed. so before his resources hit rock bottom, jonn did the only logical, reasonable thing. what’s that, you ask? begged for his old job back? went back to school? crawled home to his parents? ha ha! obviously you do not share jonn’s ADVENTUROUS AND ENTREPRENEURIAL SPIRIT. and also you lack his BIZARRE LOGIC AND PLAIN WEIRD APPROACH TO LIFE.
what jonn did was: say “fuck it” (again) and leave for thailand.
because you see, thailand was cheap by french standards. so cheap that even a penniless dude on unemployment could live there for weeks on end, spending much less than he would have in france, as long as he didn’t mind roughing it. and jonn didn’t mind! “fuck it”, he’d said. and by god, he would stand by his words!
so jonn gamely scrounged up the money for the plane ticket and then… yeah. basically bummed it out in thailand. for two months. seeing the sights. sleeping on the street. making new friends.
and one of these news friends turned out to be very adept at FORGING PAPERS.
huh, jonn said to himself (probably high at the time) this sounds not at all shifty and more like a ONCE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY; what could POSSIBLY GO WRONG. my new thai best friend is even offering me a FAMILY DISCOUNT. for fake papers. fuck it! let’s have some!
as far as i can tell, jonn… didn’t even need fake papers?? like, he was literally just trying not to pass up on an opportunity here. so he smoked some more weed (i can only assume) and got A BRILLIANT IDEA. fake ID card? LAME. fake driver’s licence? HACKNEYED. fake medical degree? PEDESTRIAN. no! jonn got himself a fake press card.
but why??
well, OBVIOUSLY, just so he could get into cultural events for free – conferences, art premieres, etc – and eat all the finger food. that was his grand plan. stroll into press-only events, wave his poorly-made card around, and gorge himself on canapés. no more going hungry! ever! jonn would live off tiny slices of toasted foie gras and flutes of cheap champagne for the rest of his life!
so now jonn, Very Obviously Fake Journalist™, is back in france and he’s DOING THE THING. and guess what? this was before google. before facebook. before linkedin. impersonating a journalist was very easy. if people asked where you worked you just said you were freelance, then steered the conversation to current politics and stealthily devoured the entire buffet while everybody was busy debating.
and so. this is what jonn is doing. his monumentally stupid plan is actually working. this is how he eats. with thai-made fake papers and sheer fucking confidence. and of course people start noticing him eventually! jonn is always fucking there! at all and any events in paris! because, again, THIS IS HOW HE EATS! but it’s always the same people running around in these circles, anyway. so nobody’s surprised to see the same dudes popping up over and over again. jonn blends in! and jonn is very good at making friends. and changing the subject. and eating canapés.
and then ONE DAY
one of jonn’s newfangled journalist friends (a REAL journalist, mind you, who has NO IDEA that jonn isn’t What He Seems) basically goes: “dude i’m so swamped rn. everyone wants everything all at once. fuck. shit. are you swamped too?”
“oh, for sure,” jonn says through a mouthful of his twenty-ninth serving of canapés that night. “not a second to myself”
“god. fuck. tell me about it. shit. i’m just so damn swamped.” Real Journalist shakes his head. “if i could only find someone to cover for me on this one article.”
now, i know i said before that jonn was smoking weed. but i must confess now i said it for humorous effect. i have no idea if jonn’s ever been within five hundred yards of a blunt his whole life. but what you must understand is that jonn is Chill™ on like. a soul-deep level. his whole mind is one long exhale of smoke followed by the words “fuck it”. this is a man who left his job for no reason, lived in thailand on a tourist’s visa for two months, got fake papers there for the lol of it all, and is now living off press-only events in paris. jonn was BORN HIGH.
SO. when RJ asks him: “dude. jonn. you said you were working freelance. i know you’re busy but don’t you think you could maybe cover for me? just this once?”
jonn NATURALLY answers: “fuck it. sure”
then goes to an unemployment center and applies for one of their free one-week classes. on journalism. jonn spends ALL OF ONE WEEK learning How To Write An Article Like A Real Journalist With A Real Press Card. then writes the article. basically bullshitting his way through that thing. half-assing the life out of it. faking his heart out. because why not? FUCK IT.
i have NO IDEA if he actually did a good job or not. but it was in fact good enough for RJ who really must have been truly swamped, and was so truly grateful that he told all of their mutual journalists friends. who were ALL SWAMPED. i’m given to understand it’s the natural state of the journalist in the wild.
and so jonn is now REGULARLY COVERING FOR ALL SORTS OF JOURNALISTS.
not making much money i assume. but still, not bad for a dude who studied journalism for five whole days.
and well, it’s kinda fun! better than moping around at home waiting for the next free canapé press-only premiere. so jonn keeps at it. and eventually it occurs to him that hey! he spent two months in thailand. why not make an article out of that? so he writes himself a lil paper, retelling his Bumtastic Adventures in the Land of Thai People, Cheap Living and Forged Papers (That Last One Having Nothing to Do With Him Personally of Course). and he’s kinda proud of it. so much that he gives it to his journalist friends. can they maybe pass it around? see if anybody would be interested in publishing it? for a modest fee and some more canapés?
and yeah. someone was in fact interested in publishing it. and that someone was:
THE
NATIONAL
GEOGRAPHIC
(french edition.)
so jonn got a REAL press card. got a FULL-TIME JOB at the national geographic. and spent the REST OF HIS WORK LIFE traveling abroad for six months, then going back to paris the rest of the year to write about his wacky journeys. he’s retired now, having published several books full of his articles and photographs. he’s bought a b&b in the french countryside with all his money. and continues to say “fuck it” to any problem that comes his way like the absolute fucking legend he is.
as far as i know, none of his journalist buddies nor his boss ever found out about any of this.
Ya boi just took some asshole for a ride. Some schmuck called me from a (spoofed) DC number with some cockamamie story about how he’s with the Federal Government and they’ve randomly selected me to receive a $7000 grant, oh and I’ll have to go pick it up at any of several chain grocery stores. Keeps using these “check-in” phrases that are meant to prompt you to say yes.
But see, joke’s on him: I’ve heard of this scam, and I don’t talk like most people. When I answer the phone and someone asks for me by name, I say “Speaking,” not “Yes.” So every single time this assclown tried to get me to say “Yes” I’d say something like “Understood” or “Go on.”
You see, the scam is, they trick you into saying “Yes,” and bonus if they can get you to repeat numbers (esp. 0-9) and/or “I agree.” What these low-lives do is record your voice and then use the sound bytes to make fraudulent charges in your name.
So fuck this guy right off the bat.
The more I dicked him around, the more frequently he started trying to goad me into saying the y-word. The funniest part came when he was going to “give me a confirmation number.”
Him: The confirmation is seven, one, three…
And he just STOPS. The “three” was pitched up to indicate there’d be more. I wait. He waits. I say, “Go on.”
And this bitch goes, “Yes, the confirmation number is seven, one, three…”
And he STOPS AGAIN. I wait. He waits. I say, “Go on,” again.
And he STARTS! OVER! AGAIN! He did this TWO MORE TIMES before giving me the “full confirmation number” and a “number to call,” which together JUST HAPPEN to include all ten digits, 0 through 9.
This entire time I haven’t said a single word that could be construed as agreement. So he asks me to repeat the numbers back to him. I decide I’ve had enough at that point. I tell him to get a better job, hang up, and block the number.
Another “DC” number immediately calls me. I reject & block it.
And then I filed a report with the Federal Trade Commission. :3
BE WARY. Get yourself on the National Do Not Call Registry. If a number you don’t recognize calls you, DON’T REPLY “YES” OR ANY OTHER GENERIC AFFIRMATIVE TO ANYTHING THEY SAY OR ASK.
The original scam is a robocall that starts off with “Can you hear me?” The most correct response is to hang up and report it to the FTC. The second best is “I can hear you,” if you’re not sure or if you forget. But get into the habit of using responses other than “Yes” on the phone. These fuckers are everywhere.
It gets worse, OP. Your voice can be spliced to sound like you agreed to something. You may have given them enough to do that with. Like those Microsoft Windows people that call and want your ‘important numbers off your computer’ I talked to them for far too long and only found out after the fact that they could make fraudulent charges just by splicing some of your words together. They were after something different, but it amounts to the same thing in the end. Also there’s the common ‘press 1′ people as well. It’s best to just hang up. The Attorney General says to get an answering machine and they can’t really do anything about them because they’re constantly spoofing numbers. Neither can the phone company, and they Charge You Money for reporting them!
Oof. Reblogging for additional warnings. I’ve already made my report to the FTC, so I’ll just be keeping a close eye on my finances for a while. (Like I’m not already given my situation.)
I’m trying not to be annoyed by this
but I’m annoyed
I understand that this is tunglr dot hell and people love to make up wild shit but llllllook boys girls and others this literally happened to me, personally, exactly as I described it. Here’s the screenshot of the two “DC” numbers that called me—the one I answered at 12:35, dicked around, and hung up on, and the one that called me immediately after which I rejected.
On reflection I do partway suspect that it might have just been the fake grant scam, but I still gotta say, super fucking fishy that he kept trying so very hard to get me to say yes and repeat numbers.
sky's stuff 