I think most people have some sort of pre-sleep routine that they go through prior to falling asleep at night. Some people read a book until they get tired. Some people eat a pizza. Needlepoint, arc welding, watching a movie, parkour… Whatever works. I enjoy reading the Craigslist personals.
The Craigslist personals are a treasure trove of people of all types reaching out anonymously, hoping to connect with another human being. People are looking for friendship, for sex, for money, and even for that incredibly attractive person they made eye contact with on their way to their morning spin class. Sometimes, you come across a real gem like in the picture to the right.
And then there are the scammers. To the untrained eye, the posts these people put up don’t look much different from any others. But underneath the surface, that toned brunette looking for “something real” is really just after…
Well, who knows? I just like talking to them, probably for the same reason I enjoy talking to telemarketers when I have no intention of actually buying the bullshit they peddle. When you know that someone is trying to get the better of you, purposely wasting their time and leading them to think they’re succeeding is extremely satisfying.
Helpful Pointers for Scamming on Craigslist
So you want to start scamming on Craigslist, but you’re not sure how to start. Here are some pro tips to help you hit the ground running!
- Time zone – If you’re trying to fool people into thinking you’re from Toronto, but you live in Europe, keep the time difference between you and your mark in mind. If I’m constantly getting replies from you at 4:00 am, it gives you away rather quickly. Send your loving letters at a time that falls within normal waking hours in the eastern time zone.
- Spelling and grammar – I’m not trying to be a grammar nazi here. But after a few hundred thousand errors in your sentence structure and spelling, I start to get suspicious that English may not be your first, second, or even eighth language. Also, it makes you look stupid.
- Put a little effort into your ruse! Stick to the information you provided in your original post. If you first claim to be 27, 5’6, and 144 pounds, it looks a little weird if you suddenly switch to being 31, 5’9, and 160 pounds as we get to know each other. As impressive (and lucrative) as it would be, I have never seen anyone grow three inches in 18 hours.
- You’re not a gold digger, right? That’s what your post said. But two emails later, you insist on knowing how much money I make, along with other strangely specific details about my life. You move fast, don’t you?
- Selfies – Those pictures of your cute self that you sent? A simple Google image search reveals that you’ve used the same pictures on multiple online profiles, each with an entirely different name and life story. Are you even trying?
- You’re “new to this online stuff” – If you are really my age, in 2014, you are not “new to this online stuff”. That’s how I would have characterised my dad when he was 60 (he’s quite savvy now), not someone who’s supposedly part of generation Y.
Why would I help a scammer do a better job?
Maybe I just hate to see a job done half-assed. But if it hadn’t already occurred to you, these pointers could just as easily be used to help you avoid scammers, too. And just for making it this far, I’ll give you a great example of a personal ad that you should most certainly not trust:
In case you were wondering, honesty isn’t actually very important to our friend here. That was the third post written in almost the same way, just with different details.
Whether you’re looking for love, for that long-lost single-serving friend you bumped into on the subway, or you’re just in it for the light reading, Craigslist can be a fun place. Just remember these tips, young grasshoppers, and don’t let the “very toned girls” drag you into the games they’re so “tired of playing”.1 person has commented. What do you think?
I identify Dudehead as my best friend all the time. To this day, he’s still confused as to why I call him that. Sometimes I don’t even remember. We met in eighth grade, and we bonded over science, a love of technology, and mischief. That was a fun year. Sixteen years later, there’s nobody who knows me like he does.
But in an age when the letters “BFF” are tossed around more than a caesar salad (ok, internet, I served that one to you on a silver platter), has the term been cheapened?
How do you define or gauge friendship?
Is it even possible to do that?
The other day, I pulled something out of my pocket to give to Dudehead. My arm was bent weirdly, and it looked like I was going to shake his hand. He gave me a funny look that said, “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” It was an awkward moment. Probably the first awkward moment between us in over a decade.
Dudehead and I are best friends, so we don’t shake hands. I don’t even remember ever shaking his hand. A handshake is too formal. A handshake is for a single-serving friend, or when you’re greeting someone you don’t know very well. We were past handshakes years ago.
With my other close friends, it’s sometimes a bro-hug (among the males) or a proper hug (with the females). Sometimes it’s a fist bump.
There’s almost always a greeting to start things off. “Hey man/dude.” “How’s it going?” “Sup, jackass?”
But with my best friend? We’re past handshakes. We’re past fist bumps. We’re even past bro-hugs. Hell, we don’t even say hi to each other.
When I meet up with the Dudehead somewhere, he’s walking east, I’m walking west, we meet in the middle, and we just start a conversation. We often just don’t shut up. Sometimes we even have a few different conversations at once.
When you walk into a room full of close friends that you’ve known for years, you might have a different combination of greetings for each of them. After all, your greeting with a close friend is three parts shared experience, one part past conversation, and two parts inside joke. But the friend who needs only a moment of eye contact to know that you have their back – that’s the friend who you call your best.
I’m not telling you to start categorising your friends. I’m just thinking out loud. I do that sometimes. Just like I sometimes find myself in the odd position of having a coat hangar around my neck. It’s my prerogative.
They say blood is thicker than water. But some things are even thicker than blood. And when the zombie apocalypse begins and you’re not sure what to do next, just come to my place. We’ve been ready since eighth grade.What do you think? Leave a comment!
Today, I realised that I probably always will.
A friend sent me a link to someone’s post on Tumblr. A young man named Liam learns that someone he loves has been hurt. He desperately texts her, hoping to find out she’s ok. Later, he finds out she isn’t. She’s been taken from him by a drunk driver.
Time passes, and although she’s still gone, he continues to text her, thinking that maybe he’ll wake up from this nightmare. He texts her until his final message is rejected – her phone number no longer works.
I guess it hit a little close to home. I lost you to a drunk driver, too, Vicki. After you were gone, I continued to send you messages. An email every now and then, wishing for one last opportunity to make you smile. I kept sending those emails until my final message was rejected – your mailbox went offline.
After all these years, I realised that I will probably always miss you. And after all these years, I realised that that’s ok. For if you still exist in my memory, then you’re never truly gone. And if a time comes when everyone else has forgotten you, know that I will always think of you fondly.
2 people have commented. What do you think?
Arm chairs with bad legs and poor explanations
Testicle kicking and springboard destruction
Ninja cat can’t catch the wind in his sails
These are a few of my favourite fails…
The beauty of this stunning piece is that you can see the realization of what is to come in his face, just after the first leg breaks. From there, it’s only a matter of time…
I’ve always been confused by this title, since it seems more like this man wins at life than anything else. And so I continue through life, fiercely believing that this is real, and not some variety show fabrication.
Why doesn’t Superman do this to more bad guys? A swift kick to the Jacobs would end even the most powerful supervillain, would it not? In the scientific community, the resultant energy released from such impact is called a class 10 shockwave.
Source video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=desb0W6u80Y
The Sporting Accident
Yes, the man goes flying into a judge’s table. But look at the springboard after he makes initial contact. He just annihilates it.
Source video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YtUAMsEPP7w
Kitties Can’t Fly
The timing is perfect. It’s almost as though the cat was moving perfectly in time with the music. This is perfection.What do you think? Leave a comment!
My Dad never quite knows where to look when a camera is pointed at him. Yet, the pictures containing him are among my favourites.
My Dad is 65, and has a modest view of himself. Yet, he can still rock a pair of jeans, even if he does look a little embarrassed when I call him a sexy beast (and mean it).
My Dad sometimes thinks he doesn’t deserve my Mum, but he loves her more than anything in the world, and she loves him every bit as much, because he deserves it.
I’m the first one my Dad calls when he needs technical support, and I’m always happy to hear his voice. For all our past differences, we’re friends, and I love helping him.
I drop in to say hi, and he asks me to swap two DVD players, hooking one up so he can record from a digital channel that only the downstairs TV gets. He sheepishly asks me if I have time. I don’t. But I smile at him and say, “Let’s do it.” My next appointment can wait, because this sweet man needs my help.
Thanks to my Dad, I always remember not to worry about things over which I have no control. I know how to catch a ball, fix things, use power tools, sew a button, and kick ass in a game of Chess. Thanks to him, I’m a perfectionist and I take pride in my work.
When I walk up to him, I look forward to the hug I know will commence shortly. This isn’t some token hug between two people who are trying to be polite. I love this hug. It’s real. It feels as though we’re both trying to make up for all the bad times with each one.
My Dad doesn’t have the best health. When I hug him, I’m scared to squeeze too tightly, for fear that I’ll hurt his back or his shoulder. I probably don’t give him as much credit as I should.
Dad, you have so much knowledge, and you are wise even beyond your already many years. But perhaps what I love most about you is this:
You don’t agree with all of my life choices, and some of them still make you sad, but you respect my decisions. And while I don’t need anyone’s support or approval for much of what I do in my life, it’s nice to know that I still have your support, no matter what happens.
Thanks, Dad. I love you.3 people have commented. What do you think?