"It's just what you need, dear."
Scroll down to open the box.
"Rear view mirror. Easy to see behind." Hmm.
"Har Har Har!"
There was an element of genius in the string of bank heists that played out in New York City for 11 weeks over the winter and spring. No alarms. No threatening notes, no messy dye packs. No one even noticed the thefts right off.Mr. Footman said he sold the rugs to bodegas for maybe $30 each.
This was surely because no money was taken. But the thief was not after cash. What he stole was something a real bank robber would not even notice on the way to the teller’s window, but was, to him, of value.
Those little rugs inside the front door.
The police would later create a list of six bank branches that were victims. That wasn’t even close.
“Thirty-seven incidents,” said Melissa Shuffield, a spokeswoman for JPMorgan Chase, the thief’s preferred bank.
“This is not a hoax call. There’s a bomb in St. George’s Hall and it will go off in 45 minutes."
“You probably done the bomb scare yourself!”At 4:00 p.m. that day, Mr. McArdle was arrested. Police had traced the second call he had made on his cell phone.
“If any individual should abandon him, has been humiliated by him, the fact that she stands with him speaks volumes for her and I hope volumes for him.”I imagine it may be quite some time before his fiancé's family feels the same.
"I may not be a football hero,
But I'm a star with the beautiful girls;
You never see me in the thick of a fight,
'Cause I do my scoring mostly at night!"
The Manhattan Project was, the director of the Office of Censorship once said, the "best-kept single secret of the war," as The New York Times put it in a piece that ran on August 9, 1945, the day of the bombing of Nagasaki.
And how remarkable this secrecy was! With some 130,000 people involved in building the bomb, how is it possible this story didn't leak out?
Well, as nuclear historian Alex Wellerstein documents frequently at his invaluable site Restricted Data, the secrecy of the Manhattan Project was not all it is cracked up to be. Wellerstein says that the fact that "the Army was working on a new super-weapon that involved atomic energy" was something of an "open secret" in Washington prior to the bomb's use, and, moreover, there were numerous press reports that gave information about the project.
But there is one that stands out, Wellerstein writes, and that is a report from The Cleveland Press, by columnist John W. Raper, who happened upon the clandestine city of Los Alamos, a year and a half before bombs would fall on Japan.
"Forbidden City" the headline proclaimed. It continued: "Uncle Sam's Mystery Town Directed by '2d Einstein.'"
The story was introduced by a brief editor's note: "Jack Raper, Press columnist, has returned to Cleveland following a vacation in New Mexico, where he found the following story."
And then the reporting began:
"SANTA FE, N.M. — New Mexico has a mystery city, one with an area from eight to 20 square miles, according to guesses. It has a population of between 5000 and 6000 persons, not more than probably half a dozen of whom can step outside of the city except by special permission of the city boss. He grants permission only in the most exceptional circumstances and under the most rigid conditions. And it is even more difficult for a non-resident to enter than for a resident to leave."Read the rest: The Time a Cleveland Newspaper Divulged the Manhattan Project, The Atlantic>>
For years, faking your own death has been an escape scheme of the desperate and a get-rich scam of the foolish. Some scammers hope to get rich quick on life insurance fraud; others try to escape the law when their other schemes go wrong. CNBC Prime's "American Greed: The Fugitives" reports on one of the latter: Aubry Lee Price, a preacher turned day-trader, defrauded investors out of millions, then allegedly faked his own death by disappearing off a Key West ferry. Although Florida issued a death certificate, the FBI suspects that Price is still alive.
But insurance companies have wised up, according to Dennis Jay, spokesman for the Coalition Against Insurance Fraud. Not only do they investigate suspicious life insurance claims vigorously; they also find that it's hard for people to stay off the grid year after year. Here are some of the dumbest ways that the bogus "dead" have resurfaced and gotten caught.
1. Don't use a corpse of the opposite sex
Molly and Clayton Daniels faked Clayton's death to keep him out of jail and to collect on his $110,000 life insurance policy. They dug up a corpse, dressed it in Clayton's clothes, then burned it in a car crash. However, DNA testing revealed that the corpse was female.
2. Don't claim your life insurance before you're dead
After Los Angeles resident Raul Pero "died" in his native Chile, his bereaved roommate Gloria Alcaraz called one of his six life insurers, West Coast Life, to claim the death benefit. Only trouble was, Alcaraz called West Coast Life one day before Pero's Chilean death certificate was issued.
3. Don't write a best-seller after you're dead
After Brit Philip Sessarago faked his own death and changed his name to Tom Carew, he wrote the popular book Jihad! and was recognized while being interviewed on television.
4. Don't think of DWD: driving while dead
Less than a month after Long Island man Raymond Roth, with the help of his son Jonathan, faked his own death with the help of his son Jonathan, to collect on life insurance, Roth was caught speeding in Santee, S.C.
5. Remember you're not the "Walking Dead"
A one-time millionaire, Australian businessman Harry Gordon was doing pretty well maintaining the fiction that he was dead … until he ran into his brother hiking popular Mount Maunganui in Tauranga, New Zealand. His brother persuaded Gordon's "widow" to go to the police.
6. Don't leave your fingerprints on your own death certificate
Maybe he blew it when he called the life insurance company pretending to be his wife, but the fingerprints were a dead giveaway. Briton Anthony McErlean, who faked being killed by a truck in Honduras, was arrested for fraud after police found his fingerprints on his own bogus death certificate.
7. Don't go to the doctor after you're dead
After getting his fake death certificate from Afghanistan, even after his ex-wife claimed 300,000 pounds in life insurance, Ahmad Akhtary continued to live, work and pay taxes in Gloucester, England—under his own name. The couple got pinched six months into the fraud, after Akhtary visited his doctor.- Bogus death for big bucks: 7 dumbest mistakes, CNBC>>
TORONTO - The Canadian Medical Association announced today that the procedure of twisting a man’s scrotum and asking him to turn his head and cough is a longstanding prank.
Until now, doctors claimed that the procedure was to help diagnose the existence of a hernia, but have admitted that it was just a sadistic joke to make men feel physically and morally violated.
“Man, you should have seen the look on all of your faces” stated CMA President Dr. Gabriel Saunders while chuckling with other doctors. “We got a lot of deer-in-the-headlights looks and plenty of forty yard stares after doing it. Some men even pretend it never happened, but those types always get a nervous twitch when I snap on my plastic gloves.”
Doctors are still dumbfounded by how long it took male patients to figure out that they were being spoofed.
“Why did patients think doctors fondling their junk and coughing would find a hernia when we have ultrasound and other diagnostic equipment to do that?” Dr. Saunders rhetorically asked.
At press time, CMA doctors were still encouraging older men to have their prostates examined for risk of cancer before the group of physicians erupted in laughter.Doctors admit ‘turn-your-head-and-cough’ procedure one big practical joke, The Beaverton>>
"Photographer Sarah Brimley helps me relax to try to get my best "natural" picture. She has worked with some of the biggest models in fashion as well as a number of celebrities.
It's standard to retouch photos for small things like skin, fixing stray hairs, she says.
'Digital cameras are so sharp that retouching is even more necessary because you can see every little blemish on the skin. In film you never used to see that.'
Extreme airbrushing is rare, she believes."
"She did a lovely job with my photos and I thought the untouched images were actually quite flattering.
Then it was time for the post-production.
It was a brutal experience."
"I use any materials of the right size, shape and colour: toys, shells, buttons, plastic cutlery, beads, jewellery, curtain hooks, springs etc. No colour is added – everything is used ‘as found'. The portraits need to be viewed in 2 ways: from a distance (to recognize the person) and close up (to identify the materials.) They work rather like the late 19th century painting technique known as ‘pointillism' (eg Georges Seurat) where dots of colour were applied close together but not blended. As the viewer steps back from the picture, the colours are blended by the viewer's eye to reveal the complete image."
"Dude, we put toys in Happy Meals… this isn’t happening."
"All he did was distill energies that were already there, urgent but incoherent, into the beautifully tragic figure of a man who ought to have existed but, almost inexplicably, didn’t."They did, however, publish it as fiction.
"Wallenstein presents the story of a secretary who receives a certain form whose intent is quite clear, but which in her view is not filled out according to her department’s precise demands. Rather than process the form, the secretary returns it to the sender with a note demanding that it be resubmitted in the appropriate manner. The sender does not comply, and instead registers a complaint against the secretary’s claim, along with written proof from his departmental protocol that the form was indeed filled out properly. A supervisor from the interdepartmental coordination office is brought in to resolve the issue and decides that the problem actually lies in the inconsistent methods of classification employed by the different departments. An inspector from the Standards department disagrees and claims that certain terms that appear in the form are inadequately defined. A lexicology department assessor is summoned and… on and on it goes, ad infinitum, and nothing gets done.Ad infinitum, indeed.
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Faye JohnsonThat is all.
"Wanted: Caretaker For Farm. Simply watch over a 688 acre patch of hilly farmland and feed a few cows, you get 300 a week and a nice 2 bedroom trailer, someone older and single preferred but will consider all, relocation a must, you must have a clean record and be trustworthy—this is a permanent position, the farm is used mainly as a hunting preserve, is overrun with game, has a stocked 3 acre pond, but some beef cattle will be kept, nearest neighbor is a mile away, the place is secluded and beautiful, it will be a real get away for the right person, job of a lifetime—if you are ready to relocate please contact asap, position will not stay open."
Jack painstakingly designed the ad to conjure a very particular male fantasy: the cowboy or rancher, out in the open country, herding cattle, mending fences, hunting game—living a dream that could transform a post-recession drifter into a timeless American icon. From the many discarded drafts of the ad that investigators later found, it was clear that Jack was searching for just the right pitch to catch a certain kind of man’s eye. He tinkered with details—the number of acres on the property, the idea of a yearly bonus and paid utilities—before settling on his final language: “hilly,” “secluded,” “job of a lifetime.” If a woman applied for the job, Jack wouldn’t bother responding. If a man applied, he would ask for the critical information right off the bat: How old are you? Do you have a criminal record? Are you married?Read the rest of the story: Murder by Craigslist. A serial killer finds a newly vulnerable class of victims: white, working-class men. The Atlantic>>
“I did not want to mention my sighting until I was sure that I had not photographed a log or something inanimate.
I know peoples in the USA who have friends in the military. They had my photo analyzed and they have no doubt that I photographed an animate object.
I was really excited as I am sure that some strange creatures are lurking deep in Loch Ness.”When he finally revealed his picture, it attracted worldwide attention, as do most photos of the mysterious creature.
“So as far as I’m concerned it’s perfectly valid, just a bit of fun. How do you think Loch Ness would have fared over the years without that picture? I have no guilt about what I have done.”
I learned early to expect the unexpected from Jeff. He and I shared the same sense of humor and we spent many joyful moments laughing at life events that many people never saw the humor in...Why do I consider this mother's post deceptive? Her post is not a lie, but it is a perspective. You are getting all of your information about Jeff from one source - his mother.
Jeff loved practical jokes and was a master at them. He loved working with new laborers at a construction site. His favorite practical joke was to send them to get a “dunkolator valve”, explaining to this unsuspecting soul how important time was and it had to be obtained quickly. There is, of course, no such thing as a dunkolater valve. When the laborer was unable to produce one from Jeff’s supplies, Jeff sent him to other plumbers on the job to borrow one, QUICKLY. The other plumbers became aware of this joke, knowing Jeff had sent him from group to group, until there was no one else to ask. When the laborer returned to Jeff empty handed, Jeff would tell him not to worry, they could substitute another part that actually existed...
My favorite practical joke became a family joke. It was one that Jeff was able to pull repetitively on different, unsuspecting family members. One Halloween a few years ago, my mother sent Jeff a life-size fuzzy rat, complete with shiny, beady eyes and a nasty skinny tail. Jeff got a lot of mileage out of that rat, hiding it places where the kids would find it and scream. A year after his death, we were packing to move to San Diego. My daughter-in-law was working in the kitchen when I heard a scream from her and I went running. She was pulling things from between the cabinet and refrigerator and reported to me that we had a rat. I looked in the direction she was pointing and sure enough, it was a rat, but it was Jeff’s rat. The last time he had come to my house he must have brought it and hidden it back by the refrigerator, waiting for me to find it. I pulled it out and started laughing…