The boyfriend is my gotdammed hero!

Something tells me that, if I waited long enough, the kidnappers would pay me $100 to take her back.

It may be that he's learned her tricks and knew that this had to be another one.

/if my ex-g/f had done this, I would've assumed the same.

she should have sent the toe... with nailpolish...

The boyfriend?

flaminio: The boyfriend?

[www.homevideos.com image 266x210]

"WAAA! I've been abducted by K-MART!!! WAAAAA!!!"

I'd say it's over anyway after she pulled these shenanigans.

Okay, we got The Big Lebowski, The Ransom of Red Chief and Ruthless People all covered.

But no reference to the 1976 seminal Disney classic No Deposit No Return?!? It had Don Knotts in it fer cryin' out loud.

For shame, Fark. For shame.

Someone should show the HOT/CRAZY chart to the boyfriend. He's operating below the curve.

I would hold her hostage. By that I mean have sex with her. And then run away, because clearly these eyes say plate o' crazy.

Having one marijuana plant is a felony, and making a false kidnapping report is a misdemeanor?
/makes sense, got it.

I was living in Brownsville, Texas about a decade ago when I received a call at 3AM on a Thursday morning. It was a woman, very polite, and she explained to me that her compadres were holding my brother in Tijuana. They wanted me to wire them $100k by midnight Saturday or they were going to kill him. She gave me the wire account number and hung up. I immediately dialed my brother's phone number in California. I knew that he had gotten deeper into drugs in the last five years which strained the sparse communication between us. There was no answer at the last number I had for him.

I didn't have $100k. I contacted the local police who put me in touch with a man from the CIA. The agent said, in rambling terms, we don't have the time, money, or interest in recovering your brother. Instead, here's the number to a private agency staffed with former CIA/FBI agents that will help you, though they charge a few thousand dollars per day. Their recovery rate is near 100%, though, so that's your best bet, take it or leave it.

I didn't have a few thousand dollars, but I called the private consultants anyway. They said that they didn't work pro bono, and I should contact either my local police or the CIA. I explained that I'd already talked to the authorities who referred me to you. The guy says they can't help me, but if I let the ransom demand date pass, then there was a chance they'd let him go. About a 25% chance. It went up to fifty percent if I sent them some amount of money.

Well, I didn't have some amount of money, unless they'd be happy with the five hundred dollars in savings bonds my grandmother had been giving me for my birthday. I'm sure there value had appreciated dramatically. With no other choice, I let Saturday come and go.

At 3AM that Sunday, I get a call from the woman who says that they did not receive the money. She then told me to go look in my mailbox and she'd call me back. I go out to the mailbox and there is a small plastic container with a lid. Opening the lid, I picked up the bloody rag on the top, and there was a penis. Horrified, I lost my mind for a second and couldn't process what I was looking at. I remember running around my could-e-sac screaming, "A PENIS A PENIS OH MY GOD ITS HIS PENIS!"

When I calmed down and looked closer, there was a problem. The penis in the container was light brown, long, and circumcised. Both my brother and I had pale white, short little rudders that were certainly not circumcised. There were no obvious signs that the circumcision had been done recently -- bloody tip, etc -- so I figured that the Mexican captors hadn't clipped the tip for chewing gum. I took my new friend back inside with me and waited for the phone call.

"Hello?" I said.
"Yes, did you receive the penis?" she asked.
"Yeah I got a penis. There's a problem though."
"Que?"
"It's not my brother's."
"Si, si, yes it is your brothers."
"Lady, this penis is brown and doesn't have it's socks pulled up."
"Socks? Que?"
"S-O-C-K-S. That is what I want! It's not his penis. Now if you have him, then I want to talk to him."
"Hold on," she says.

A minute or so later, a guy with an agonized voice gets on the phone. He's pleading with his captors. I can tell that he's American but his voice is too deep to be my brother's.
"Who is this?" I ask.
"It's me, Tommy," he says.
"Tommy?"
"Yeah, your brother," he says, obviously delirious from pain.
"Well, good news and bad news Tom. Good news, I have your penis and I'll keep it on some ice. Bad news, you've got the wrong guy. I'm not your brother."
A pause.
Tommy says, "Is this 956-676-XXXX?"
I laugh and say, "No this 956-767-XXXX."
Tommy screams at his captors, "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG NUMBER!"
Then he starts pleading with me, "Please mister, please, you've got to get in touch with my brother. Please help -"
A single gunshot rang out and someone hung up the phone.

The moral of the story: don't let the cell phone age rob you of memorizing a few numbers. It might just save your life someday.

gunga galunga: Okay, we got The Big Lebowski, The Ransom of Red Chief and Ruthless People all covered.

But no reference to the 1976 seminal Disney classic No Deposit No Return?!? It had Don Knotts in it fer cryin' out loud.

For shame, Fark. For shame.

I demand Jennifer Connelly on a store mechanical horse!

When did Stanley Kubrick start doing mug shots?

spentmiles: I was living in Brownsville, Texas about a decade ago when I received a call at 3AM on a Thursday morning....

So they not only dialed the wrong phone number, but delivered the penis to the wrong address, which also happened to be yours? What are the odds?

I believe some good farkers have stated a term something like no stick dick in crazy... or something like that.

/applies

I have an ex that if they asked for that much I would counter their offer by telling tehm to give me $1000.

That Guy in the Dos Equis Commercials: I would hold her hostage. By that I mean have sex with her. And then run away, because clearly these eyes say plate o' crazy.

a Classical Greek philosopher, mathematician, student of Socrates, writer of philosophical dialogues, and founder of the Academy in Athens.

I don't agree.

Well, that and I think you'd know it's over when you start pulling elaborate stunts like this to find out if it's really over.

You can almost hear the cop as she's being arrested: "Hey, that's a great 'joke'! Here's one for you - get in the farking cruiser. If you're lucky, the punchline will only be a year in jail if you're found guilty. Oh, and here's the kicker - you've managed to get your friend, there, embroiled in the War on Drugs! I'm sure he'll thank you after spending a year or so in prison as well."

Rather esoteric sense of humor, there.

Ah....spentmiles is at it again. This is why I keep coming back.

spentmiles: I was living in Brownsville, Texas about a decade ago when I received a call at 3AM on a Thursday morning. It was a woman, very polite, and she explained to me that her compadres were holding my brother in Tijuana. They wanted me to wire them $100k by midnight Saturday or they were going to kill him. She gave me the wire account number and hung up. I immediately dialed my brother's phone number in California. I knew that he had gotten deeper into drugs in the last five years which strained the sparse communication between us. There was no answer at the last number I had for him.

I didn't have $100k. I contacted the local police who put me in touch with a man from the CIA. The agent said, in rambling terms, we don't have the time, money, or interest in recovering your brother. Instead, here's the number to a private agency staffed with former CIA/FBI agents that will help you, though they charge a few thousand dollars per day. Their recovery rate is near 100%, though, so that's your best bet, take it or leave it.

I didn't have a few thousand dollars, but I called the private consultants anyway. They said that they didn't work pro bono, and I should contact either my local police or the CIA. I explained that I'd already talked to the authorities who referred me to you. The guy says they can't help me, but if I let the ransom demand date pass, then there was a chance they'd let him go. About a 25% chance. It went up to fifty percent if I sent them some amount of money.

Well, I didn't have some amount of money, unless they'd be happy with the five hundred dollars in savings bonds my grandmother had been giving me for my birthday. I'm sure there value had appreciated dramatically. With no other choice, I let Saturday come and go.

At 3AM that Sunday, I get a call from the woman who says that they did not receive the money. She then told me to go look in my mailbox and she'd call me back. I go out to the mailbox and there is a small plastic container with a lid. Opening the lid, I picked up the bloody rag on the top, and there was a penis. Horrified, I lost my mind for a second and couldn't process what I was looking at. I remember running around my could-e-sac screaming, "A PENIS A PENIS OH MY GOD ITS HIS PENIS!"

When I calmed down and looked closer, there was a problem. The penis in the container was light brown, long, and circumcised. Both my brother and I had pale white, short little rudders that were certainly not circumcised. There were no obvious signs that the circumcision had been done recently -- bloody tip, etc -- so I figured that the Mexican captors hadn't clipped the tip for chewing gum. I took my new friend back inside with me and waited for the phone call.

I got this far before I had stop reading so that I didn't laugh too loud at work.

spentmiles makes my day, every day.

spentmiles, welcome to my favorite list.

I kind of like the wild look, might be worth $100.00 for a quick ride. I always keep a fake ID for such women.

//spentmiles makes my day, every day. fully agree, always great stuff.

Can I pay with my Groupons?

MooseUpNorth: flaminio: The boyfriend?

[www.homevideos.com image 266x210]

"WAAA! I've been abducted by K-MART!!! WAAAAA!!!"

Barbara: So, when do I get out of here?
Sandy: As soon as Mr. Stone pays the ransom.
Barbara: What's the problem? What is the ransom?
Sandy: Well, we asked for $500,000.
Barbara: That should be no problem.
Sandy: He wouldn't pay.
Barbara: He wouldn't pay?
Sandy: Then we asked him for $50,000.
Barbara: Yeah?
Sandy: He still wouldn't pay. So now we're lowering our price to $10,000.
Barbara: Do I understand this correctly? I'm being marked down?
[Starts crying]
Barbara: I've been kidnapped by K-Mart!

Butterflew: spentmiles makes my day, every day.

How long has he been doing this? The post from yesterday's screwdriver thread was the first one I've seen.

That would be a cool story but how would they get the wrong number and wrong address?

Reverse phone look up, online will give the address the phone is assigned to. But you putting way to much thought into it. Just enjoy the story.

spentmiles: I was living in Brownsville, Texas about a decade ago when I received a call at 3AM on a Thursday morning. It was a woman, very polite, and she explained to me that her compadres were holding my brother in Tijuana. They wanted me to wire them $100k by midnight Saturday or they were going to kill him. She gave me the wire account number and hung up. I immediately dialed my brother's phone number in California. I knew that he had gotten deeper into drugs in the last five years which strained the sparse communication between us. There was no answer at the last number I had for him.

I didn't have $100k. I contacted the local police who put me in touch with a man from the CIA. The agent said, in rambling terms, we don't have the time, money, or interest in recovering your brother. Instead, here's the number to a private agency staffed with former CIA/FBI agents that will help you, though they charge a few thousand dollars per day. Their recovery rate is near 100%, though, so that's your best bet, take it or leave it.

I didn't have a few thousand dollars, but I called the private consultants anyway. They said that they didn't work pro bono, and I should contact either my local police or the CIA. I explained that I'd already talked to the authorities who referred me to you. The guy says they can't help me, but if I let the ransom demand date pass, then there was a chance they'd let him go. About a 25% chance. It went up to fifty percent if I sent them some amount of money.

Well, I didn't have some amount of money, unless they'd be happy with the five hundred dollars in savings bonds my grandmother had been giving me for my birthday. I'm sure there value had appreciated dramatically. With no other choice, I let Saturday come and go.

At 3AM that Sunday, I get a call from the woman who says that they did not receive the money. She then told me to go look in my mailbox and she'd call me back. I go out to the mailbox and there is a small plastic container with a lid. Opening the lid, I picked up the bloody rag on the top, and there was a penis. Horrified, I lost my mind for a second and couldn't process what I was looking at. I remember running around my could-e-sac screaming, "A PENIS A PENIS OH MY GOD ITS HIS PENIS!"

When I calmed down and looked closer, there was a problem. The penis in the container was light brown, long, and circumcised. Both my brother and I had pale white, short little rudders that were certainly not circumcised. There were no obvious signs that the circumcision had been done recently -- bloody tip, etc -- so I figured that the Mexican captors hadn't clipped the tip for chewing gum. I took my new friend back inside with me and waited for the phone call.

"Hello?" I said.
"Yes, did you receive the penis?" she asked.
"Yeah I got a penis. There's a problem though."
"Que?"
"It's not my brother's."
"Si, si, yes it is your brothers."
"Lady, this penis is brown and doesn't have it's socks pulled up."
"Socks? Que?"
"S-O-C-K-S. That is what I want! It's not his penis. Now if you have him, then I want to talk to him."
"Hold on," she says.

A minute or so later, a guy with an agonized voice gets on the phone. He's pleading with his captors. I can tell that he's American but his voice is too deep to be my brother's.
"Who is this?" I ask.
"It's me, Tommy," he says.
"Tommy?"
"Yeah, your brother," he says, obviously delirious from pain.
"Well, good news and bad news Tom. Good news, I have your penis and I'll keep it on some ice. Bad news, you've got the wrong guy. I'm not your brother."
A pause.
Tommy says, "Is this 956-676-XXXX?"
I laugh and say, "No this 956-767-XXXX."
Tommy screams at his captors, "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG NUMBER!"
Then he starts pleading with me, "Please mister, please, you've got to get in touch with my brother. Please help -"
A single gunshot rang out and someone hung up the phone.

The moral of the story: don't let the cell phone age rob you of memorizing a few numbers. It might just save your life someday.



This story would be better it didn't have plot holes: a wrong number, i understand, but a wrong address too? What, this guy told his captors to send his penis to the wrong part of the country? I doubt that very much. But it's a good try!

Pair-o-Dice: I'd say it's over anyway after she pulled these shenanigans.

So it wasn't already over when the deadbeat boyfriend didn't want to pay back what he owed? Funny how people are overlooking that part.

wildstarr: spentmiles: I was living in Brownsville, Texas...

That would be a cool story but how would they get the wrong number and wrong address?

You didn't realize the story was made up?

Surool: Barbara: I've been kidnapped by K-Mart!

Yeah, you're right, I just wanted to avoid the alliteration. But kidnapped was the 80s term. Abducted didn't really popularize until the 90s or so.

Sinto: hammettman: You have to wonder what happened to this girl.

Obviously the potted marijuana plant influenced her to make poor life choices

It happens.

Should have sent him a toe.

CrispFlows: Morpher59: spentmiles: I was living in Brownsville, Texas about a decade ago when I received a call at 3AM on a Thursday morning....

So they not only dialed the wrong phone number, but delivered the penis to the wrong address, which also happened to be yours? What are the odds?

Dude's a writer - pretty good one at that if he wrote that just today... I wouldn't be surprised that plothole is getting under his skin right now.

Not to mention spelling cul-de-sac "could-e-sac".

*shudder*