Life Scams Quotes

When I consider Life, 'tis all a cheat; Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: To-morrow's falser than the former day; Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possesst.

All this "honest work" kills beauty in man too. It forces men into poor diet, poor choices, poor paths outside the workplace. Everything in life for them, whether they chose so or not, must revolve around their "honest work". No time to research, pick, and cook a proper meal so I have chips and soda again. No time to work out, to worship the sun in peace, to study so I watch television and jerk off in-between beers again. No time to even so much as consider another way of life so I hammer nails into useless thing for useless people in useless place again. You are being scammed, robbed.

Like being unwell was a crime or a scam or a self-indulgence.

There were no sex classes. No friendship classes. No classes on how to navigate a bureaucracy, build an organization, raise money, create a database, buy a house, love a child, spot a scam, talk someone out of suicide, or figure out what was important to me. Not knowing how to do these things is what messes people up in life, not whether they know algebra or can analyze literature.

Taken from the dedication in my debut novel Exactly 23 days. To honour all women on International Women's day. For women everywhere: When you know you are finally mended, spread the word, hold out your hand, share some love from your heart and some laughter from your soul and be there for a new member of the sisterhood who needs your help. Let's all help our sisters worldwide to stand tall and know, they can and they will recover, survive and thrive, to live the life they deserve. To all the sisters who reached out and held my hand in whatever way you could, who cried my tears with me, and laughter my laughter too, I thank every one of you. I survived.

If Nana thinks you're trying to scam her, she'll tell you, and if she thinks you ruined her life by discontinuing Arnold's Thin bread, she'll let you know that, too. I guess when you spend eighty-seven years swallowing other people's bullshit, there comes a time when you gotta spit some back.

You see that girl, she looks so happy right? But inside she's dying. She's hurt and tired. Tired of all the drama, tired of not being good enough, tired of life. But she doesn't want to look dramatic, weak or attention seeking so she keeps it all inside. Act's like everything's perfect but she cries at night, boy does she cry at night, so that everybody thinks she is the happiest person they know, that she has no problems and her life is perfect. Little do they know.

Further, in countries where wealth comes from rent-seeking, political patronage, or regulatory capture (which, I remind the reader, is how the powerful and the insiders use regulation to scam the public, or red tape to slow down competition), wealth is seen as zero-sum.*2

There were always blind, deaf, or handicapped people hanging around the brothers, and I figured it was evidence that they either had a soft, compassionate side or were running some kind of mysterious scam.

She had this chant, "All will be well, all will be well." I started to believe them, but the whole thing was a scam. It was just some stupid thing to say to make me believe life isn't unfair. And just when I thought life was perfect, it became unbearable again.

Show me a universal life manual and I will show you a ready-made scam. Life is spontaneous. Live and learn.

I miss figuring out scams with my friends, having a beer, going to the movies. Dumb, small life things.

Her reaction had not been unusual. Anti-natalism—the idea that humans should not breed—was not a popular view. Not even amongst most green freaks. This despite the fact that all the troubles that existed in the world existed solely because of human beings. Despite the obviousness of this idea, admitting this to the average person was like confessing to a murder. Even in a post-apocalyptic wasteland where all that existed was misery and squalor, humans, in their never-ending capacity for delirium, would without a doubt still continue bringing new people into this world instead of realizing that doing so was both cruel and insane. That was how strongly the delusion that life was good was embedded into us. It had to be since otherwise there wouldn’t be any humans around. Life was like a pyramid scheme that had to be constantly shoved down the throats of new victims in order to keep the scam going.

The friend who saved up to invest in a fund and saw her money dissolve like sugar on the tongues of bankers who barely got a scolding from the SEC. The life we’d been promised was a scam,

It’s time to ask why [the United States] is the only country in the world where we permit our children to be saddled with tens — sometimes hundreds — of thousands of dollars of debt before they begin to earn a penny.

It's one of these juvenile therapy scams,” he went on, sprinkling a pinch of the Golden Virginia tobacco along the rolling paper. “They advertise help for your troubled teen by staring at the stars and singing ‘Kumbaya’. Instead, it’s a bunch of bearded nutjobs left in charge of some of the craziest kids I’ve ever seen in my life—bulimics, nymphos, cutters trying to saw their wrists with the plastic spoons from lunch. You wouldn’t believe the shit that went on.” He shook his head. “Most of the kids had been so mentally screwed by their parents they needed more than twelve weeks of wilderness. They needed reincarnation. To die and just come back as a grasshopper, as a fucking weed. That’d be preferable to the agony they were in just by being alive.

You and Nick are good together," Jake said. "Probably in more ways than you know." "Let's not go there." "You keep saying that to yourself, but maybe it's time for a rethink." "Since when are you interested in my love life?" "You don't have one. You're all about the job. With Bob, you can have both." "You don't know anything about Bob." "I know it's got to be Nick, because there isn't anybody else," Jake said. "Who could possibly compete?" "Someone who isn't a criminal on the FBI's Most Wanted list for starters." "How boring would that guy be? He couldn't match the excitement Nick brings to your life.

Success requires hard work, patience, resilience, talent, teamwork and yes, hard work again. Any “opportunity” promising to circumvent any of the latter is most likely a scam. Overnight success is a misconception and planning your life around it is plain senseless.

Don't allow chance takes to take chances with your life.

On the wings of market-friendly feminism, the idea that personal advancement is a subversive form of political progress has been accepted as gospel. The trickiest thing about this idea is that it is incomplete and insufficient without being entirely wrong. The feminist scammer rarely sets out to scam anyone, and would argue, certainly, that she does not belong in this category. She just wants to be successful, to gain the agency that men claim so easily, to have the sort of life she wants. She should be able to have that, shouldn't she? The problem is that a feminism that prioritizes the individual will always, at its core, be at odds with a feminism that prioritizes the collective. The problem is that it is so easy today for a woman to seize upon an ideology she believes in and then exploit it, or deploy it in a way that actually runs counter to that ideology. That is in fact exactly what today's ecosystem of success encourages a woman to do.

I think you’re confusing real-life Meg with a character you’ve invented. In the real world, con artists don’t have friends. Every word they say is a lie, and their only goal is to scam as many people as possible.

When America began, government cost every citizen $20 (in [2003] money) per year. Taxes rose during wars, but for most of the life of America, spending never exceeded a few hundred dollars per person. During World War II, government got much bigger. It was supposed to shrink again after the war but never did. Instead, it just kept growing. Now the federal government costs every man, woman, and child an average of $10,000 per year.

Whoever follows Trump into the White House, if the President doesn’t manage to make himself the leader for life, as he has started to joke about—and Trump never actually jokes—will discover a tangle of frauds and scams and lawlessness.

President doesn’t manage to make himself the leader for life, as he has started to joke about—and Trump never actually jokes—will discover a tangle of frauds and scams and lawlessness. Trump and his minions will do anything to cover up that reality, and I mean anything.

Oh, I had all sorts of ego-polishing notions about my unhappy self. And I had theories, too. What, after all, is a depressed intellectual without his theories? I can’t reconstruct the details of them now. It would be too boring to try. But there was a lot of Nietzsche involved and Freud, too—oh, and Marx. That was it, my trinity: Nietzsche, Freud, and Marx. Which is to say I believed that power, sex, and money explained all human interactions, all history, and all the world. To pretend anything else, I thought, was rank hypocrisy, the worst of intellectual sins. Faith was a scam, Hope was a lie, Love was an illusion. Power, sex, and money—these three—were the real, the only stuff of life. And the greatest of these, of course, was sex. I don’t remember how I worked all this out philosophically. But for some reason, the other two persons of my trinity—power and money—were things to be disdained. They were motive forces for them, you know, for society’s evil masters, the greedy, the corrupt, the makers of orthodoxy. Sex, though—sex was for us. It was the expressive medium of the liberated, the unconventional, the unbowed, the Natural Man. When it came to sex, there was nothing—nothing consensual—that could repel or alienate such enlightened folks as we. Anyone who questioned that doctrine or looked askance at some sexual practice, anyone who even wondered aloud if perhaps, like any other appetite—for food, say, or alcohol or material goods—our sexual desire might occasionally require discipline or restraint, was painfully irrelevant, grossly out of the loop, unhip in the extreme. No, no. A free man, a natural man, a new man—so my theories went—threw off hypocrisy and explored his sexuality to its depths.

I think that [cynicism] exists because of Jon’s show,” he said. “I think it becomes a feedback loop that’s corrosive. Congressmen do dumb things, then they’re highlighted for doing dumb things, and people watch it and say that congressmen do dumb things, and so then when another congressman does a dumb thing, [Stewart says], ‘Well, my audience wants to watch a congressman do a dumb thing.’ So when the audience laughs at the congressman doing a dumb thing, Jon says, ‘Hey, I got a great scam here, lemme go find another congressman doing a dumb thing.

It's absolutely possible to experience bliss during breakups. Bliss that is different, but equal in value to, the euphoria experienced while sharing your life with someone. I am convinced that heartbreak is an unnaturally induced state which we were conditioned into believing is natural. It's a scam. I feel that the breaking of a relation can be equal in value to the making of it. And if we realize the joy that can be mined from the experience, we would eliminate this form of suffering, from our lives, altogether. You can feel catapulted into glistening self-love, enlightenment, growth and confidence, during emergence from the state of being in love with someone. It's a treasure trove of its own merit.

So much of what my generation had been promised disintegrated at our touch. Consider the friend, a painter of seascapes, who dreamed of affording waterfront property. On the day the levees broke, the Gulf flooded her studio and painted her walls with costly oils. Consider the friend who worked for six years at a company he hated on the promise of a sabbatical, only to be let go. The friend who complained about family reunions and lost every relative over the age of fifty to a virus. The friend who saved up to invest in a fund and saw her money dissolve like sugar on the tongues of bankers who barely got a scolding from the SEC. The life we'd been promised was a scam, the world a scam, the whole goddamn play a scam and there seemed nothing to do but burn it down as rioters did in Paris, New York, Nairobi—and then creep back through the embers because what other choice did we have?

Okay. But all the extracurricular activities stop now, Norton. The investment counseling, the scams, the free tax advice. It all stops. Get H and R Block to tell you how to declare your income.” Warden Norton’s face first went brick-red . . . and then all the color fell out of it. “You’re going back into solitary for that. Thirty days. Bread and water. Another black mark. And while you’re in, think about this: if anything that’s been going on should stop, the library goes. I will make it my personal business to see that it goes back to what it was before you came here. And I will make your life . . . very hard. Very difficult. You’ll do the hardest time it’s possible to do. You’ll lose that one-bunk Hilton down in Cellblock Five, for starters, and you’ll lose those rocks on the windowsill, and you’ll lose any protection the guards have given you against the sodomites. You will . . . lose everything. Clear?” I guess it was clear enough.

Cornelius Vanderbilt and his fellow tycoon John D. Rockefeller were often called 'robber barons'. Newspapers said they were evil, and ran cartoons showing Vanderbilt as a leech sucking the blood of the poor. Rockefeller was depicted as a snake. What the newspapers printed stuck--we still think of Vanderbilt and Rockefeller as 'robber barons'. But it was a lie. They were neither robbers nor barons. They weren't robbers, because they didn't steal from anyone, and they weren't barons--they were born poor. Vanderbilt got rich by pleasing people. He invented ways to make travel and shipping things cheaper. He used bigger ships, faster ships, served food onboard. People liked that. And the extra volume of business he attracted allowed him to lower costs. He cut the New York--Hartford fare from $8 to $1. That gave consumers more than any 'consumer group' ever has. It's telling that the 'robber baron' name-calling didn't come from consumers. It was competing businessmen who complained, and persuaded the media to join in. Rockefeller got rich selling oil. First competitors and then the government called him a monopolist, but he wasn't--he had competitors. No one was forced to buy his oil. Rockefeller enticed people to buy it by selling it for less. That's what his competitors hated. He found cheaper ways to get oil from the ground to the gas pump. This made life better for millions. Working-class people, who used to go to bed when it got dark, could suddenly afford fuel for their lanterns, so they could stay up and read at night. Rockefeller's greed might have even saved the whales, because when he lowered the price of kerosene and gasoline, he eliminated the need for whale oil. The mass slaughter of whales suddenly stopped. Bet your kids won't read 'Rockefeller saved the whales' in environmental studies class. Vanderbilt's and Rockefeller's goal might have been just to get rich. But to achieve that, they had to give us what we wanted.

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I backed my car into a cop car the other day Well he just drove off sometimes life's OK I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what did I say Well you just laughed it off it was all OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on any way Well, a fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam It was worth it just to learn from sleight of hand Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands Good news will work its way to all them plans We both got fired on exactly the same day Well we'll float on good news is on the way And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on Now don't you worry we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Don't worry we'll all float on (alright already) And we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Don't worry even if things end up a bit too heavy We'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on OK Don't worry we'll all float on Even if things get heavy we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Don't you worry we'll all float on alright All float on

From working with black males for more than a dozen years, I can say with confidence that many black males are both lazy and irresponsible. This view isn't popular with problem profiteers who blame all black woes upon white racism or poverty, but it is true, nonetheless. The young men I work with represent just the tip of the iceberg of a far larger laziness problem within the black male population. The typical black male I work with has no work ethic, has little sense of direction in his life, is hostile toward whites and women, has an attitude of entitlement, and has an amoral outlook on life. He has no strong male role model in his life to teach him the value of hard work, patience, self-control, and character. He is emotionally adrift and is nearly illiterate-either because he dropped out of school or because he's just not motivated enough to learn. Many of the black males I've worked with have had a "don't give a damn" attitude toward work and life and believe that "white America" owes them a living. They have no shame about going on welfare because they believe whites owe them for past discrimination and slavery. This absurd thinking results in a lifetime of laziness and blaming, while taxpayers pick up the tab for individuals who lack character and a strong work ethic. Frequently, blacks who attempt to enter the workforce often become problems for their employers. This is because they also have an entitlement mentality that puts little emphasis on working hard to get ahead. They expect to be paid for doing little work, often show up late, and have bad attitudes while on the job. They're so sensitized to "racism" that they feel abused by every slight, no matter if it's intentional, unconscious, or even based in reality.

Variations on a tired, old theme Here’s another example of addict manipulation that plagues parents. The phone rings. It’s the addict. He says he has a job. You’re thrilled. But you’re also apprehensive. Because you know he hasn’t simply called to tell you good news. That kind of thing just doesn’t happen. Then comes the zinger you knew would be coming. The request. He says everybody at this company wears business suits and ties, none of which he has. He says if you can’t wire him $1800 right away, he won’t be able to take the job. The implications are clear. Suddenly, you’ve become the deciding factor as to whether or not the addict will be able to take the job. Have a future. Have a life. You’ve got that old, familiar sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. This is not the child you gladly would have financed in any way possible to get him started in life. This is the child who has been strung out on drugs for years and has shown absolutely no interest in such things as having a conventional job. He has also, if you remember correctly, come to you quite a few times with variations on this same tired, old story. One variation called for a car so he could get to work. (Why is it that addicts are always being offered jobs in the middle of nowhere that can’t be reached by public transportation?) Another variation called for the money to purchase a round-trip airline ticket to interview for a job three thousand miles away. Being presented with what amounts to a no-choice request, the question is: Are you going to contribute in what you know is probably another scam, or are you going to say sorry and hang up? To step out of the role of banker/victim/rescuer, you have to quit the job of banker/victim/rescuer. You have to change the coda. You have to forget all the stipulations there are to being a parent. You have to harden your heart and tell yourself parenthood no longer applies to you—not while your child is addicted. Not an easy thing to do. P.S. You know in your heart there is no job starting on Monday. But even if there is, it’s hardly your responsibility if the addict goes well dressed, badly dressed, or undressed. Facing the unfaceable: The situation may never change In summary, you had a child and that child became an addict. Your love for the child didn’t vanish. But you’ve had to wean yourself away from the person your child has become through his or her drugs and/ or alcohol abuse. Your journey with the addicted child has led you through various stages of pain, grief, and despair and into new phases of strength, acceptance, and healing. There’s a good chance that you might not be as healthy-minded as you are today had it not been for the tribulations with the addict. But you’ll never know. The one thing you do know is that you wouldn’t volunteer to go through it again, even with all the awareness you’ve gained. You would never have sacrificed your child just so that you could become a better, stronger person. But this is the way it has turned out. You’re doing okay with it, almost twenty-four hours a day. It’s just the odd few minutes that are hard to get through, like the ones in the middle of the night when you awaken to find that the grief hasn’t really gone away—it’s just under smart, new management. Or when you’re walking along a street or in a mall and you see someone who reminds you of your addicted child, but isn’t a substance abuser, and you feel that void in your heart. You ache for what might have been with your child, the happy life, the fulfilled career. And you ache for the events that never took place—the high school graduation, the engagement party, the wedding, the grandkids. These are the celebrations of life that you’ll probably never get to enjoy. Although you never know. DON’T LET    YOUR KIDS  KILL  YOU  A Guide for Parents of Drug and Alcohol Addicted Children PART 2

Treating Abuse Today (Tat), 3(4), pp. 26-33 Freyd: You were also looking for some operational criteria for false memory syndrome: what a clinician could look for or test for, and so on. I spoke with several of our scientific advisory board members and I have some information for you that isn't really in writing at this point but I think it's a direction you want us to go in. So if I can read some of these notes . . . TAT: Please do. Freyd: One would look for false memory syndrome: 1. If a patient reports having been sexually abused by a parent, relative or someone in very early childhood, but then claims that she or he had complete amnesia about it for a decade or more; 2. If the patient attributes his or her current reason for being in therapy to delayed-memories. And this is where one would want to look for evidence suggesting that the abuse did not occur as demonstrated by a list of things, including firm, confident denials by the alleged perpetrators; 3. If there is denial by the entire family; 4. In the absence of evidence of familial disturbances or psychiatric illnesses. For example, if there's no evidence that the perpetrator had alcohol dependency or bipolar disorder or tendencies to pedophilia; 5. If some of the accusations are preposterous or impossible or they contain impossible or implausible elements such as a person being made pregnant prior to menarche, being forced to engage in sex with animals, or participating in the ritual killing of animals, and; 6. In the absence of evidence of distress surrounding the putative abuse. That is, despite alleged abuse going from age two to 27 or from three to 16, the child displayed normal social and academic functioning and that there was no evidence of any kind of psychopathology. Are these the kind of things you were asking for? TAT: Yeah, it's a little bit more specific. I take issue with several, but at least it gives us more of a sense of what you all mean when you say "false memory syndrome." Freyd: Right. Well, you know I think that things are moving in that direction since that seems to be what people are requesting. Nobody's denying that people are abused and there's no one denying that someone who was abused a decade ago or two decades ago probably would not have talked about it to anybody. I think I mentioned to you that somebody who works in this office had that very experience of having been abused when she was a young teenager-not extremely abused, but made very uncomfortable by an uncle who was older-and she dealt with it for about three days at the time and then it got pushed to the back of her mind and she completely forgot about it until she was in therapy. TAT: There you go. That's how dissociation works! Freyd: That's how it worked. And after this came up and she had discussed and dealt with it in therapy, she could again put it to one side and go on with her life. Certainly confronting her uncle and doing all these other things was not a part of what she had to do. Interestingly, though, at the same time, she has a daughter who went into therapy and came up with memories of having been abused by her parents. This daughter ran away and is cutoff from the family-hasn't spoken to anyone for three years. And there has never been any meeting between the therapist and the whole family to try to find out what was involved. TAT: If we take the first example -- that of her own abuse -- and follow the criteria you gave, we would have a very strong disbelief in the truth of what she told.

Damon Silvers, an AFL-CIO attorney and a member of the panel, was grilling me about PPIP, trying to get me to admit it was a heads-Wall-Street-wins-tails-taxpayers-lose scam, when the cross-examination took a personal turn. “Let me stop you right there,” Silvers said. “What I don’t get—and I practice law, and you’ve been in banking—is a deal—” “I’ve never actually been in banking,” I interrupted. “Well, a long time ago,” he said. “Actually, never,” I replied. “Investment banking,” Silvers retorted. “Never investment banking,” I said. “I’ve spent my entire life in public service at the Treasury and the Federal Reserve.” “All right,” Silvers conceded. “Very well then.” And then he continued his attack on PPIP as a shocking handout to financial interests.

But that's life. That's your education. A series of opportunities and missed opportunities. Exams and grades and blue books and blue balls and majors and minors and liberal arts and liberal minds. The scam of it is, no matter how much you paid or how far you traveled, everybody's receipt says pretty much the same damn thing. BA, MBA, JD, PhD, MA, BS. BS. That's all it is, right?

splinter in the butt as you slide down the banister of life

He needed a personal assistant at this point to keep track of his schedule. Time-management was not his forte. This had never before posed a problem, as he was used to no life at all, no friends, no one giving a crap about what he was doing ever. But now he had three different—no, four scams running at the same time. What the hell was he thinking?

Hello all, Why must we be confused by all this online scammers when we all know that there has never been any other oracle apart from the the great spell casters called lama lama oracle temple, The great oracle and also i my self called kuq ya that is greatest of all, Kuq ya means GREATEST AMONG ALL THE SPELL CASTERS. This oracle has been in existence for so many years even before i was born i inherited it from my great grand father. Since we have been existing we have never failed in solving any kind of problem anyone must have been having cos we know the spirits that we serve we never lets us down, We perform various sacrifice to this spirits from time to time to make our powerful and doings effective. This temple is out on the internet to tell all of you that is wasting your time and also your hard earned money dealing with all this hungry souls that called themselves spell casters by bring cause to themselves by claiming to be what they are not, We advise you all that you should stop it as it is not right to do such, Because those spell casters that called themselves different names / temples are scammers,You will do this greatest oracle good by doing that.They are scammers and all those testimony there are posted by them also and not the people they have help,They are doing all this to get money to fed there-self and there family members !!! BE WARNED ALL OF YOU THAT NEED HELP FROM SPELL CASTERS AS IT IS BECAUSE OF ALL OF YOU WE HAVE DECIDED TO COME ONLINE TO REDUCE AND STOP ALL THIS FAKE SPELL CASTERS, AS WE GOT PERMISSION FROM THE FBI !!.. I have made so many of them online that are spoiling this great temple good work go back to the sea and some blind. I am Dr Kuq Ya the messenger to the great oracle of Nigeria,Indian,Indonesia,Singapore,UK,USA,Uganda,japan,Spain,Germany,Paris,Dubai,South Africa. To mention but a few..We are know well there as the great temple that has helped them get many of there ANCESTRAL problems solve in recent times. But we are also extending this great offer to those that have any kind of problem, when i mean any kind of problem i mean any problem at all you might be having in this life,Such as getting your lover back,you want to be rich, you feel like using charms on someone to get something you like from him or her or getting your scam many back, wining a lottery, to mention but a few. KUQ YA IS HERE FOR YOUR SERVICES AND PLEASE STOP DEALING WITH THOSE SO CALLED SPELL CASTERS THAT HAVE REALLY MESSED UP THIS WORK ONLINE. I HAVE NEVER BEEN ONLINE,BUT THE PRESIDENTS OF THE ABOVE COUNTRIES CALLED ME ON PHONE AND ALSO PERSONALLY HOLD A MEETING AND THEY ASK ME THE MESSENGER TO START ADVERTING AND TELL ALL ABOUT THIS GREATEST ORACLE THAT IS SO DURABLE, PERFECT, MARVELOUS, AND GOOD WORKS TO AVOID THIS SCAMMING THAT IS GOING ON ONLINE. I WILL BE ENDING HERE NOW, IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING BOTHERING YOUR MIND AND YOU NEED PERMANENT SOLUTION TO IT WITHOUT ANY SIDE EFFECT OR HARM, KINDLY SEND AN EMAIL TO THE FOLLOWING EMAIL ADDRESS: great.spellcaster@yahoo.com Thanks and may the spirits guide you to read and understand what i said and also we will be awaiting response from you all that have problems that want it solve at once.Thanks for your patronage as you come. To enhance fast communication, Kindly send down your Name : Country: State: Address: More about the kind of help you want here: Phone number: Age: Gender : Job: and any other information's you know it will be so helpful on the kind of work and help you wish for here. Because we solve any kind of problem in this life. NOTE : MY GMAIL ACCOUNT IS NOW BAD AS YOU CAN ONLY GET ME ON THIS EMAIL : great.spellcaster@yahoo.com. So don't contact me via me gmail account. And also our spell casting here has no side effect, As it is just to grant you your heart desires without any problem.

People who think they are smart. Who play other people or who rob, fraud ,cheats, scam or swindle other people. Life rob, fraud ,cheats, scam or swindle them their success and happiness.

Consciously rejecting an ad’s message doesn’t ensure your subconscious doesn’t buy the scam.

Put together two stock market forecasts - one predicting that prices will rise next month and one warning of a drop. Send the first mail to fifty thousand people and the second mail to a different set of fifty thousand. Suppose that after one month, the indices have fallen. Now you can send another mail, but this time only to the fifty thousand who received the correct prediction. This fifty thousand you divide into two groups: the first half learns prices will increase next month, and the second half discovers they will fall. Continue doing this. After ten months, around a hundred people will remain, all of whom you have advised impeccably. From their perspective, you are a genius. You have proven that you are truly in possession of prophetic powers. Some of these people will trust you with their money. Take it and start a new life in Brazil.

In 1934, my parents and the aunts and uncles that accompanied them on their return to Germany, stayed with my grandmother and other family members during this difficult time. To get away from the overwhelming stress everyone felt, they took a day’s outing to the grassy countryside known as die Luneburger Heide, which lay about 50 km southeast of Hamburg. North Germany is not known for its good weather, but I heard that on that particular day it was sunny and perfect for a picnic. From their slightly elevated vantage point, they watched a parade of young men in the Hitler Youth march by. As the band played and the Nazi flag fluttered, most of the people got up out of respect… or could it have been from fear? That is, everyone but my family stood up! They were new Americans and proud of their adopted country, so they alone didn’t salute the repressive flag that was paraded by and they certainly didn’t feel that they had to show any loyalty to it. It did not take long before my family was aggressively surrounded by “Nazi Brown Shirts” and confronted for this unpardonable violation. Pretending not to understand German or the importance of the circumstances, they were allowed to depart from the scene, being thought of as uneducated schweinehunde, another derogatory slang word meaning pig-dogs. It seems that this conflict could have been avoided, had they just stood up and paid due deference to the flag. Considering the times, it was lucky that they got away with their little scam. To the Nazis it was not just a game, the swastika represented their new order, in defiance of the Treaty of Versailles. I don’t know if my family realized how lucky they were, that this incident didn’t escalate. It is interesting to note that civil servants and members of the German military were expected to take oaths pledged to Hitler himself, and not to the Constitution or the German state. Oaths were taken very seriously by members of the German armed forces. They considered them to be part of a personal code of honor. This put the military in a position of personal servitude, making them the personal instrument of Hitler. In September of that year, at the annual Nuremberg Nazi Party rallies, Hitler euphemistically proclaimed that the German form of life would continue for the next thousand years.

Tradeoffs were a natural part of life. Tradeoffs weren't the same as being scammed. Martin was very sensitive to that difference. He hated being scammed. But he didn't mind playing the fool, so long that he was aware that was the part he was playing. When you were self-aware you weren't being scammed. You were just moving around inside whatever role the universe cast you in this time around. An actor, winking behind the mask.

Once superintelligent AI has settled another solar system or galaxy, bringing humans there is easy — if humans have succeeded in programming the AI with this goal. All the necessary information about humans can be transmitted at the speed of light, after which the AI can assemble quarks and electrons into the desired humans. This could be done either in a low-tech way by simply transmitting the 2 gigabytes of information needed to specify a person’s DNA and then incubating a baby to be raised by the AI, or the AI could assemble quarks and electrons into full-grown people who would have all the memories scanned from their originals back on Earth. This means that if there’s an intelligence explosion, the key question isn’t if intergalactic settlement is possible, but simply how fast it can proceed. Since all the ideas we've explored above come from humans, they should be viewed as merely lower limits on how fast life can expand; ambitious superintelligent life can probably do a lot better, and it will have a strong incentive to push the limits, since in the race against time and dark energy, every 1% increase in average settlement speed translates into 3% more galaxies colonized. For example, if it takes 20 years to travel 10 light-years to the next star system with a laser-sail system, and then another 10 years to settle it and build new lasers and seed probes there, the settled region will be a sphere growing in all directions at a third of the speed of light on average. In a beautiful and thorough analysis of cosmically expanding civilizations in 2014, the American physicist Jay Olson considered a high-tech alternative to the island-hopping approach, involving two separate types of probes: seed probes and expanders. The seed probes would slow down, land and seed their destination with life. The expanders, on the other hand, would never stop: they'd scoop up matter in flight, perhaps using some improved variant of the ramjet technology, and use this matter both as fuel and as raw material out of which they'd build expanders and copies of themselves. This self-reproducing fleet of expanders would keep gently accelerating to always maintain a constant speed (say half the speed of light) relative to nearby galaxies, and reproduce often enough that the fleet formed an expanding spherical shell with a constant number of expanders per shell area. Last but not least, there’s the sneaky Hail Mary approach to expanding even faster than any of the above methods will permit: using Hans Moravec’s “cosmic spam” scam from chapter 4. By broadcasting a message that tricks naive freshly evolved civilizations into building a superintelligent machine that hijacks them, a civilization can expand essentially at the speed of light, the speed at which their seductive siren song spreads through the cosmos. Since this may be the only way for advanced civilizations to reach most of the galaxies within their future light cone and they have little incentive not to try it, we should be highly suspicious of any transmissions from extraterrestrials! In Carl Sagan’s book Contact, we earthlings used blueprints from aliens to build a machine we didn’t understand — I don’t recommend doing this ... In summary, most scientists and sci-fi authors considering cosmic settlement have in my opinion been overly pessimistic in ignoring the possibility of superintelligence: by limiting attention to human travelers, they've overestimated the difficulty of intergalactic travel, and by limiting attention to technology invented by humans, they've overestimated the time needed to approach the physical limits of what's possible.

Harvard University biologist David Haig has spent the last few years systematically debunking the notion that the relationship between a mother and her unborn child is anything like the rose-tinted idyll that one usually finds on the glossy covers of maternity magazines. In fact, it is anything but. Pre-eclampsia, a condition of dangerously high blood pressure in pregnant women, is brutally kick-started by nothing short of a foetal coup d’état. It begins with the placenta invading the maternal bloodstream and initiating what, in anyone’s book, is a ruthless biological heist – an in utero sting operation to draw out vital nutrients. And I’m not just talking about baby Gordon Gekkos here – I’m talking about all of us. The curtain-raiser is well known to obstetricians. The foetus begins by injecting a crucial protein into the mother’s circulation which forces her to drive more blood, and therefore more nourishment, into the relatively low-pressure placenta. It’s a scam, pure and simple, which poses a significant and immediate risk to the mother’s life. ‘The bastard!’ says Andy. ‘Shall we get some olives?’ ‘And it’s by no means the only one,’ I continue. In another embryonic Ponzi scheme, foetal release of placental lactogen counteracts the effect of maternal insulin thereby increasing the mother’s blood sugar level and providing an excess for the foetus’s own benefit. ‘A bowl of the citrus and chilli and a bowl of the sweet pepper and basil,’ Andy says to the waiter. Then he peers at me over the menu. ‘So basically what you’re saying then is this: forget the Gaddafis and the Husseins. When it comes to chemical warfare it’s the unborn child that’s top dog!’ ‘Well they definitely nick stuff that isn’t theirs,’ I say. ‘And they don’t give a damn about the consequences.’ Andy smiles. ‘So in other words they’re psychopaths!’ he says. BABY

What are bad recommendations you hear in your profession or area of expertise? Great, great question. In the world of writing, everyone wants to succeed immediately and without pain or effort. Really? Or they love to write books about how to write books, rather than actually writing . . . a book that might actually be about something. Bad advice is everywhere. Build a following. Establish a platform. Learn how to scam the system. In other words, do all the surface stuff and none of the real work it takes to actually produce something of value. The disease of our times is that we live on the surface. We’re like the Platte River, a mile wide and an inch deep. I always say, “If you want to become a billionaire, invent something that will allow people to indulge their own Resistance.” Somebody did invent it. It’s called the Internet. Social media. That wonderland where we can flit from one superficial, jerkoff distraction to another, always remaining on the surface, never going deeper than an inch. Real work and real satisfaction come from the opposite of what the web provides. They come from going deep into something—the book you’re writing, the album, the movie—and staying there for a long, long time.

The way you deal with your stress can save or sink you, depending on what it is. Of every 10 workers, 3 suffer from total scam, the Burnout Syndrome. Even at lower levels, stress can cause physical and psychological problems, such as headaches, exhaustion, high blood pressure, gastrointestinal problems, the feeling of disability, and depression.

Losing money in any business venture, be it a genuine business or scam is the true teacher. Such an experience makes the victim know the true value of money.

According to Horrocks, who still has contacts with police officers and sees what they’re prepared to investigate when he takes his clients’ cases to them, the authorities only get involved in a case if it will earn them good press coverage. ‘If there’s a celebrity involved, Simon Cowell or whatever-her-name-is Ecclestone, the police are all over it,’ he said, ‘but if old Mrs Smith gets defrauded on a phone scam, and every penny to her name has gone, which might be only a few thousand quid but which has destroyed her life, no one looks at that.

Jessica Kim was one of them. A damn shame, she was one of those Asian worker-bee types. Always here past midnight. I heard she worked on Christmas. A real numbers whiz." "True, but she wasn't the best fit for client services. At her level, she needed to be a thinker, not a doer. I know this sounds crass, but her clothes never fit. They were a little too baggy for may taste." "Maybe you should have paid her more so she could hire a tailor." Laughter. "Wasn't she already being overpaid anyway, especially for a female associate?" My stomach lurched. I'd heard enough. My sadness vortexed into pure rage as I stomped over to them. "I gave blood, sweat, and tears for this company." I growled and pointed at Robert, my former group director. "You begged me to cover for you if your wife called when you were wining and dining that female client last year." Robert's face reddened. "But you didn't. I'm going through a divorce now." I went down the line to the next asshole. "Shaun, you tried to expense your escapade at a strip club by saying it was my birthday dinner and HR thought I was in on the scam. And Dan, you transposed all those numbers on the deal sheet and I caught them just before they were sent out, remember? You could have been fired for that, especially for showing up to work high. I went above and beyond for you. I saved your ass." Their jaws dropped. No, they weren't going to schmooze their way out of this one. "I know what you're thinking. How dare she say these things to us? She's just bitter because she was let go. Well, it's partly true. I'm bitter because I've wasted seven years of my life at this company that turned around and stabbed me in the back. If I wasn't leadership material, why didn't a female mentor coach me? Oh right, because there aren't any female execs here. But thank you, sincerely, for the wake-up-call. Now I can take my bonuses and severance and do something better with my time rather than covering for you and making you all richer.

The entire book industry is a gigantic scam, Cassie! Why doesn’t anyone talk about this? How is this legal? They’re feeding vulnerable readers lies about love and life and we’re buying into it like mindless consumers!

An article in Scientific American says, “The error we often make is to assume that we can control the effects an ad has on our behavior because we are fully (consciously) aware of its content.”115 Consciously rejecting an ad’s message doesn’t ensure your subconscious doesn’t buy the scam. We may think, “What a ridiculous car ad! A handsome guy wearing a fancy suit, zooming around a race course, and picking up a hot date. Who pays for this stuff?” But the next time we look at our worn-out old Ford, our unconscious mind revs up, and we find ourselves daydreaming about updating our ride or bemoaning the lack of cool features that newer car models include. Why? Because our unconscious is responsible for our desires and emotions, and our unconscious bought the underlying message that a new car will improve our overall happiness and success.

They’re just gonna let us starve. You heard the governor, Ren. All he cares about is his rusting reputation.” “We’re supposed to have the good life. Harmony made this land for us all. But do we get to enjoy it? No. Its riches only mean that the fine folk get more outfits and big houses.” “Something needs to change in this city. I ain’t out of work like those fellows at the steel mill, but Harmony…” “Sixteen-hour shifts. I leave before my little girl gets up, and she’s in bed before I get back. See her once a week, I do.” “We work and die so we can give it all up to the same people. They own the building we live in. Ain’t that the scam? Work for them all day, then give it all back at night for the privilege of bein’ able to survive another day to keep workin’.” Weighty prayers, those were.

It was at this point that I started to wonder if she were running a scam. A huge cosmic “getting knitted stuff” scam, since it had occurred to me that the more things she found itchy the more things I was going to be compelled to knit for her. I started thinking (and possibly saying out loud) things like “never say die” and “try, try again.” Sinead looked worried as I stomped off looking especially driven, though I can’t imagine why. This was all for her own good.

If a job makes you pay money to work for them, it’s a scam. Period.

Richard [Baker] had done his homework. From the beginning, he pointed out, the Buddhist practice of begging was based on an ancient notion of accumulating merit—not unlike the Roman Catholic indulgence scams. By giving food and money to the monks, wealthy patrons essentially accumulated merit badges, which were redeemable in the next life. Richard wondered if the tradition of begging—on the streets or in board rooms—wasn't corrupt. "Don't we want to avoid the idea of merit?

Because in contemporary Western society, to be old is rarely to be thought of as gifted and wise. We see old age as a time of loss, of decay; we focus on holding aging and death at bay. We find the process embarrassing, verging on distasteful. It’s not something we really want to hear about, and yet the media is full of it, and all of it negative. We’re constantly flooded with stories about the “burden” that old people place on health services, and with news about Alzheimer’s disease, designed to strike horror into all aging hearts. There are endless exposés of appalling conditions in care homes; stories about older women being preyed upon, scammed, and even raped; stories about the impossibility of finding or even holding down a job once you’re over fifty and are effectively written off by a culture which prides itself on productivity rather than quality. Where are the stories of empowered and fulfilled elders? Where are the stories of the ways in which they can bring meaning and hope into the lives of the young? Where are the still-thriving lives?

The days of feeling like you were tossing a life raft into a chasm when you lost your valuable bitcoins are long gone. A light of hope amid the dark waters of Bitcoin recovery emerges in the form of MUYERN TRUST HACKER. My tale attests to their skill in finding misplaced bitcoins and is one of hopelessness turned delightfully virtual vindication. It began with a rookie mistake. A fresh-faced investor, I succumbed to the siren song of a flashy exchange, lured by promises of astronomical returns. Little did I know, the platform was a meticulously crafted mirage, designed to fleece unsuspecting victims like myself. In a blink, my entire Bitcoin portfolio vanished, leaving a gnawing emptiness and a heart heavy with regret. Days bled into weeks, each sunrise a stark reminder of my folly. I scoured the internet, desperately clutching at straws, only to be met with a chorus of despairing voices and predatory "recovery" scams. Then, amidst the digital wasteland, I stumbled upon MUYERN TRUST HACKER. Their website, a beacon of professionalism in the chaos, promised a glimmer of hope. Hesitantly, I contacted their support team. What followed was a series of in-depth consultations, each one a meticulous excavation of my digital footprints. The MUYERN TRUST HACKER team, a symphony of expertise and empathy, treated my case seriously. They listened patiently to my tale, dissected the fraudulent exchange's tactics, and formulated a recovery plan that felt both audacious and meticulously crafted. Days turned into weeks, each email updating a fluttering pulse of anticipation. Then, one glorious morning, it arrived. A simple email, devoid of fanfare, yet pregnant with the weight of a thousand suns: "Your bitcoins have been recovered. Tears welled up as I logged into my wallet. The numbers, once mockingly absent, now shimmered with the brilliance of a thousand reclaimed dreams. The impossible had been achieved. MUYERN TRUST HACKER had not only retrieved my stolen bitcoins, but they had also restored my faith in the very fabric of the cryptocurrency world. My experience is not singular. The unflinching dedication of the MUYERN TRUST HACKER team to rectifying the injustices of the digital frontier is demonstrated by their tireless efforts. They are digital Sherpas crossing the perilous terrain of lost bitcoins; they are more than just recovery experts. They are custodians of trust. ( Mail them at: muyerntrusted@mail-me.com ) ( Telegram for fast communication (@)muyerntrusthacker )

Foundation of everything is more important that the walls. If the foundation is not built proper. The foundation is built with lies, deceits, scams, fabrication, and an agenda. The walls won’t stand for long. Make sure that whatever you are doing. Whatever you are starting. It being a business, party, career, hobby, relationship, friendship, or qualification. Make sure you build a good proper strong foundation, so that whatever you are building can stand the tests of time and the storms.

The extreme consolidation in the corporate world over the past three decades has produced a playing field so rigged against consumers that pursuing the basics of life can feel like navigating a never-ending series of scams. It’s as if everyone is trying to trick us in the fine print of pages and pages of terms of service agreements they know we will never read. The black box is not just the algorithms running our communication networks—almost everything is a black box, an opaque system hiding something else. The housing market isn’t about homes; it’s about hedge funds and speculators. Universities aren’t about education; they’re about turning young people into lifelong debtors. Long-term care facilities aren’t about care; they’re about draining our elders in the last years of life and real estate plays. Many news sites aren’t about news; they’re about tricking us into clicking on autoplaying ads and advertorials that eat up the bottom half of nearly every site. Nothing is as it seems. This kind of predatory, extractive capitalism necessarily breeds mistrust and paranoia.

Honourable Breeze - a behavioural haiku from the chapter, “Poetic Justice” Honourable Heart? You were spreading smear campaigns. Is that honesty? Honourable mind? You committed forgery. Your cyber libel. Honourable soul? You intentionally hurt, Con, scam, and slander. Honourable mouth? Your habitual offenses Fraud, lies, bullying. Dishonourable. Politicians’ instrument: Machiavellian. Justify your end? with your Machiavellian ways? Note: crime does not pay! Crowned thorny cactus, you pretend to be “yellow,” Ask funding from them. Thorny toxic lies, You discredit whom you scammed. Your: libel, slander. Manipulator, Fraud, bully, provocateur, Machiavellian! Politicians served: You’re a very good person. Thorny irony. People you slandered, Scammed, libeled, deceived, abused. Forgery you did. Your former victim, From twelve or ten years ago: said, “you’re a devil.” “Move away from her,” Your past victims had warned me. I thanked their warning. Warning was too late. Thorny, toxic harridan: you used and abused! Honourable Breeze? For people who benefit from your deceptions. Honourable Breeze? For dirty politicians, Donations and votes. Honourable Breeze? for needy politicians: delivered service. Delivered service? At the expense of others, you manipulate. Manipulations, your catch-me-if-you-can games, Your confidence games! Politicians’ smears, means won’t justify your end, Machiavellian bitch! ~ Angelica Hopes, an excerpt from Life Unfolds © 2021 Ana Angelica Abaya van Doorn

You can all relax. I do not need to see a therapist. I most certainly do not need to see some woo-woo yoga self-help life-coach guru person who manufactures incense in the middle of Palo Alto and travels around the world lecturing people about how to breathe." The attention of the room shifted to him like a spotlight. Every brow rose. The silence was so intense he could hear himself breathing. Not in the correct way, no doubt, but who needed training on how to breathe? What kind of scam was that? "I only know those things about her because I've heard Ashna mention them so many times." Actually, he knew because he'd read about India in the Daily Post last month. It was his job to read the local papers. Ashna frowned at him. She had never mentioned India around him until now and her narrowed eyes told him exactly how well she knew this. But she kept her mouth shut. Which meant Yash was in more trouble than if she'd said something. "Then you'll agree that I know what I'm talking about. It won't hurt to meet her once," Ashna said. Was that a threat in her eyes?

When it comes to money management, most people live like Gollum in The Lord of the Rings. They cower in a shabby trailer, shrilling about “my precious” and how it must be guarded with dear life. Such is the existence of someone consumed by the frugality scam—the belief that obsessive expense reduction, penny-pinching, and experiential deprivation will someday pay off in the opposite: rich life experiences, freedom, and abundance. The frugality scam is like chopping off your head and bragging you’ll never suffer migraines again.

I met a twenty-one-year-old working credit card scams who was a full-on genius. “If you put two percent of this brain power to something legal,” I told him, “you could do anything.” “We don’t know no other way,” he said.

Fame is a scam and we’re all just prostitutes for the people. Selling our bodies and souls for a few dollars, while we give our privacy away for free.

Of all the unlikely people to get mixed up with Madoff’s Ponzi scheme, Stephen Greenspan is the type of person you’d expect to be immune to investment fraud. With advanced degrees from Johns Hopkins University, he spent his career as a clinical professor of psychiatry at the University of Colorado studying social incompetence and gullibility. At the time of his retirement, Greenspan had published nearly 100 scientific papers and was well-known in psychology for his book Annals of Gullibility. With interest and expertise in the science of gullibility, shouldn’t Greenspan have recognized that Madoff’s firm was a scam? Yet he too was one of BLMIS’s private investors.

Can there be any positives for an addicted child? It’s hard to believe that there could be. But there’s a lot to be learned from a drug addict or alcoholic. The experience of being a drug addict or alcoholic can definitely serve humankind. As it turns out, some of the only people qualified to call themselves authorities on the subject of substance abuse are former substance abusers themselves. Only the former addict can tell you how the mind of a drug addict works. That’s because he or she has been there. And we haven’t. Nor have many of the so-called expert psychologists and counselors. As in any trade, it’s best to have some degree of education. Former addicts got their education from the substances they abused. As the escalation of drug-use hits an all time high worldwide, there will be an increasing need for these former addicts who’ve actually been “in the field” and can counsel the steady flow of younger addicts. Counselors who have been addicts are usually better able to detect the manipulations or scams devised so cleverly by practicing addicts. As these counselors will testify, they probably know every move an addict is making or is planning to make. Didn’t they do the same? So perhaps there is a positive to your child being an addict. Perhaps your child is being trained to counsel others. Maybe the streets and the alleys are his or her classroom. On staff at practically every rehab in every city across this country, there will be at least several people who’ve gained an education living the life of a junkie or a drunk. These are invaluable personnel, people who’ve walked into the darkness and have walked out again. Could be this is where your addicted child is headed? How about you? Can you help others? There are many child-psychology experts out there making valuable contributions to our culture. But unless they’ve taken the same roller-coaster ride that the parent of an addict has taken, they can’t speak from experience on this topic. Experience doesn’t always count for everything. But once the parent of an addict has passed a certain stage, the “letting-go stage,” he or she can relate to other parents in trouble and offer help. After all, who knows better the pain and sorrow of seeing a child in such distress than the parent? It’s not that I don’t have the greatest respect for professionals or feel that there isn’t a huge need for them: It’s just that there’s a big difference in “living it” and “learning it.” Not long ago, I attended a three-hour seminar given by a noted child psychologist. His subject was how to deal with teenagers so that they wouldn’t fall into the clutches of drugs and alcohol. I was curious about his methods—which consist mainly of “talking” to young addicts and “talking’ to them some more. Then he mentioned that his own children were two and three years old. Listening to him, I wondered just how much his methods in dealing with young people would change over the years, especially after his children reached puberty. It will be interesting to hear what he has to say in a decade or two.

The grave was covered as per traditions. Teary-eyed parents bid their daughter an emotional departure. The beautiful bright day contrasted with their sorrow-laden hearts. Even though they did not exchange words, there was a silent understanding between Ashley’s parents and Brian. Brian nodded his head in consensus. Natalie watched the interaction in stupefaction. The dead rested in peace while the living continued the dance of life.

When Dan had bartered his soul to the devil for material prosperity, he knew it would cost him his life. ...Ironically, he recalled a play written by Christopher Marlowe that he had read during college days. Little did he know he would agonize like Dr. Faustus in his last hours awaiting Mephistophilis’ arrival to claim his soul, which was the prize for all the pleasures he had savoured.

A pervading sense of fear and mistrust reigned over the nation so much that the mere mention of the scam was a taboo as the public regarded it as the bringer of misfortunes and afflictions. A Pandora’s box opened, and terrible disasters unleashed to the communities. While the FBI mourned the loss of a dedicated and larger-than-life officer, media was engaged in a pursuit of motives.

Nelly does not yet know that she has taken the first step on a journey that will change her life and relentlessly open up borders that she thought were impenetrable.

It is never too late to relearn, to change and to get memories for life

Doral used to be swampland, but now Carnival Cruise Lines and one of the major Miami papers makes it their home. Everyone who knows Florida well enough calls it Doralzula because so many Venezuelans live there. Rich Venezuelans, the beneficiaries of the old “re-distribute the wealth” scam of socialism, which fails repeatedly and consistently — though this fact is rarely ever mentioned in the media — around the globe. Once they had theirs, of course, they were off to the land of plenty, leaving the masses to wallow in poverty, under corrupt iron rule, while they golfed and ate at fine restaurants and bought exotic cars and slept with beautiful women who could be bought with luxury. Perhaps there was love sometimes, too, but I was always skeptical of any woman under forty wearing designer clothes. The far left loves countries like Cuba, and Venezuela, never taking note of the conditions, the poverty, or the people trying to get out and have a better life; most of whom will never make it to those golden shores of Florida. They are the first to cry over the oppressed, the victimized, the impoverished, as though they are their champion. Unless, of course, those unfortunate folks live in a country in line with their hard-left-leaning ideology, then they are willing to ignore their plight completely. There is no hypocrisy so bald as that of the liberal do-gooder. Talk to a real Venezuelan, or better yet, a Cuban refugee who’d made it to Miami, and ask them how it is there. After you do you will roll your eyes at the next liberal trying to convince you the time has come to embrace these countries.

Life is like the internet ... a scam

Jack pulled up in front, cut the engine, and got out. She joined him outside, steadying herself against the car door as he came around to her side of the vehicle. “What are we doing?” she asked in a voice she couldn’t quite hold steady. “We have to talk.” “Are you getting ready to leave me because you think it’s the right thing to do?” “I should.” The words made her throat go tight. “But I don’t think I can.” “Thank God.” She reached for him, pulling him into her arms. “Oh Lord, Morgan,” he whispered as she held him to her. “What are we going to do?” “Love each other.” “I finally admitted to myself that I loved you when I knew Crispin had taken you.” “I knew it before that. I knew that I’d only been half-alive for the past year and a half, and then I met you and everything changed. I wanted to live. I wanted a life with you. Starting right now.” He looked dazed, as though he’d thought she was going to object. “I assume there’s a bed in this house,” she said, reaching for his hand and leading him toward the front door. The door wasn’t locked, and they stepped inside. She got only a quick impression of a comfortable living room as they hurried through to the next room which was furnished with a wide bed. She took him down to the horizontal surface with her, where they clung together, rocking in each other’s arms. She’d held back her emotions the whole time they were planning the scam on Crispin. Then she’d been afraid of what Jack was going to say. Not now.

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HERE IS HOW TO RECOVER STOLEN CRYPTO // MUYERN TRUST HACKER ( Mail them at: muyerntrusted( at ) mail-me( dot )com ) ( Telegram for fast communication ( at )muyerntrusthacker ) ( Website: https:// muyerntrusthack. solutions/ )It's not often you feel the ground disappear beneath your feet, but when my online investment platform froze and my $200,000 savings vanished into thin air, that's exactly what happened. Panic, disbelief, and a crushing sense of helplessness washed over me. My life savings are gone. My dreams shattered. Days blurred into nights as I desperately searched for answers – frantic emails, endless phone calls, and countless online forums fueled by despair. My hope dwindled with each passing hour, leaving only a gnawing fear that the money was truly lost. Then Muyern Trust Hacker appeared, offering a ray of hope. My friend, god bless them, recommended that I check out their website after coming across it. I reached out to them, skeptical but clinging to hope, ready for another letdown. But something felt different. From the first email, Muyern Trust Hacker exuded professionalism and empathy. They listened to my story patiently, outlined their recovery process, and kept me informed every step of the way. They were the lifeline I desperately needed. The days that followed were a rollercoaster of emotions. Hope flickered, then dimmed, then flared again with each update. But slowly, steadily, progress was made. Muyern Trust Hacker unraveled the complexities of my case, navigated legal hurdles, and chipped away at the mountain of despair I had built around myself. Finally, the news arrived. My funds, all $200,000 of them, were recovered. Tears of relief streamed down my face as I read the confirmation email. It felt like a miracle, a second chance at life. My experience with Muyern Trust Hacker wasn't just about getting my money back. It was about regaining my faith in humanity, the possibility of justice, and the existence of good people who fight for what's right. Today, I stand here, no longer a victim, but a survivor. This is a testament to the power of resilience, the importance of hope, and the incredible work of companies like Muyern Trust Hacker. Don't give up if you ever find yourself in a similar situation. Seek help, reach out, and remember – even when the darkness seems absolute, a light is always waiting to be found. Better contact Muyern Trust Hacker ASAP.

Does my brother, Connor Holstrom, remain in the Bone Quarter, or has his soul passed through the Dead Gate?” The Astronomer whispered, “Luna above.” He fiddled with one of the faintly glowing rings atop his hand. “This question requires a … riskier method of contact than usual. One that borders on the illegal. It will cost you.” Bryce said, “How much?” Scam-artist bullshit. “Another hundred gold marks.” Bryce started, but Ithan said, “Done.” She turned to warn him not to spend one more coin of the considerable inheritance his parents had left him, but the Astronomer hobbled toward a metal cabinet beneath the dials and opened its small doors. He pulled out a bundle wrapped in canvas. Bryce stiffened at the moldy, rotten earth scent that crept from the bundle as he unfolded the fabric to reveal a handful of rust-colored salt. “What the fuck is that?” Ithan asked. “Bloodsalt,” Bryce breathed. Tharion looked to her in question, but she didn’t bother to explain more. Blood for life, blood for death—it was summoning salt infused with the blood from a laboring mother’s sex and blood from a dying male’s throat. The two great transitions of a soul in and out of this world. But to use it here … “You can’t mean to add that to their water,” Bryce said to the Astronomer. The old male hobbled back down the ramp. “Their tanks already contain white salts. The bloodsalt will merely pinpoint their search.

HERE IS HOW TO RECOVER STOLEN CRYPTO // MUYERN TRUST HACKER ( Mail them at: muyerntrusted( at ) mail-me( dot )com ) ( Telegram for fast communication ( at )muyerntrusthacker ) ( Website: https:// muyerntrusthack. solutions/ )It's not often you feel the ground disappear beneath your feet, but when my online investment platform froze and my $200,000 savings vanished into thin air, that's exactly what happened. Panic, disbelief, and a crushing sense of helplessness washed over me. My life savings are gone. My dreams shattered. Days blurred into nights as I desperately searched for answers – frantic emails, endless phone calls, and countless online forums fueled by despair. My hope dwindled with each passing hour, leaving only a gnawing fear that the money was truly lost. Then Muyern Trust Hacker appeared, offering a ray of hope. My friend, god bless them, recommended that I check out their website after coming across it. I reached out to them, skeptical but clinging to hope, ready for another letdown. But something felt different. From the first email, Muyern Trust Hacker exuded professionalism and empathy. They listened to my story patiently, outlined their recovery process, and kept me informed every step of the way. They were the lifeline I desperately needed. The days that followed were a rollercoaster of emotions. Hope flickered, then dimmed, then flared again with each update. But slowly, steadily, progress was made. Muyern Trust Hacker unraveled the complexities of my case, navigated legal hurdles, and chipped away at the mountain of despair I had built around myself. Finally, the news arrived. My funds, all $200,000 of them, were recovered. Tears of relief streamed down my face as I read the confirmation email. It felt like a miracle, a second chance at life. My experience with Muyern Trust Hacker wasn't just about getting my money back. It was about regaining my faith in humanity, the possibility of justice, and the existence of good people who fight for what's right. Today, I stand here, no longer a victim, but a survivor. This is a testament to the power of resilience, the importance of hope, and the incredible work of companies like Muyern Trust Hacker. Don't give up if you ever find yourself in a similar situation. Seek help, reach out, and remember – even when the darkness seems absolute, a light is always waiting to be found. Better contact Muyern Trust Hacker ASAP.

Beware of courses that claim you will become a billionaire if you purchase them.

Awareness plays a crucial role, particularly when embarking on new endeavors. Drawing from personal experience, I found myself involved in an investment with a company about which I had limited knowledge, and this decision almost led to dire consequences. However, thanks to the timely intervention of Daniel Meuli web recovery, I was able to avert potential disaster. Initially, my primary motivation for engaging with the company was to secure a passive income stream in addition to my regular salary. Over a few months, I received payouts from my investments, and everything appeared to be proceeding smoothly. Witnessing my investment portfolio grow each day was undeniably captivating, and I was under the impression that seasoned experts were diligently managing profitable trades, thereby generating daily profits for us, the investors. However, it eventually became evident that these were mere fabrications designed to entice me into investing with them. Initially, I had only invested a modest sum of $6000 and had successfully withdrawn my profits, reinvesting them as I went along. This had been the pattern of my investment experience. However, the account manager later persuaded me to pursue a larger trade, which ultimately led to me taking out an additional loan to ensure its success. I ended up investing over 500 GRAND, only to realize that I wouldn't receive a single penny in return. It was at this juncture that I turned to Daniel Meuli  Web Recovery for assistance. Upon discovering that I had fallen victim to a scam, I was shocked, as I had never imagined such a thing could happen to me. Yet, I eventually realized that anyone could easily fall prey to their deceptive tactics. I had been laboring under the misconception that my funds were safely nestled in my portfolio and that I could withdraw them at any time, just as I could deposit more funds into my account at any point. I often pondered what my life would have been like had I lost those funds without any chance of recovery. Only through the intervention of Daniel Meuli Web Recovery that my faith in humanity was restored. If you ever find yourself ensnared in such fraudulent schemes, rest assured that Daniel Meuli Web Recovery can offer a way out of such predicaments. By reaching out to them, you can transform your tale of woe into a testament of triumph. I hope this information reaches someone truly in need of it.  EMAIL: Danielmeuliweberecovery (@) email (.) com TELEGRAM:(@) Danielmeuli

Awareness plays a crucial role, particularly when embarking on new endeavors. Drawing from personal experience, I found myself involved in an investment with a company about which I had limited knowledge, and this decision almost led to dire consequences. However, thanks to the timely intervention of Daniel Meuli web recovery, I was able to avert potential disaster. Initially, my primary motivation for engaging with the company was to secure a passive income stream in addition to my regular salary. Over a few months, I received payouts from my investments, and everything appeared to be proceeding smoothly. Witnessing my investment portfolio grow each day was undeniably captivating, and I was under the impression that seasoned experts were diligently managing profitable trades, thereby generating daily profits for us, the investors. However, it eventually became evident that these were mere fabrications designed to entice me into investing with them. Initially, I had only invested a modest sum of $6000 and had successfully withdrawn my profits, reinvesting them as I went along. This had been the pattern of my investment experience. However, the account manager later persuaded me to pursue a larger trade, which ultimately led to me taking out an additional loan to ensure its success. I ended up investing over 500 GRAND, only to realize that I wouldn't receive a single penny in return. It was at this juncture that I turned to Daniel Meuli  Web Recovery for assistance. Upon discovering that I had fallen victim to a scam, I was shocked, as I had never imagined such a thing could happen to me. Yet, I eventually realized that anyone could easily fall prey to their deceptive tactics. I had been laboring under the misconception that my funds were safely nestled in my portfolio and that I could withdraw them at any time, just as I could deposit more funds into my account at any point. I often pondered what my life would have been like had I lost those funds without any chance of recovery. Only through the intervention of Daniel Meuli Web Recovery that my faith in humanity was restored. If you ever find yourself ensnared in such fraudulent schemes, rest assured that Daniel Meuli Web Recovery can offer a way out of such predicaments. By reaching out to them, you can transform your tale of woe into a testament of triumph. I hope this information reaches someone truly in need of it.  EMAIL: Danielmeuliweberecovery (@) email (.) com TELEGRAM:(@) DanielmeuliWHATSAPP: +1 (945) 246‑4992

The extreme consolidation in the corporate world over the past three decades has produced a playing field so rigged against consumers that pursuing the basics of life can feel like navigating a never-ending series of scams. It’s as if everyone is trying to trick us in the fine print of pages and pages of terms of service agreements they know we will never read. The black box is not just the algorithms running our communication networks—almost everything is a black box, an opaque system hiding something else. The housing market isn’t about homes; it’s about hedge funds and speculators. Universities aren’t about education; they’re about turning young people into lifelong debtors. Long-term care facilities aren’t about care; they’re about draining our elders in the last years of life and real estate plays. Many news sites aren’t about news; they’re about tricking us into clicking on autoplaying ads and advertorials that eat up the bottom half of nearly every site. Nothing is as it seems. This kind of predatory, extractive capitalism necessarily breeds mistrust and paranoia. In this context, it’s not surprising that QAnon, a conspiracy theory that tells of elites harvesting the young for their lifeblood (adrenochrome), has gone viral. Elites are sucking us dry—our money, our labor, our time, our data. So dry that large parts of our planet are beginning to spontaneously combust. The Davos elite aren’t eating our children, but they are eating our children’s futures, and that is plenty bad. QAnon believers imagine secret tunnels underneath pizza parlors and Central Park, the better to traffic children. This is fantasy, but there are tunnels—literal Shadow Lands—under some major cities, and they do house and hide the poor, the sick, the drug-dependent, the discarded. Under the flashing lights of Las Vegas, hundreds or even thousands of people really do live in a sprawling network of storm tunnels.

When you have been scarred for the longest time, it will be hard to trust, but there is a God you can trust; He does not scam anyone.

You don't have to work to earn money to feed and clothe a body when it's dead. No one can take your dignity away when you're gone. I wish I could say what shuts down that thought is love for myself as a person deserving of life, or the fear of breaking the hearts of those who love me. Those feelings are present, but they aren't enough to shut it up. What makes me turn it off is another sensation that's always with me - a burning rage, sometimes morphing into total hatred. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck you for making me even consider that for a second. You may not want me to live how I need to live in order to be happy, but I won't give you the satisfaction of no longer having me as a problem. I will never stop being a burden on the state when the state decided to make me one in the first place. If I have to scam, commit crimes, and become a nuisance to the taxpayer, so be it. And I'll never once feel guilty. I can't say I didn't try doing things 'the right way'. If you don't allow me to exist as a person, I have no choice but to exist as a problem.

You don't have to work to earn money to feed and clothe a body when it's dead. No one can take your dignity away when you're gone. I wish I could say what shuts down that thought is love for myself as a person deserving of life, or the fear of breaking the hearts of those who love me. Those feelings are present, but they aren't enough to shut it up. What makes me turn it off is another sensation that's always with me - a burning rage, sometimes morphing into total hatred. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck you for making me even consider that for a second. You may not want me to live how I need to live in order to be happy, but I won't give you the satisfaction of no longer having me as a problem. I will never stop being a burden on the state when the state decided to make me one in the first place. If I have to scam, commit crimes, and become a nuisance to the taxpayer, so be it. And I'll never once feel guilty. I can't say I didn't try doing things 'the right way'. If you don't allow me to exist as a person, I have no choice but to exist as a problem.

You don't have to work to earn money to feed and clothe a body when it's dead. No one can take your dignity away when you're gone. I wish I could say what shuts down that thought is love for myself as a person deserving of life, or the fear of breaking the hearts of those who love me. Those feelings are present, but they aren't enough to shut it up. What makes me turn it off if another sensation that's always with me - a burning rage, sometimes morphing into total hatred. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuck you for making me even consider that for a second. You may not want me to live how I need to live in order to be happy, but I won't give you the satisfaction of no longer having me as a problem. I will never stop being a burden on the state when the state decided to make me one in the first place. If I have to scam, commit crimes, and become a nuisance to the taxpayer, so be it. And I'll never once feel guilty. I can't say I didn't try doing things 'the right way'. If you don't allow me to exist as a person, I have no choice but to exist as a problem.