Ailurophilia is the “love of cats.”

More Cat Facts

Jacques HnizdovskyCat Nap, 1979, woodcut.


Welcome to the world of Scambaiting!

Hook, Line, Sinker (How I fell for a phishing ...
Image by ToastyKen via Flickr

Does somebody want to transfer millions of dollars into your account?
Does someone want you pay you to cash cheques and send them the money?
Met a new friend/penpal on a friendship/dating site who’s asking you for money?
Has a dying person contacted you wanting your help to give his money to charity?
Have you sold an item and are asked to accept a payment larger than the item amount?


Don’t fall for common scams like this – fight them!

So what is scambaiting? Well, put simply, you enter into a dialogue with scammers, simply to waste their time and resources. Whilst you are doing this, you will be helping to keep the scammers away from real potential victims and screwing around with the minds of deserving thieves.

It doesn’t matter if you are new to this sport or a hardened veteran; if you are wasting the time of a scammer, or frustrating them in any way well that’s good enough for us, and we would welcome you to join with our now very large community.

Although this site concentrates mainly on the Nigerian 419 scam, we are happy to deal with other types of scams if and when the opportunity arises. We also have a large team of experts dedicated to the removal and closure of fake scammer banks and sites.

Even if you are a newcomer, much fun can be had and at the same time you will be doing a public service. If you are new to this game and need to know what scambaiting is all about, please click on the 419 FAQ link at the top of the page. See also Baiting Tips for information on getting started on this great cyber-sport 

We encourage everyone to contribute to this site and the good cause of scambaiting by joining in the fun on the FORUM where you can meet new friends and seek expert help, tips and advice on anti-scamming. User participation is absolutely encouraged. Please help us to raise awareness the world over!

Do not be fooled into thinking scammers operate from a specific part of the world. Advance fee fraud scammers are a world-wide menace, and they operate from every continent. These scammers range from small one-man-band criminals scamming a few thousand dollars a year, to highly organised groups raking in hundreds of thousands of dollars a month. {Via}

Edward Lear? Yeah, he was a very funny man!

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!’ {Read on}

Perfect Moment? “If God Wanted You To Be Happy Every Day, He Would Have Made You A Game Show Host.”

I was seeing this girl I met in highschool. She was the first girl I’ve ever decided “that girl is cute, cool and interesting. I’m going to try and make something of it.” We just went on a date and I was dropping her off at home. It was raining but I got out to walk her in. She stopped me on her driveway, turned, and kissed me. It was pouring rain and the moment our lips met lightning struck. Real close like so the flash and the sound were almost spot-on. It felt like something out of a movie. One of the most perfect moments of my life.


The day I married my wife I felt invincible. I suffer from massive stage fright and on my wedding day I stood and spoke for 15 minutes in front of 150 people and it felt amazing. I have never felt such content who with whom I am as I did on my wedding day.


I had just finished the first date with the girl who would end up being the love of my life. We had spent a long evening in a deserted student lounge (sketchy, I know) cuddling and talking. It was 2am; I walked her to the streetcar that would take her home. Just before she got on, she turned around and met my eyes; she put her hands on my chest, stood on her tiptoes and whispered “I had a really great time tonight.” She then kissed me and ran onto the streetcar to escape the cold.

As the streetcar pulled away and left me standing on a totally silent street, I remember feeling the most incredible sense of PEACE I have since encountered – almost like wearing a warm blanket around your shoulders. I walked home in the cold smiling like an idiot.

That was 5 years and 26 days ago. This time next year we will be married. And I will NEVER forget that moment.


One day, I was lost in the city. I didn’t have my phone so I couldn’t call my parents or anyone else to ask how I was getting home. This was about two years ago so I was really only 13 and didn’t know my way around the city at that time. I was feeling really depressed at that time and had no idea what to do.

After a long period of thoughts filled with anxiety and sadness, my mind started to open up. I began to really start thinking.

I looked at all the people in the city walking. Everybody had their own unique way of walking. Some people were listening to music and therefore walked to the beat of the music, but of course even that changed with the different types of music they were listening to. Some people were walking in step with their friends and acquaintances. Some people in a hurry walked considerably fast. I walked slow.

I started to think about how each person had there own individual story. I was truly fascinated by all this, even more fascinated than an LSD user would be if they looked in a mirror. I thought about the opening lyrics to the Nine Inch Nails song “All the Love in the World.” ['Watching all the insects march a long, seem to know just right where they belong']. Everybody had a place to be. There were so many people each with their own story.

I started to picture words attached to each person. I kept on adding more words, stupid and random words such as “This guy drank one time at a party and regretted it.” Each person had so many words attached to them. But these words were more words than I could ever create.

I suddenly had a simple epiphany: people are complex. It is impossible to attach a few words to someone and have those words describe exactly, or mark the boundaries of, the character of that person.

Everybody I saw in the city was complex. I fully understood that there were other people in this world. Many people.

After realizing this, I felt absolutely content.


I dropped acid at university with a girl I was truly in love with. It was a sunny summer afternoon and we walked through a field of wheat till we were looking over some water. And we stared at each other as we peaked and cartoon animations of love filled my peripheral vision. Red hearts and growing roses grew and were replaced as my mind tried to express the perfection of the moment through the drug.

That was my moment.


I have a Best Day too and a Best Weekend and a best week and a best month and a best year. But that was my best moment for sure.

A year and a half ago, I took a bike ride along a fire road, which runs on the top of a ridge. It was foggy. I found a small trail leading into the bushes, towards a nearby lake. I deposited my bicycle in a shrub and took the trail, which lead to a small overlook.

For the ten minutes I sat there, everything was utterly quiet. Wisps of fog drifted across the trees, to the sides and in front. A light breeze was blowing. Occasionally a bird chirped. For the most part of the ten minutes I sat there, it was completely and utterly silent. No cars, no airplanes, nothing except my breathing. I think that that is the best place I’ve ever been, and the happiest and most peaceful too.


The situation was all sorts of wrong. It was a girl I met a few years back. We click. I go abroad for a year, she gets a man, I come back, she’s unhappy with her man and we fool around. I go abroad again for a year, I return for good, we meet up, she’s still with her same man and still unhappy. We say fuck it, consummate the mountain of sexual tension that’s been building up over the years, and it’s pretty fantastic.

Afterwards, I’m laying next to her, out of breath, perspiring in the thick of summer, blanketed in body heat, holding hands. And despite all the social contracts we broke and stigmas we incurred, and knowing it wasn’t going to work, it felt so good laying there next to her. I was content and I could feel she was too, even if it was only in that bubble.

We didn’t last long, saw each other for a month and I called it quits, at least the sex aspect (different wants). Shortly thereafter, she broke it off with her man. I’d like to think I played a (positive) role in it, but I think she reached it herself, and I’m glad she did. She was immediately happier with her freedom.

But it was a nice moment.

Prank – A bizarre piece of performance art.

DYK: During the early years of The Simpsons, a popular recurring gag involved Bart making prank calls to Moe’s Tavern, inspired by the Tube Bar prank calls. The calls usually followed a set pattern: Bart would ask for a person, Moe would shout loudly for the person Bart asked for, and Moe would catch on only after the bar (usually) erupts in uproarious laughter, also threatening violent revenge upon catching the perpetrator (“You little S.O.B.! Why, when I find out who you are, I’m going to shove a sausage down your throat and stick starving dogs in your butt!”).

“People” for whom Bart have asked include:

* I.P. Freely (I pee freely)
* Jacques Strappe (Jock strap)
* Ivanna Tinkle (I wanna tinkle)
* Amanda Huggenkiss (A man to hug and kiss)
* Hugh Jass (Huge Ass)
* Al Koholic (Alcoholic)]
* Mike Rotch (My Crotch)



In three words I can sum up everything I learned about life – It goes on. ~ Robert Frost.

Bronzed Memories
Image by ecstaticist via Flickr

A bloke from the bush walked into a Sydney curio/antique shop. After looking around for a while, he noticed a very life-like bronze statue of a rat. It had no price tag, but it was so striking that he decided to buy it anyway.

He took it to the owner and said: ‘How much is this bronze rat?’

The owner replied: ‘It’s $12 for the rat, and $100 for the story.’

The fellow gave the owner his $12 and said: ‘I’ll just take the rat, you can keep the story!’

As he walked off down the street, he noticed that a few real rats had crawled out of the drains and begun following him. This was a little disconcerting, so he started to walk a little faster, but within a couple of blocks the swarm of rats had grown to hundreds, and they were all squealing and screeching in a very menacing way.

He increased his speed and ran on towards Sydney Harbour and as he ran,he looked behind him and saw the rats now numbered in their MILLIONS, and they were running faster and faster.By now very concerned, he ran down to the pier and threw the bronze rat as far out into the water as he could. Amazingly, the millions of real rats jumped into the water after it … and were all drowned.

The man walked back to relate all this to the shop owner, who said,’Ah, you’ve come back for the story then?’

‘Shit no!’ said the bloke, ‘I came back to see if you’ve got a bronze Muslim, a couple of Asians, a Poof,a New Zealander, anything Aboriginal and an Indian spin bowler…’

Go ahead and make fun of Dog owners. But watch your back, or they may snap at you!

A man wrote a letter to a small hotel in a Midwest town he planned to visit on his vacation.

He wrote: I would very much like to bring my dog with me. He is well-groomed and very well behaved. Would you be willing to permit me to keep him in my room with me at night?”

An immediate reply came from the hotel owner, who wrote:

“I’ve been operating this hotel for many years. In all that time, I’ve never had a dog steal towels, bedclothes, silverware or pictures off the walls. I’ve never had to evict a dog in the middle of the night for being drunk and disorderly. And I’ve never had a dog run out on a hotel bill. Yes, indeed, your dog is welcome at my hotel. And, if your dog will vouch for you, you’re welcome to stay here, too.”

What’s he saying?

There is too much funny going on here for just one caption to capture. Well let’s see… the Italian PM looks like he is checking out Michell. Barak looks like he wants to pop his jaw. Michell is throwing her hand out to keep the creepy looking PM at a distance.

“Hey Meessus Obama, How you doin”?

Oh! and one more thing…

too much

Italians wear wonderful suits.

Tomorrows headline : “Pic taken just moments before Obama punched Berlusconi in the face today”

Dude, you are so far out of touch with reality that I think you should get psychiatrist’s help.

Dr. Murray Banks, "How to Live with Yours...

A group of psychiatrists were attending a convention. Four of them decided to leave, and walked out together.

One said to the other three, “People are always coming to us with their guilt and fears, but we have no one that we can go to when we have problems.” The others agreed.

Then one said, “Since we are all professionals, why don’t we take some time right now to hear each other out?” The other three agreed.

The first then confessed, “I have an uncontrollable desire to kill my patients.”

The second psychiatrist said, “I love expensive things and so I find ways to cheat my patients out of their money whenever I can so I can buy the things I want.”

The third followed with, “I’m involved with selling drugs and often get my patients to sell them for me.”

The fourth psychiatrist then confessed, “I know I’m not supposed to, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep a secret…

Golf is harder than baseball. In golf, you have to play your foul balls.

Eight Iron Off the seventh tee, Joe sliced his shot deep into a wooded ravine. He took his eight iron and clambered down the embankment in search of his lost ball.

After many long minutes of hacking at the underbrush, he spotted something glistening in the leaves. As he drew nearer, he discovered that it was an eight iron in the hands of a skeleton!

Joe immediately called out to his friend, “Jack, I’ve got trouble down here!”

“What’s the matter?” Jack asked from the edge of the ravine.

“Bring me my wedge,” Joe shouted. “You can’t get out of here with an eight iron.

A schoolteacher was taking her first golfing lesson.

“Is the word spelled p-u-t or p-u-t-t?” she asked the instructor.

“P-u-t-t is correct,” he replied.

“Put means to place a thing where you want it. Putt means merely a vain attempt to do the same thing.”

The owner of a golf course was confused about paying an invoice, so he decided to ask his secretary for some mathematical help. He called her into his office and said, ‘You graduated from the University of Tennessee and I need some help. If I were to give you $20,000, minus 14%, how much would you take off?’

The secretary thought a moment, and then replied, ‘Everything but my earrings.’


My five-year-old nephew wanted to caddy for my brother’s golf game. “You have to count my strokes,” my brother told him. “How much is six plus nine plus eight?” “Five,” answered the nephew. “Okay,” my brother said, “let’s go.”

Golf can best be defined as an endless series of tragedies obscured by the occasional miracle, followed by a good bottle of beer.

Golf! You hit down to make the ball go up. You swing left and the ball goes right. The lowest score wins. And on top of that, the winner buys the drinks.

If you find you do not mind playing golf in the rain, the snow, even during a hurricane, here’s a valuable tip: your life is in trouble.

Golfers who try to make everything perfect before taking the shot rarely make a perfect shot.

The term ‘mulligan’ is really a contraction of the phrase ‘maul it again.’

A ‘gimme’ can best be defined as an agreement between two golfers …neither of whom can putt very well.

An interesting thing about golf is that no matter how badly you play; it is always possible to get worse.

Golf’s a hard game to figure. One day you’ll go out and slice it and shank it, hit into all the traps and miss every green. The next day you go out and for no reason at all you really stink.

If your best shots are the practice swing and the ‘gimme putt’, you might wish to reconsider  this game.

Golf is the only sport where the most feared opponent is you.

Golf is like marriage: If you take yourself too seriously it won’t work, and both are expensive.

The best wood in most amateurs’ bags is the pencil.

Scratch Golfer Two women were put together as partners in the club tournament and met on the putting green for the first time. After introductions, the first golfer asked, “What’s your handicap?”
“Oh, I’m a scratch golfer,” the other replied.

“Really!” exclaimed the first woman suitably impressed that she was paired up with her.
“Yes, I write down all my good scores and scratch out the bad ones!”



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