Topic: Buy a fraction of my soul in BTC! - page 2. (Read 6853 times)
Am I allowed to crosspost this outside of the Newbie forum, in Securities under Marketplace?
Is this what the typical bitcoin user look like? If so I am definitely barking up the wrong tree. On the plus side, it looks like our young generation is going to manage financially well after all. That myth of us passing down our debt to our children is now busted.
Maria 2.0
PS. Go to church Kid
I really do not care for your patronizing tone. I am an atheist, I detest church.Maria 2.0
PS. Go to church Kid
How do we know you are not a ginger?
LMFAO !! CANT STOP LAUGHING !!
Is this what the typical bitcoin user look like? If so I am definitely barking up the wrong tree. On the plus side, it looks like our young generation is going to manage financially well after all. That myth of us passing down our debt to our children is now busted.
Maria 2.0
PS. Go to church Kid
I really do not care for your patronizing tone. I am an atheist, I detest church. Maria 2.0
PS. Go to church Kid
How do we know that you're not a lost soul? 
I assure you, I'm not.What's your karma like?
I'm not perfect, but I'm certainly a good person, with good ideals.How do we know you are not a ginger?
Here is photograph of self.http://i50.tinypic.com/2ef24cn.jpg
As you can see, I have fair brown hair. There is no trace of the ginger gene in my genome.
Is this what the typical bitcoin user look like? If so I am definitely barking up the wrong tree. On the plus side, it looks like our young generation is going to manage financially well after all. That myth of us passing down our debt to our children is now busted.
Maria 2.0
PS. Go to church Kid
So what exactly is a unit of your soul? I want to bask in your early childhood innocence, not bear witness to hundreds of hours smacking it to internet porn. I don't just want some random part, I want the tasty parts.
A unit is a variable fraction of my soul. Its value is constant based on how much you assign it, but the actual percentage of my soul it represents changes over time depending on the total value of all units bought. The percentage of my soul you own is the value of the unit you own as a percentage of the total value of all units bought.You are buying a fraction of my soul in all moments of time, you do not get a specific section of it at a specific time.
What about .001 of the coin?
You want to make an offer for 0.001 BTC?Someone needs to come up with jobs for kids under 16 to do online...give them something to do!
Is this not a viable, innovative venture?If you wish to buy my soul, you buy a unit of it, for whatever price you like.
Are you an idiot? A soul is undivisible.
Here is photograph of self.
http://i50.tinypic.com/2ef24cn.jpg
As you can see, I have fair brown hair. There is no trace of the ginger gene in my genome.
No timestamp
I understand your concerns, but I genuinely believe a soul is just overglorified conciousness. I'm doing this both for the money and for the ideological demonstration that a person can still be morally, intellectually and cognitively fulfilled without a soul, which I shall explain if this comes back to haunt me.
Then, why should I buy your useless soul?
My offer is 10 satoshis.
No, there is not a time stamp. The photo, however, is fairly recent. While I have no proof, i assure you of it.
My soul may not be considered useless to others, just to me from an ideological perspective.
As for your offer, I shall pm you an address as soon as I get on my laptop.
Oh man, you don't wanna do this!
I remember the day I've sold my soul to some tanned guy with a perfect (almost shining) white teeth and curly black hair darker than the dark at the bottom of the deepest well you've ever seen.
It was a rainy day in Boston (surprisingly). My first day in the city and one of my first days in the US altogether. I've decided goin' out hittin' some bars would be my best shot if I really wanted to get to know the city - its people, its spirit. I could go on and on, talking about how much fun I've had solely listening to the locals' funny accent (like one guy tellin' his buddy he's lost his "kha-kis", explained here: http://[Suspicious link removed]/10cC7SI )
So anyway, I ended up in this bar right next to the Bank of America Pavilion. Could smell the sea in the air, hear the flock of seagulls (luckily enough not the terrible 80's band, but actual seagulls) and the whiskey wasn't bad either.
To cut a long story short, it was almost 4am and after a long night spent in a lot of local bars, I've inevitably run out of cash. That's when I was innerly reconciled with the fact my night was over and I should head back to my hotel room.
No, not that night! I swear I could smell sulphur when I suddenly saw this slippery guy standing right next to me. Little did I know it was the Devil himself! Offering me one last shot of anything I please on his own tap if I sell him my soul. Of course I accepted, I've never thought soul could possibly have any monetary value, it's just some imaginary thing, right? Bollocks! He didn't even need any nice-lookin' certificate like you're offering, he just made me say out loud some words in latin I don't remember anymore. And that was the moment when I lost my soul for good.
Not only did I puke and couldn't eat anything for the next 2 days, suffering from terrible headaches and insomnia. My gf broke up with me because I was supposedly dancing and flirting with other girls that night (I don't remember doin' that, nor would I ever have, I'm not that kind of a guy. Must have been the Devil's work, dammit!).
I've also had a car accident on my way back to NYC only to find my appartment was robbed while I was gone. My whole life just started to spiral downwards and now I see you tryin' to sell your soul for pretty much the same price I did (one shot of Jack Daniels). The least I can do is warn you...
While I find your story highly entertaining, I am comfortable in my decision.I remember the day I've sold my soul to some tanned guy with a perfect (almost shining) white teeth and curly black hair darker than the dark at the bottom of the deepest well you've ever seen.
It was a rainy day in Boston (surprisingly). My first day in the city and one of my first days in the US altogether. I've decided goin' out hittin' some bars would be my best shot if I really wanted to get to know the city - its people, its spirit. I could go on and on, talking about how much fun I've had solely listening to the locals' funny accent (like one guy tellin' his buddy he's lost his "kha-kis", explained here: http://[Suspicious link removed]/10cC7SI )
So anyway, I ended up in this bar right next to the Bank of America Pavilion. Could smell the sea in the air, hear the flock of seagulls (luckily enough not the terrible 80's band, but actual seagulls) and the whiskey wasn't bad either.
To cut a long story short, it was almost 4am and after a long night spent in a lot of local bars, I've inevitably run out of cash. That's when I was innerly reconciled with the fact my night was over and I should head back to my hotel room.
No, not that night! I swear I could smell sulphur when I suddenly saw this slippery guy standing right next to me. Little did I know it was the Devil himself! Offering me one last shot of anything I please on his own tap if I sell him my soul. Of course I accepted, I've never thought soul could possibly have any monetary value, it's just some imaginary thing, right? Bollocks! He didn't even need any nice-lookin' certificate like you're offering, he just made me say out loud some words in latin I don't remember anymore. And that was the moment when I lost my soul for good.
Not only did I puke and couldn't eat anything for the next 2 days, suffering from terrible headaches and insomnia. My gf broke up with me because I was supposedly dancing and flirting with other girls that night (I don't remember doin' that, nor would I ever have, I'm not that kind of a guy. Must have been the Devil's work, dammit!).
I've also had a car accident on my way back to NYC only to find my appartment was robbed while I was gone. My whole life just started to spiral downwards and now I see you tryin' to sell your soul for pretty much the same price I did (one shot of Jack Daniels). The least I can do is warn you...
Sell me your
Or your
Or even your
But not interested in your soul.
But I'll take a
Or your
Or even your
But not interested in your soul.
But I'll take a
Someone needs to come up with jobs for kids under 16 to do online...give them something to do!
Runescape mining
Oh man, you don't wanna do this!
I remember the day I've sold my soul to some tanned guy with a perfect (almost shining) white teeth and curly black hair darker than the dark at the bottom of the deepest well you've ever seen.
It was a rainy day in Boston (surprisingly). My first day in the city and one of my first days in the US altogether. I've decided goin' out hittin' some bars would be my best shot if I really wanted to get to know the city - its people, its spirit. I could go on and on, talking about how much fun I've had solely listening to the locals' funny accent (like one guy tellin' his buddy he's lost his "kha-kis", explained here: http://[Suspicious link removed]/10cC7SI )
So anyway, I ended up in this bar right next to the Bank of America Pavilion. Could smell the sea in the air, hear the flock of seagulls (luckily enough not the terrible 80's band, but actual seagulls) and the whiskey wasn't bad either.
To cut a long story short, it was almost 4am and after a long night spent in a lot of local bars, I've inevitably run out of cash. That's when I was innerly reconciled with the fact my night was over and I should head back to my hotel room.
No, not that night! I swear I could smell sulphur when I suddenly saw this slippery guy standing right next to me. Little did I know it was the Devil himself! Offering me one last shot of anything I please on his own tap if I sell him my soul. Of course I accepted, I've never thought soul could possibly have any monetary value, it's just some imaginary thing, right? Bollocks! He didn't even need any nice-lookin' certificate like you're offering, he just made me say out loud some words in latin I don't remember anymore. And that was the moment when I lost my soul for good.
Not only did I puke and couldn't eat anything for the next 2 days, suffering from terrible headaches and insomnia. My gf broke up with me because I was supposedly dancing and flirting with other girls that night (I don't remember doin' that, nor would I ever have, I'm not that kind of a guy. Must have been the Devil's work, dammit!).
I've also had a car accident on my way back to NYC only to find my appartment was robbed while I was gone. My whole life just started to spiral downwards and now I see you tryin' to sell your soul for pretty much the same price I did (one shot of Jack Daniels). The least I can do is warn you...
I remember the day I've sold my soul to some tanned guy with a perfect (almost shining) white teeth and curly black hair darker than the dark at the bottom of the deepest well you've ever seen.
It was a rainy day in Boston (surprisingly). My first day in the city and one of my first days in the US altogether. I've decided goin' out hittin' some bars would be my best shot if I really wanted to get to know the city - its people, its spirit. I could go on and on, talking about how much fun I've had solely listening to the locals' funny accent (like one guy tellin' his buddy he's lost his "kha-kis", explained here: http://[Suspicious link removed]/10cC7SI )
So anyway, I ended up in this bar right next to the Bank of America Pavilion. Could smell the sea in the air, hear the flock of seagulls (luckily enough not the terrible 80's band, but actual seagulls) and the whiskey wasn't bad either.
To cut a long story short, it was almost 4am and after a long night spent in a lot of local bars, I've inevitably run out of cash. That's when I was innerly reconciled with the fact my night was over and I should head back to my hotel room.
No, not that night! I swear I could smell sulphur when I suddenly saw this slippery guy standing right next to me. Little did I know it was the Devil himself! Offering me one last shot of anything I please on his own tap if I sell him my soul. Of course I accepted, I've never thought soul could possibly have any monetary value, it's just some imaginary thing, right? Bollocks! He didn't even need any nice-lookin' certificate like you're offering, he just made me say out loud some words in latin I don't remember anymore. And that was the moment when I lost my soul for good.
Not only did I puke and couldn't eat anything for the next 2 days, suffering from terrible headaches and insomnia. My gf broke up with me because I was supposedly dancing and flirting with other girls that night (I don't remember doin' that, nor would I ever have, I'm not that kind of a guy. Must have been the Devil's work, dammit!).
I've also had a car accident on my way back to NYC only to find my appartment was robbed while I was gone. My whole life just started to spiral downwards and now I see you tryin' to sell your soul for pretty much the same price I did (one shot of Jack Daniels). The least I can do is warn you...
If you wish to buy my soul, you buy a unit of it, for whatever price you like.
Are you an idiot? A soul is undivisible.
Here is photograph of self.
As you can see, I have fair brown hair. There is no trace of the ginger gene in my genome.
No timestamp
I understand your concerns, but I genuinely believe a soul is just overglorified conciousness. I'm doing this both for the money and for the ideological demonstration that a person can still be morally, intellectually and cognitively fulfilled without a soul, which I shall explain if this comes back to haunt me.
Then, why should I buy your useless soul?
My offer is 10 satoshis.
Someone needs to come up with jobs for kids under 16 to do online...give them something to do!
What about .001 of the coin?
So what exactly is a unit of your soul? I want to bask in your early childhood innocence, not bear witness to hundreds of hours smacking it to internet porn. I don't just want some random part, I want the tasty parts.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bart_Sells_His_Soul
Quote
Bart attempts to get his soul back from Milhouse, who refuses to return it for less than $50. That night, Bart has a nightmare about being the only child in Springfield who does not have a soul. Lisa taunts Bart with a dinnertime prayer leading him to make a desperate, all-out attempt to get the piece of paper back. Bart crosses town to where Milhouse and his parents are staying with his grandmother while their house is being fumigated. The visit turns out to be fruitless; Milhouse had traded the paper to Comic Book Guy at the Android's Dungeon. A frustrated Bart spends the rest of the night camped out in front of the Android's Dungeon in order to be at the shop when it opens.
No offers till now so i bid 0.0005 btc
Kid...please be careful..this is probably one of those things that you will look back on in a few years and DEEPLY regret.
(as a parent if I found out my kid was doing this....)
(as a parent if I found out my kid was doing this....)
Fraction? I'm selling my WHOLE soul. Make an offer.
When's the sell by date for you soul? Everything has a sell by date 
How do we know that you haven't already sold it to the devil?
No double spending allowed here!
No double spending allowed here!
Are you an alcoholic? Your nose looks like you're an alcoholic. Will your soul drink all of my good and expensive wines?
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