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The day I decided to create my own wealth.


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T'other day I was fishing down the Wye. I fish for barbel. It's a lovely fish. Beautifully designed, powerful, a joy to hook and one of the thickest species in the River. I've gazed into this creatures eyes in the hope of learning more about how it thinks and I can tell you all that the barbel is probably the most unintelligent fish I've ever stared at, and I've done my fair share of gazing into the eyes of fish. In fact, I'd urge you all not to repeat my mistake. For two hours after this encounter I couldn't think of anything. My mind was blank. I'd crossed over you see. I'd gone to far. I'd looked into the eyes of this creature and I'd come out of this experience a very different fisherman than I was before I landed the bloody thing and stupidly looked into its eyes and became entranced by its strange and bewitching hypnotic stare.

Anyway, after I'd recovered from this bloody barbel's influence, I rolled a ***, threw back a generous swig of beer and as I sat there muttering, 'I'd love to eat a few insects', I noticed an object on the side of the river bank. It was a wage packet and it was sealed. I'd found a wage packet. Some fool had actually lost his wages and I had found them.

Mind, then I was presented with a dillema. Had he lost his wages or had he decided he didn't want them and simply threw them away?. Being an honest sort, I knew that I should hand this wage packet to the Police for safe keeping. But, if, as I suspected he didn't want his wages and he'd chosen to throw them away, who was I to question his intentions.

It was at this point that I decided to change my life and create my own wealth. Convinced that this fool didn't want his wages and he would have become angry with me for handing them into the Police, I decided to have what was inside the envelope.

I stood up, had a quick peep to see whether or not I was being watched, I opened these wages that this fool clearly didn't want and following an examination of its contents, I screamed, 'The lazy basta.r.d! He had four days off'.Good Lord!

It was at this point I decided that from hereon, I'd forget about lost wage packets, betting on uncertain outcomes and writing begging letters and instead, I'd acquire a Metal Detector.

Im going to become a person who sweeps fields and other similar open spaces to find and appropriate precious and semi precious metals. Having given this a lot of thought Ive decided that I'll be damned if I spend days wandering about digging up old pram wheels and unwanted and discarded bottle tops. Im after Gold and Silver and there is a switch on my Metal Detector that excluded all these unwanted finds allowing me to only detect Gold and Silver.

They found the Staffordshire hoard didn't they? Well, Im convinced there is a Hereford hoard and Im going to find it. It's out there and anyone who says it isn't is a bloody fool and someone who ain't interested in becoming fabulously wealthy.

Mind, I ain't just going to tip up in some field, start sweeping, muttering, 'where in Gods name is it?' Im going to concentrate on areas where the bloody Saxons have stayed and perhaps buried their trinkets of gold and silver. I'll be bloody damned if I spend unnecessary hours looking for something that ain't there because the bloody Saxons had never been there in the first place.

No, Im going to follow the evidence. I'm going to sweep areas that are known to have had the Saxons there. If I get told by some passer bye, 'the Saxons were never here', then that's good enough for me and I'll go elsewhere. I mean, there'd be no point looking in an area where the Saxons had never been.

I want to know where the Saxons have been so that I can find the Herefordshire hoard. Mind, if some fool comes on here and responds to this codswallop and says, 'I know where the Saxons were staying and I know where they buried their hoard, Im going to be thinking, 'hi up! If he knows where it is, why hasn't he dug it up already'.

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There's nothing that gets my working week off on such a happy high, as reading a healthy dose of your codswallop!

I have no idea what ingredients you're using in your hand rolled ciggies, but whatever it is, patent it and sell it to us ! We could all do with a little more drivel and tripe in our lives!

It makes turning on my computer a worthwhile task!

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Being an honest sort, I knew that I should hand this wage packet to the Police for safe keeping



I'm not surprised in the slightest bobby..... 




Honest builder who handed nearly £18,000 in cash to police after finding it in a burnt-out property will not see a penny of it despite officers failing to trace its origins 
  • Steven Fletcher found the hoard of 'neatly bundled' £20 notes in a metal box 
  • The money was forfeited under the Proceeds of Crime Act
  • Mr Fletcher challenged the decision at the High Court but it was upheld 
  • He left the court with only a tribute to his honesty from the judge


Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2487553/Builder-handed-nearly-18k-unclaimed-cash-police-wont-penny.html#ixzz2lfmg7dcj 


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There is a Saxon family living in my village , husband ,wife and 2 children . I will ask them where they have travelled and rested along the highways of this fine County and advise you via email. Do not want a stampede , picture the scene ,it will be like the Alaskan Gold Rush .

As Dippy said - please keep up the high standard of your cods wallop on a regular basis . From what Biomech posted it appears that you made the correct decision - think ,legally , all you had to do was look around and say " has anybody lost their wage packet" No reply and it's your lucky day.

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Good on yer, King Bobby: creating your own Soverign Wealth Fund.  Bet you'll go about it in slightly more financially-ethical ways than Royal Bastards of Scotland, who seem to think that pulling the overdraft plug on vulnerable small businesses and sending them to the wall, is a ready-made receipe for collecting cheap assets! 


You say you're going for silver or gold, eschewing the possible industrial-archaeological future value of such things as Asda shopping trolleys.  You could be right.  But can I just put you onto one potential source of an un-excavated Saxon hoard?  Saxon Hall, Bullingham: that rather uninspiring giant brick s**** house which the developers of the Saxon Gate housing were forced to put up under one of those S106 so-called 'agreements'.  Know it?  At first glance looks 21st century, doesn't it?  Brick walls, plastic windows, tiled roof.  I'm something of a self-taught architectural historian and I can tell you, mate, that that hall is pure Saxon.  Original.  I'd stake my life on it.


So what with it being so close to the Wye and what with the Wye (eventually) leading to the sea, my theory is that there's a huge Saxon hoard buried under that building.  Probably right in the middle where that expensive wood strip dance floor is.  So what you want to do is this.  Wait til the locals hold a knees-up one Saturday evening, go along at locking-up time and bung the caretaker a £2 coin to let you stay the night.  Then after he's gone, remove from beneath your old gran's frock the pickaxe you've got secreted about your person and dig the floor up.  The whole lot!  And I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you don't find a Saxon longboat buried underneath, positively laden with gold goblets and gold necklaces and thousands and thousands of gold coins.  And at the prow of the boat you should find a life-size effigy of Zsar Zsra Gabor, 'cause its a little known fact that the Saxon warriors venerated Zsar Zsar.  Let me know if you want a hand; I'm quite good with a shovel.

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Gridknocker, You say you'll stake your life on it! Well if I burst into the place dressed in this tattered frock armed with my Detector, a pick, a shovel and a trailer waiting outside to transport this boat and the Hereford Hoard away and I find some family sat on their sofa eating their tea watching Deal or no bloody Deal, you will pay with your life.

Mind, this bloody boat. What are its dimensions. I mean, how big did these Saxons build their bloody boats. Some might say, 'who bloody cares.' Well I do. Im the one inside the place. Im the one doing all the digging and Im the one who gets bloody taser'ed when the Constable arrives to find me thrashing about thirty feet beneath the surface screaming, 'My God, this bloody boat is huge'.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful. Far from it but why did these Saxons insist on burying their wealth and their bloody boats. I mean, if I suddenly went outside, dug a bloody hole and buried me Ford Focus and all me valuables, the bloody neighbours would be straight on the phone complaining and I for one wouldn't blame them.

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What are strange group these Saxons were. Odd if you ask me. It seems they arrived here from Germany and brought with them this unusual cultural practice of burying anything that came into their possession. It's no wonder they didn't hang about to long. I mean, this bloody boat for example. They must have felled a field of trees, spent bloody ages chipping away at the timbers and then, after they'd created this vessel, the leader of the tribe then said, 'lovely job lads. Well done all. Now bury the thing'.

Imagine some young Saxon lad scurrying into the village after finding a golden sword encrusted with gem stones and being told, 'it's a lovely sword. Never seen a better one. Now get yourself outside and bury it.'

And 'we' are their descendants! Makes you think doesn't it? Maybe that's why we fly tip, but nowadays we can't be bloody bothered to dig a hole, we just dump it on somebody else's skip. I had a skip at my house a few months ago. I was intent upon ridding myself of all me bloody rubbish. All the stuff I couldn't flog at the Car Boot sale. The following day I went outside and two bloody mattresses were inside the skip. Perhaps if the giver of these two mattresses had dug a hole and buried them like the Saxons I wouldn't have had the problem of getting rid of their gift to me.

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