I
used to make loads of money by pretending to be an expert in alternative medicine. It started off in '96 when my position in my old organisation was abolished and I had to leave. I'd been involved in some pretty dodgy stuff there anyway and I think that had something to do with it, I'd made a killing but I think people had got wind that something wasn't quite right (not going to tell you what I did here I'm afraid, some of it still hasn't come to light ;) )

Losing the job was a big kick to my confidence and I ended up letting my beard and hair grow and just getting in a proper state. I couldn't carry on living in my huge old house and had to move into the suburbs. On top of all this I heard that the police were looking for me in relation to stuff that I'd done in my last work so I had to keep my head low and not have any contact with my mates or family.

I did a degree in psychology back in the day but a fat lot of good that did me now I was out of work, I could count the number of jobs in the job office needing a psychology degree on the fingers of a clumsy cook with leprosy. It ended up coming in useful though when I heard of people getting rich selling homeopathic remedies and other bollocks on some message board I frequented. I made up my own "product" and started to hawk it around markets and stuff using the letters after my name for a bit of legitimacy and I was raking money in.

I started taking it a bit more seriously when I realised there was actually quite a lot of money in it and got in with the whole community who believed it all. Started writing articles for one of the magazines about "human quantum energy" and "life force" and other such definitely true things. It was a good laugh really, decent money and I liked having all these people look up to me as some kind of leader. I also started up a website selling all my remedies so I didn't have to spend the time traipsing round the markets any more.

Anyway it all came to a head when someone who I'd known at my old work recognised me, and shopped me in to the police. They come bursting in in the middle of the night and I'm left in a cell, awaiting trial.
Still, it could be worse, I could be a Bosnian Croat.

Signed
Radovan Karadžić
(Hippo_of_Doom, Sat 2 Aug 2008, 4:15, Reply)