Monday, July 30, 2012

Tales from the boiler room - Bramwell & Kent

This is just to add more Google bait to help warn people about this sorry bunch of losers.

So, Mrs. B. gets a call from a plausible American lady wondering about acquiring a small amount of stock she held from where she worked 15 years ago. A second call raises suspicions. And then they tried calling me, hoping that hubby would pursuade the little woman if a large enough number was dangled in front of him.

Could I fetch a pen and paper, the chap identifying himself as John Boston asked. Now in this day and age, that means fire up [text editor of choice] on the laptop currently in use for casual surfing.

The patter moves on to there having been an implausibly large forward stock split. So let's have a look at the historical price -- and feel some regret that we didn't cash out 4 years ago when the stock was worth 20 times what it is today. But importantly, explcitly stated as having no splits. Ask for the dates of the splits, and this is clearly off patter as the bullshit comes out.

Point out that this would be public knowledge, or else the company directors would be getting their collars felt by the filth for trying cute stock manipulation shit like that. Get dates, and there are clearly no steps in the historical price -- so, if as is custom, there had been splits, and the pre-split prices are recorded at the appropriate fraction, that would have meant a peak price of over $1000, which you don't get because it hits the liquidity of your stock.

He then suggests an offer price in the 10-20 times current market rate per share. Now 500-1000 times face value goes so far beyond being too good to be true that it comes out the other side and breaks through into absolutely fucking batshit insane. While he's going into the spiel about having to post an insurance advance on the deal, I'm looking up his outfit.

Unremarkable corporatese web-site, but no links-to on the first page of Google, until we get to a list of previous aliases for the same bunch of boiler-room clowns.

So, I tell him he can eat shit and die, and hang up. Remarkably, he calls straight back, so I have to ask what part of the injunction that he should consume excrement and thereby perish he did not understand. The next time, I pick up, hear his voice and just leave the handset on the table until he gives up, which seems to have gotten the point through.

Unsurprisingly, there seems to be no evidence for the existence of this outfit outside of its web-site, especially not in the Lehman Building where they claim a street address.

So, if you happen to be Col. Gaddhafi's widow with some Swiss accounts to shift, or are selling penis extension supplements, I think you should let the dickless wonders at, and domain name registrant know, because they are sure to be interested in your business.

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