Werkit launched her attempt to become the modern Typhoid Mary by posting an ad on the Facebook group Find a Pox Party in Your Area peddling a "fresh batch of pox in Nashville shipping of suckers, spit, and Q-Tips available tomorrow 50 dollars via PayPal." Before you rush to have a stranger mail you spit, you should know that her operation was quickly shut down. It turns out it's illegal to mail viruses, as anyone who follows the news, stops to think for 10 seconds, or doesn't have a raccoon nest where their brain should be knows.

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"Don't look at me, pal; I thought it was dumb, too."

She told the local news that the idea came when she realized that parents were frustrated because "they can't get [chicken pox] the normal way anymore." No shit -- they're called vaccines, Wendy. It's the same reason you can no longer get rich quick selling polio braces and plague carts.

Now, unless you're content with having your breasts stuffed full of shredded newspaper and dog hair in a Tijuana back alley, a new cup size doesn't come cheap. The 27-year-old realized that she'd need some serious cash, so she concocted what could generously be called a plan. Telling friends, family, and her boss that she had breast cancer and needed reconstructive surgery, Toler organized fundraisers and a donation site, raking in eight grand to pay for her "mastectomy" and implants.

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It takes a lot to make your "pay for boobs" site dishonest by Internet standards.

Sure, she probably felt a little guilty that the money didn't go to people who actually have cancer, but would those patients even want to live in a world where Jamie Lynn's breasts weren't bigger?

Sadly, things went south when Toler declined a doctor's offer of a free mastectomy, and also when she discovered that it's actually kind of tricky to fake having cancer. Paying the plastic surgeon in cash didn't help, and given what we know of her, she probably handed it over in a sack with a dollar sign on it. Toler was arrested, charged with fraud and theft, and sentenced to a year in jail followed by three years on probation, during which she presumably won't be allowed to use her new breasts.

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"In my defense, Your Honor, check out these ta-tas."

If only she had known that it's much easier to fund your implants by flat-out asking creepy guys on the Internet to give you money.

North Carolina resident James Verone had no money, no job, and some serious medical problems, including "a growth of some sort on his chest, two ruptured disks, and a problem with his left foot." When your diagnosis is so vague that you could be growing anything from a wart to the stomach monster from Total Recall, you need medical care fast. Verone decided that the best place to get it would be in jail.

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They skipped that part in The Shawshank Redemption.

In 2011, the 59-year-old walked into a bank and handed the teller a note demanding the sum of $1. After establishing that this was a robbery and not a request to borrow money so he could grab a Kit-Kat from the vending machine, the teller called the police. Verone waited patiently for them to arrive, knowing that any villain worth his salt these days gets caught on purpose as part of his evil scheme.

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Telling the cops they've fallen into your scheme, however, seems like an invitation to police brutality.

In this case, going to jail was the lynchpin of Verone's retirement plan -- he needed a way to fix his physical woes and keep a roof over his head for three years before he could start collecting Social Security. Describing himself as a "logical-type person" in the worst self-assessment this side of online dating profiles, Verone even consulted a real estate agent as part of his pre-theft preparations. His dream was to put his Social Security money toward a condo on Myrtle Beach -- all that was standing between him and his little slice of paradise was three years in the clink.

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Then it's time to sit back, enjoy the fruits of your labor, and have flashback panics whenever you drop a bar of soap.

Unfortunately, a problem emerged when Verone was given the lesser charge of larceny instead of bank robbery, because it doesn't count as a bank job if you could have gotten more money from hitting the local lemonade stand. Verone responded by trying to bribe the judge with five bucks and a Quiznos coupon, hopefully.

Obviously they could only stuff a pillow up Mathews' shirt for so long before people got suspicious, which is where a pregnant friend came in. In a true display of friendship, their pal gave them urine to fake pregnancy tests. The couple also doctored ultrasound images and assumed fake identities, because nobody would suspect that Sarah Notascammer wasn't on the level.

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"Here's your new daughter! You should know, she's REALLY lazy."

What they weren't able to fake was an actual birth. When no baby emerged after nine months, people started to suspect that the whole deal wasn't quite kosher. Investigators eventually determined that the pair were part of a larger fake adoption ring that defrauded over 20 couples in several states, and also that Mathews and Smith were terrible at long-term planning. They got 27 months in prison and had to pay restitution, which seems like a lot to go through considering that they could have just had a damn baby and still turned a profit.

Crump, who at 69 should have already retired to spend her days annoying waitresses at IHOP, took out insurance policies on people who were either fake or already six feet under. Tragically, these people soon "died," and Crump and her accomplices billed insurance companies for funeral and burial costs. They managed to make about $315,000 before the companies began to wonder if she was the Angel of Death.

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"I came for the money; I stayed for the clothes."

When investigators started sniffing around, Crump and Co. tried to cover up their shenanigans with all the batshit ingenuity of people who thought this scam made any sense in the first place. Lacking actual bodies, they dug up the casket of supposed dead man Jim Davis and filled it with a mannequin and cow parts. (Worst Garfield comic ever.) They wanted to make the casket weigh enough to quell the suspicions of crematory employees -- why this required dead cow bits instead of literally anything else is unknowable. After Davis was cremated, he was then "buried at sea," which we assume is a polite way of saying that Crump flushed cow ash down the toilet.

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And yet she still paid for a bagpiper to play "Amazing Grace."

Crump would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for a meddling doctor and would-be accomplice who was acting as an informant for the FBI. Crump was sentenced to a year and a half in the clink, although we'd like to think she tried to fake her own death to get out of it.

Shakespeare once asked, "What's in a name?" Centuries later, Terri Ilagan decided that the answer was a marketing opportunity worth $15,199.

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"A rose by any other name would still not smell as sweet as 15 large."

In 2005, Golden Palace Casino paid the 33-year-old Tennessean to change her name to GoldenPalace.com after she put her moniker up for auction on eBay. "I was driving one day and I told my husband, I don't think anyone's tried to sell their name on eBay yet," she said. "So I put it up for auction and I got all kind of responses within 24 hours of it being listed." Note the lack of a pause to consider that there might be a good reason nobody had tried that.

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Because your entire life starts to sound like your spam folder?

Most people would be wary of sharing a naming convention with the society from Idiocracy, but the mother of five says she sold her name to help support her family. There was no word on what selling her dignity, the respect of her friends and loved ones, and the chance of ever being taken seriously by society again netted her. Her children now call her Goldie, because that way they can pretend their mom is named after Goldie Hawn instead of a website for people who think the fun of gambling comes from sitting alone in a dark computer room.

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"This is fun, but is there somewhere I can turn out the lights and weep quietly into my Mountain Dew?"

Now, turning yourself into a living advertisement is one thing, but subjecting a poor, helpless baby to a corporate branding is a whole different ballgame. Just a few months after Mrs. DotCom's stunt, the same casino paid a couple $15,000 to name their son "GoldenPalace.com Silverman." Golden Palace's CEO congratulated the proud new parents/terrible human beings, saying, "We wish them and their beautiful baby boy all the best." "Because, oh man, he's going to need it. That poor kid's going to get the shit bullied out of him. You better hope that 15 grand is enough to cover his counseling bills, suckers," was implied. It's an even greater shame when you realize that Cracked.com Silverman sounds way better.

Related Reading: Oh yes, fund-raising gets worse than this. The name 9/11 Dove shoot ought to be proof enough of that. And did you know some schools have started selling ad space on their buses? If all this talk of terrible causes has your wallet lubed up, why not help Cobra commander raise $94 billion?

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