Marcus Schrenker Speaks (From Prison)

Speaking of flying, the money manager/swindler discusses the time he faked his own death, and the events leading up to it (apparently he got home for dinner and his wife had only set out four plates and that’s when he knew “it was all over” because “the fifth plate was always mine”).

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12 Responses to “Marcus Schrenker Speaks (From Prison)”

  1. kung fu grip says:

    The guy’s a freaking sociopath – Wifey should have hit him over the head with plates 1-5 and saved us the agony of seeing this asshole resurface.

  2. Anonymous says:

    “This website has been reported as unsafe

    We recommend that you do not continue to this website.
    Go to my home page instead

    This website has been reported to Microsoft for containing threats to your computer that might reveal personal or financial information. ”

    Bess, this shit is hopeless.

  3. Anonymous says:

    yeesh thats a bad sunburn

  4. Bess Levin says:

    @2 I informed the Breaking Media Brain Trust (BMBT) and the thing that was causing that has been removed.

  5. Anonymous says:

    “wife only set out three plates…fifth plate was always mine.” With math like that people should have caught on sooner.

    – H. Markopolous

  6. Anonymous says:

    is his wife available to date?

  7. Wtf, Bess. All your base are belong to us.

  8. Anonymous says:

    Bess – please put me in touch with the BMBT. I also have this “virus” issue, although non computer-related. They seem fairly adept at getting rid of them quickly, so I was thinking . . .

  9. creditquant says:

    that’s why you don’t date gold diggers.

    Also I never quite understood that picture – why would you pose with a Lexus most people buy after they retirement (my parents included)? AARP sticks don’t exactly scream cash money.

  10. creditquant says:


  11. Anonymous says:

    the wife looks like bridget marquardt…

  12. @8 – I’m thinking STDs, I’m thinking endownments, I’m thinking Itchiko is alone at home on a Friday afternoon, I’m thinking where’s my damn Benz…