Zero to Hero

The 24-year-old clerk at the liquor store felt that I was attacking his ego so he decided to reveal to me his cryptocurrency gains. Just before he did so he said it would be going against what his parents had advised to him which was to never tell people how much money you have. I guess he couldn’t help himself.

He checks for the balance on his phone while I play a guessing game in my head. If I had to bet I would wager that he has $50,000 on the high end and $20,000 on the low end.

“$90,000 Canadian dollars, he says.”

“Holy shit,” I say.

You could sense the ego boost I gave him. Six months ago I remember him telling me that his goal was to save up $10,000 which meant he didn’t even have $10,000 six months ago. How this story ends is something to be seen but in my estimation he did the right thing. His paltry liquor store earnings were never going to do anything for him besides comfortably afford him potato chips and a 6-packs of new underwear. As comforting as carbohydrates and brand new cotton are, they provide no enhancement for your future. Four months ago, I advised him to work more hours and put the extra money in cryptocurrency, not because I thought it was such a great idea but because there was nothing else he was willing to do including getting his driver’s license. He refused to work additional hours but I guess it’s okay given he’s up a shit ton anyway.

Some of his friends of the same age have made more than him by going balls to the wall during this crypto craze. At 24 years old with 6 digits worth of money they all probably have a 24/7 boner for life. History would dictate that this ends badly. If so they’re going to have to deal with an extended period of flaccidity. I’ve tried to convince him to take some out but he’s reluctant, believing his asset will for sure double in a few months because he, “has a good feeling.”

I guess we’ll see what happens.

When I was 24 years old I had shit all. I was unemployed surviving off a few thousand dollars of savings while I explored the world of photography. If I had closer to $100,000 I can tell you that I might not be thinking of going back to a job but I didn’t have $100,000 so I don’t know how I would have felt. When you’re 24 years old with $100,000 there are doors in the foreseeable horizon that can open for you.

For example, if invested for 15 years while also adding $500 a month at a compound annual rate of 10% you will have over $600,000. If someone put that in my head at 24 which probably no one would have but if someone had, I might have found the motivation to at least find $500 a month that I could tuck away knowing that I could be in bonerland in 15 years.

If you increase the duration to 30 years you will have accumulated $2,731,904. This would greatly decrease the likelihood of killing yourself. Base case scenario you would be king of the lazy bugs. I’ve presented this idea to my young friend to ponder. At the moment though he’s gripped by the euphoria of cryptocurrency gains so I don’t know how he will approach his next moves. My last bit of advice for him for that night was, “DO NOT…FUCK…THIS…UP.”

Pet Project

Just a few weeks ago I began bringing my dog along with me to see the old guy who I shop groceries for. Not surprisingly he likes my dog immensely.

Some comments from him:

“Please, bring her over every time.”

“I fell in love with her the first time I laid eyes on her.”

Every time before we leave he says, “Bye Beauty. Love you.”

I’m not sure how my dog feels about him hugging and kissing her. I doubt she likes it but she needs to fulfill a purpose in this short life of hers. While he was torturing my dog with what he thinks is love, I thought of asking him if he wanted a photo with her which he happily agreed to. Later that day I came up with the idea to have various people pose for a picture with my dog and then put them together in an album, I mean, a physical one like in the good ol’ days.

The constituents of this album will only include people who have shown a genuine liking towards my dog. I’ll make exceptions for any female who is above average in physical attractiveness or any celebrity even if they are ugly. I’m a shallow human being.

There’s only 2 photos so far in the album and I’m struggling to nominate more than a handful of worthy individuals. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that I would travel to have pictures taken with my dog. It can be like an adventure like the Craigslist red paperclip saga where a guy bartered 14 transactions from a paperclip to a house. My tale will start with an old guy and end with Oprah. I can do this because I have time but I can’t do it because I’m kind of lazy.

An issue with orchestrating a photo to be taken with Oprah is that the Canadian/American border is closed to travellers unless deemed essential. An alternative is to attempt to contact Canadian icons such as Celine Dion or Bryan Adams. In my estimation though, Ryan Reynolds would be more likely to accept my proposal. There’s a fair to high probability though that none of them are residing in Canada since America is much more kind to people with fame and money. Canada only guarantees 2 things in life: Snow and high taxes.

If I can accumulate an acceptable amount of participants for my project then I can proceed to write a short biography of each individual. I will likely need a number in the double digits otherwise the large publishing houses will not consider my work. Once a best seller, my dog will be famous and part II of, Everyone Loves Baby The Dog ,will include an assortment of celebrities with all of them being good looking this time. When you move up in the world you’re allowed to forget about the little and ugly people even if they have helped you to get you to where you are. In life, you can’t let the bottom feeders hold you back from living your greatest life. They only exist so that the dominant species can always feel better about themselves. It is said that, comparison is the thief of joy, but that only applies if you’re a loser. When you’re on top, comparison is joy.


My main purpose to venture out to the shopping mall today was to buy a pretzel dog. They make them fresh so many occasions I find myself waiting for them to bring out the next batch. During my wait I had a browse in the Hallmark store for no good reason. They have some nice gift items so I gifted myself an item.

I’m not a Snoopy fan but I’m not anti-Snoopy either. I don’t think today’s kids know or care about Snoopy, Bugs Bunny or Garfield. When people stop caring about them they die. I don’t want them to die. It made me feel good to buy something from Hallmark because it’s such a wholesome store. My plan is to keep this little guy for some time and then gift it to someone. When it comes time to give it away I’ll probably be too sentimental and then decide that no one deserves it.

If today does not feel very appealing you can go out and breathe fresh air. Maybe the birds will be singing. Maybe the sun will give you some warmth. Free music and free vitamin D. Go flush the toilet knowing that there’s a large percentage of people in the world who do not have the luxury to flush clean drinking water away for their amusement.

The day is going to happen whether you like it or not so you can smile or not. Snoopy wants you to smile.

This post has been brought to you by Hallmark.

Food and Thought

On a YouTube video, an ex-prisoner stated that the #1 thing that prisoners miss most is not a fleshy bodily organ around their penis but instead, food. On a TV show some guy had a plate of French toast in front of him which made me want a plate of French toast in front of me. That was a few days ago. Ten minutes previously from the time of writing this post, I ate French toast that I prepared. Maslow’s hierarchy of prisoner needs has shelter and French toast on top while #2 is raping men once adequate energy is consumed.

On the way home, the radio had a show talking about all the consumer goods that get washed up onto shore from natural and man made disasters. The economy and people’s lives depend on everyone buying stuff they don’t need so that people have jobs manufacturing and selling stuff people don’t need.

A good way to hate your life is to figuratively sign it away to something or something that was probably never going to work out very well. My former housemate is an intentional conman who was able to con his way in to marrying a doctor. You can escape your way out of marriage fairly easily but she signed a new lease by having a child with him. She met him when she was 18 years old so she attached herself well before she could be of an age when she could be aware that losers usually don’t change. They had broken up for a while which was when I should have told her that he once had a plan to have his dogs euthanized if he wasn’t able to locate a dogsitter for the time he would be away in another country for vacation. My guess is that if he couldn’t find a dogsitter then his family wouldn’t allow him to join in on the trip with them. Years later when I accused him of the situation, he acted as if I made it all up. He may have that special ability some people have to block out information that does not agree with them. Some people call this being fucked in the head. Having the dogs being on a possible death row I ended up offering to take them in. He’s a good guy though because he believes in Jesus and has a cross tattooed on his arm.

Life is constructed in a manner in which it requires an abundance of time and effort to accomplish a goal but only one day to have it all fall apart. Evolution favours the people who persist and don’t screw up. A giant blunder will have you sitting in the corner for the rest of your life. I will leave you with some wise words:

  • Have money so that you can tell people and certain parts of life to get lost.
  • Don’t allow parasitic humans in your life
  • Don’t tell yourself it is or will be okay when you know it is probably not the case

It’s not a coincidence that I know so many deficient human beings. If I associated with them, what does it say about my past self? The statistics and literature do not favour the demographic of people who attained bad grades, dropped out of high school, involved themselves in criminal activity. There are some people I know who did not fall into this demographic but were still deeply associated with them. They’re not any better as much as they would like to believe they are. Their deficiencies are more easily masked by an appearance that the masses do not think to scrutinize.