One year ago today: April 17, 2016, 250k in Greek.
Five years ago today: April 17, 2012, no more Kennedys, please.
Nine years ago today: April 17, 2008, a village called Corkscrew?
Random years ago today: April 17, 2011, early transistor work.
This is the Riptide, the club I played second-most-often in the years I lived in South Florida. It is right on the beach, a 1950s type hotel. No reservations, it is first come first serve.
Here’s another curiosity this is the inside of a wooden level. It’s the metal part after the wood part rotted away in the rain. It fell in a rain bucket. Help me figure out a practical or decorative use for it and I’ll cut you in for 20%. Huh? Well because that’s my fee for helping sell anything, has been for all my life. I get 20% or you go find somebody else. I get paid for what I know, not what I do.
Taking a mid-morning break, I read some articles from Forbes magazine. Forbes is not as bad as the others for not telling you where their success stories got their seed money. Few things irk me more than a magazine that implies those who are born rich made it on their own. I searched throughout the 90s for a book or a school that would teach me how to write programs to sell things on the Internet, and to this day still cannot find one.
One of two articles I found to my liking were “jetsmarter”. This had to happen, it is a service that resembles Uberjet for private scheduled flights. Prices were not quoted, naturally, but it enables those with the bucks to book empty seats on the Learjet circuit. Just think, no airport security, no hassles from the goons, I wonder how long this one will last once they start to bite into regular airline and airport revenues. Few things would please me more than to watch these monopolistic airport operators shake in their boots. That would teach them what they can do with their “departure tax”. (I hate all British-style taxes based on perceived ability to pay.)
Nor is it lost to me that the majority of these innovators are from Russia and its former satellites. Millennials each think being 27th in the world in academic achievement isn’t going to affect them personally. Why, they know in ten years they’ll be running the country (they think) and they’ll just write themselves their own welfare checks. Besides, once they get rid of Trump, they can let in a hundred million of the poorest and worst immigrants on the planet, and by comparison, they’ll appear smart.
Here is an ad from Forbes, plugging private jet charters. I dub this picture, “Millennial in his daddy’s mismatched suit walking in the wrong direction and scratching his ass.”
The second article was something I must follow up. It is a scheme that gets around another quagmire in the economy—automobile insurance. I don’t know how it works, but it appears to be some type of club, where the members are pre-qualified. They can borrow, not rent, your personal car and what got my attention was reports of making $10,000 per year at this charging as little as $5 per hour. That would not be possible if it involved regular vehicle rental insurance rates, so watch for retaliatory fireworks soon.
Nonetheless, it is evident that almost 30 years after the Internet arrived, so also has a generation that may not realize it, but they are finally bucking the status quo. AirBNB, MagicJack, all these businesses were impossible under the old system, so nurtured as it was by the idle rich. They’ll fight back but there is a new breed of competitor and their groundbreaker was the much-maligned Shkreli, the first one who didn’t succumb to crucifixion by the leftist media. First the vanguard, then the host.
Trans-Europe Express.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
Dang, it will be another day to get the room prepped for that drywall. Here is a chart of the screws I purchased, more to let you know I’ve been doing my homework. This is not a drywall screw, it is a 6x1-5/8” bugle head Type W fastener. Phosphate coated and not to be used on treated lumber, but they never tell you why not. One different item was the directions now say not to place any of the drywall screws to within 7” of where the panel meets the floor or ceiling. Again, no explanation.
So pay attention, as the pendulum now swings back the other way. These refineries are immense operations that use cyanide and carbon to process ground up gold. The description reminded me more of distilling than smelting, and the final gold is removed by electrolysis. It is unspoken, but there further seems to be a national agreement (or conspiracy) between these outfits to not purchase gold that has been even partially purified. Between that and the utter lack of any place to sell raw gold, what is the next best thing to setting up your own refinery?
Right, it’s back to assaying. If one cannot melt and produce gold, the next best thing is a man who knows how to tell how much gold is in the nuggets. Fine, but the cheapest course is close to $5,000 at my old trade school. That’s a misnomer, it began as a trade school but I’ve used far more of their academic training in my career than any university I’ve attended. That’s where I learned my practical accounting, programming, and statistics. If it is a trade school, it is no ordinary example.
Could I do this course by correspondence? What separated the school from university was the large percentage of lab time. My computer courses were sometimes less than a third lecture time. The rest was on the terminals—a component sorely lacking in most of the garbage programming that is out there today. So we return to where I started a week ago, looking at the assay part. As far as I can read, all these assayers work in close conjunction with the refineries, which now appear to me as stagnant tools of the establishment. Think for a moment—is there a market for an independent assayer? There would be an instant demand if the banks ever get what is coming to them.
Har-har, Trent has reported in and like most guys at some point in their career, you realize that dating women has got to be a scam invented by restaurants and flower shops. When I say I don’t go out on Fridays, by extension that means I don’t waste my time trying to pick up women on the other guy’s payday. Trent has also been down to the old stomping grounds, the Hollywood Broadwalk, and reports the same old people are providing the entertainment. Hey, pal, at least you can still afford to take women out to them joints. Myself, I’ll invest words but not much else until I seal the deal.
To you newbies, that is why my relationships last. I’ve only had three in my life. I don’t butter the gal up to get her in the sack, then go join the local poker club. I’m the opposite; I don’t take women anywhere much at first. Ah, but after she gets me coming home at night, that’s where I go all out. That’s correct, after it’s steady, I don’t ignore the babe. What? Well, if you must know, among my favorites are taking her to chick flicks (and actually watching), cooking her breakfast in bed (what’s for dessert?), Sunday brunch at terribly expensive places, frequent holding of hands, and the one that always works year after year after year—hold the damn car door open for her. Even if you just had a tiff, you fool.
You see, women have also read that old quip about the car door.
“A conference call is the best way for
a dozen people to say “bye” 300 times.”
I’ve found several sites that sell locally on the Internet, some of which are nationally advertised. But I wouldn’t know that, would I? I know as much about TV commercials as a lot of people know about counting toothpicks. Three attracted my attention and we’ll have them investigated by tomorrow. They are Offer Up, LetGo, and Get It Now, or however they are spelled to appeal to the greatest generation.
Listen, I have to cut this short. I really busted my ass getting that drywall ready. It better not rain overnight because I removed a window to get the panels inside. Before you go, there are a couple of issues of curiosity I want to go over with you concerning blogs. Most important is that when you write a blog, you are no longer considered an author by the system. You are classified as a publisher. This is an important distinction because it is governed by a different type of law. Sure, in the early days, you were a writer, but government “regulation” of the Internet was inevitable.
How that affects this blog is minimal, because I always knew something like this would happen. It might help if I define this blog in the way that the powers-that-be would look at it. If I was subject to ordinary freedom of speech guidelines, I would still be fine, but less careful posters may not be. Blogs are divided into three categories. The dreaded cat blogs, the corporate or boss blog, and the viral or pick-me blog. What you are reading here is a crossover between the cat blog and the viral blog. I write about what appears as trivia but the intention is that some day the world will realize this blog actually contains new information. How does this affect what you read here? I’ll tell you.
In a nutshell, I never write to incite. That’s a tricky term for most to understand. If I tell you how to cheat on your taxes or build a bomb, that’s incitement. Authors may get away with it, but publishers can’t. Of course I know how to wire a dangerous circuit, or pluck and crack passwords, and how to shaft people who sincerely need a lesson on leaving you alone. But I don’t. There is a fine line between describing a wrongdoing and broadcasting step-by-step how to go about it. Now you know too much.
ADDENDUM
Lest you think I’m all work and no play, combined the two. I went downtown for a brew and sketched out some cupboards. Except, not in the kitchen, overhead cabinets in the bedrooms. Noticing the ceilings here are around 3” taller than most new houses, why not utilize some of that space for storage? There’s a strip long the top of each closet wall that nobody is ever going to use for anything else and it’s wasted headroom for any furniture put near that wall. I know nothing about building such things.
Yes, if there had been a few babes present, you’d hear a different account. Instead, there was one large family group where the only half good-looking gal was the youngest and she had three kids. Most of the time I don’t party is because there is nobody to party with. You, too, will in time encounter this. Taking the old lady downtown for a beer somehow lacks that element of chance so dear to those fond of novelty. If life offers you bored or lonesome, my friend, choose lonesome. Because you can’t regret lonesome.
Last Laugh
Return Home
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
