One year ago today: November 6, 2020, we danced.
Five years ago today: November 6, 2016, brunch at the Terrace.
Nine years ago today: November 6, 2012, money and nothing else.
Random years ago today: November 6, 1984, Pete the Finn, Thailand.
In five years, my property taxes have gone from $415 to $602. Angry? No, because my plan is to position myself so that by the time I feel a thing, the rest of them are in sheer agony. I had to pay $125 for the “school fund” and $152 county taxes. The good news in that five years, I did not pay an estimated $39,000 in rent somewhere else. And a lot of the saved money was plowed back into the equity in this property, which I would not sell for just about anything. We are in property mode today.
The doggies are now used to me and spend often the whole day over here, just keeping an eye on things. No vermin in the yard and you know how instinct keeps them protecting property. They had beef stew with cheese this morning and can now detect my footsteps inside my cabin even if I tiptoe. So yeah, the hillbilly has to head over here to visit his own dogs.
He’s in his mid-30s, I thought maybe he was younger, but over the course of building the shed, he’s been cleaning up the yard. So no problem spoiling the dogs and you get to know the guy, he’s had one rough life but I never understood why he never took advantage of the free training programs for people in his situation. I’m always leery of stories of people in my own generation saying they had to drop out of grade school. College and university, okay because you are paying for it, but grade school.
Now I have a shed and a yard a lot better than it used to be. And I have the back yard again, which was cluttered with those massive tree trunks from years ago that JZ never showed up to help with. Grrrr. I should have bought that bungalow and made him live in it. Did I mention he’s putting on weight? Probably not, because same thing happened to me over 15 years earlier.
We got home and sat on the lawn chairs, throwing sticks for the dogs. He says I fell asleep sitting up, just like that. It was chilly but I was wearing my Tennessee jacket so he left. I woke up at 8:30PM, long after dark. Don’t laugh, one day you should be so lucky. I gave him the old Chinese scooter, realizing I was never going to use it again. He got it running, I understand. It would start, but conk out by itself, so it was nothing serious.
I have an alarm on the van dash, so I took it to get scanned. Piston five is misfiring, usually a spark plug. Always start with the cheapest repair first. Now I find out the firing order on that van depends on a bunch of things I don’t know how to decipher. On-line says this is a common problem with the V6, if I can’t find it I’ll have a mechanic do it. It takes only platinum plugs, so start with the cheapest fix. In order of expense, a misfire is spark plug, then the wiring, then the coil, fuel injector, vacuum leak, then timing. Anything else is add-on fuel efficiency garbage.
Yoga Forest Campground.
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We stopped on the way back at “Almost Famous Chicken.” Unless we got there on a bad day, I don’t recommend it. The place is full of millennials, the only good news is two of them were decent looking blonde gals. The portions are small and the water costs the same as soda, they have no coffee. Ten bucks each is normal these days but this was not worth it, I make better chicken right here at home at a twentieth of the cost. Also, their fries were too salty and I do like salty fries.
The atmosphere was that I did not want to take obvious pictures, so here is a clandestine shot of Liquid Death, water from the Alps. The can is plastered with meaningless phrases, just the appeal needed for the ass-end generation. The food was half the size I cook here, the bones were so small the doggies didn’t have to chew.
Bloomberg reports that millennials are experiencing job burnout. I read the article in amazement. I know about stressful jobs on the computer, I had one for 15 long years. The article said the trend was to move from high-paying work to something more in tune with themselves. How could this amaze me? Mainly that these millennials clearly think they are the first and only generation this has ever happened to. Talk about self-centered. I never saw my work as defining my life. A Gallup poll shows 70% of millies feel job dissatisfaction compared to 21% of my generation. Interesting, because that makes them something we were not, namely a majority. What do you call it when a majority can’t have their own way?
Years ago I mentioned the National Geographic video, “The Human Footprint”. I finally got to watch more of the series and it contains a chilling message. At first you get the impression they are saying that it costs so much to raise a white baby that that practice has to be stopped so that more black babies can be produced. The series is about as far left and anti-white as you can get, as if the white man who drinks 43,000 cans of soda in his lifetime is depriving sub-Saharan Africa of their clean water source. The video ignores the role of technology and effort. As if the soda just magically appeared because the man was white. Nobody had to invent the product, mine the metal, build the factories, ship the goods, and stock the shelves.
By the third video, things get sinister. The child is growing up and needs are increasing. It has become evident Americans are the bad guys, a society of consumers. Forget that they efficiently produce goods the rest of the world is clamoring for, goods that determine whether life has some material comforts below which is a subsistence level existence. The telephone was, in my view, not invented in Africa or China because they had no need for it. Their “civilizations” are often thousands of year older than ours, if they were ever going to amount to anything, it’s not like they didn’t have enough time.
I said chilling message, and it is reflected in the UN 2030 Agenda. These sources contain the elements of not just anti-white sentiment, but a far more sinister outcome. It is that whites, being a minority, are using the majority of resources for themselves. Yeah, resources like oil the Arabs sat on top of for 2,000 years and never figured a use for? The plan is not to take the resources from the whites and spread them thinner, but to extort the white’s propensity to work hard and produce. They must be herded into compounds and kept as producers for the bulk of non-white humanity, because they are superior at it. Slave laborers, as it were, for the good of greater mankind. The cannibal will finally learn to use a fork and knife.
ADDENDUM
Now, I mentioned a decision. After consulting with the Reb, I feel this is the right time to join a real estate buyer’s group. Not one that holds property, but one that specializes in flipping estates. TMOR that is where grandma dies and the kids live out of State. They just want to sell it fast but the mortgage industry is such that it always takes too long. A buyer’s group takes advantage of the fact some people have, say, $30,000 in cold, hard cash, and other people do not. You put together ten such like-minded people and you do the arithmetic.
You already know I bottom-feed with real estate. It’s a crooked market and I never had any intention of playing fair. I check out the lowest priced places, but next week I’m going one step further. I’m joining a group of like-minded investors. I’ve dealt with them in years past but could never comfortably meet their minimum buy-in fee. This time I should be fine. It is not uncommon for these people to flip a property at twice the price because they are a known go-to when it comes to estate sales, that is, people know they can get cash fast and turn to them.
This is the time to move on it. The organization is by cells of investors. The usual cell is three people and mine has already come up with six figures. All I do is keep scanning for bargains as I always have, but this expands the territory from Lakeland all the way to Orlando, plus I get access to their mailing list. Sooner or later something always comes up. I’m just sharing the effort with a larger group.
