I'm a big fan of dumb human tricks and world record holders. And, although I realize it is not normal behavior, I try my best to partake in such activities. For instance, eating an 8lb watermelon in an hour, lifting my body using just my thumbs, pulling a car with my hair, and now this. This is me drinking a bottle of water in 2 seconds. I'm still about a half a second off of the world record though.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
How to Make 80K a Year with only a High School Diploma
So, how can you make $80,000 a year straight out of high school? Cutting Grass? No. Working at McDonald's? Nope. Doing one of those work at home things? Nope not that either. Do you give up? The answer is sell drugs.
I was talking to a guy today, who for obvious reasons, will remain nameless. (Ok, ok, the real reason is I can't remember his name.) I'm not really sure how the subject came up but he decided to tell me how he, for many years, made a very lucrative living. Now, I enjoy being self employed. I'm not a big fan of having my time dictated to me by a boss. This guy, however, really didn't like having a boss. In fact, the only boss he ever had he punched in the face. Needless to say he lost that job. And thus began his career of being self employed. Now, he didn't have any benefits, unless you include free room and board that he got during his 4 year stint in prison, but never the less he did pretty well for himself. In fact, before he made a career shift, he was pulling in $300,000 a year.
"Look at these people. They work their a**s off just to make a living. Some of them are working just to pay their mortgage and will still lose their houses. Before I let that happen I would just go get a brick and make more money than these suckers make in a year. I won my house, cars, motorcycle. I'm not rich but I got everything I want. S**t, or I would just rob some place. You don't want to rob a bank though. They don't carry enough cash. What you want to do is rob a liquor store."
Now granted, most of you have not had a conversation like this before. We went from dealing drugs to knocking over liquor stores in a 3 minute conversation. And strangely, this all seemed lie a perfectly normal conversation to me. You see, everyone has at some time had some form of this conversation and that is, "What would you do for money?" Would you sell drugs? Would your rob a liquor store? Would you cheat on your taxes? Would you work 60 hours a week and not spend time with your family? Where do you draw the line?
I was talking to a guy today, who for obvious reasons, will remain nameless. (Ok, ok, the real reason is I can't remember his name.) I'm not really sure how the subject came up but he decided to tell me how he, for many years, made a very lucrative living. Now, I enjoy being self employed. I'm not a big fan of having my time dictated to me by a boss. This guy, however, really didn't like having a boss. In fact, the only boss he ever had he punched in the face. Needless to say he lost that job. And thus began his career of being self employed. Now, he didn't have any benefits, unless you include free room and board that he got during his 4 year stint in prison, but never the less he did pretty well for himself. In fact, before he made a career shift, he was pulling in $300,000 a year.
"Look at these people. They work their a**s off just to make a living. Some of them are working just to pay their mortgage and will still lose their houses. Before I let that happen I would just go get a brick and make more money than these suckers make in a year. I won my house, cars, motorcycle. I'm not rich but I got everything I want. S**t, or I would just rob some place. You don't want to rob a bank though. They don't carry enough cash. What you want to do is rob a liquor store."
Now granted, most of you have not had a conversation like this before. We went from dealing drugs to knocking over liquor stores in a 3 minute conversation. And strangely, this all seemed lie a perfectly normal conversation to me. You see, everyone has at some time had some form of this conversation and that is, "What would you do for money?" Would you sell drugs? Would your rob a liquor store? Would you cheat on your taxes? Would you work 60 hours a week and not spend time with your family? Where do you draw the line?
Friday, July 23, 2010
Picking Up a Prostitute
When I get together with my family we talk, we talk a lot. And that is why I was leaving their house at 1am this morning. As I started to pull out of the driveway I could see a lady who had been walking down the street stop, turn, and wait. She was waiting for me, I just knew it. She either wanted money, a cigarette or a ride, or even more likely, all three. For a moment I considered going back inside the house and waiting for her to leave but then decided that that would be silly. Sure enough, as soon as I reached the end of the driveway she asked for a ride soon followed a request for a cigarette and three bucks. "How far?" I asked, "Just a few miles to Reading," she replied. I could smell her body spray from out the window.
"Yea, sure," I said, clearing my front seat of all the junk. She was sweating profusely like she had been doing some, um, hard work. That also explained the body spray. The overpowering smell filled my lungs and it was hard to breath. Her directions were a bit incomplete and we ended up sitting in a dark driveway. I couldn't help but to think that this would be a very inconvenient time to get robbed considering the fact that I had $600 cash in my back pocket from an eBay sale the day before.
She asked to use my phone so I handed it to her. She started every call by typing in *67 to keep them anonymous. The first few times she got no one. On the third try she had a conversation that went something like, "Do you have anyone for me on 9? Yea, I'm over hear on Reading. Ok." This is when I started to really realize the occupation of my passenger. I could only assume that she was calling her pimp. I asked for my phone back and she asked me to delete the numbers. I did and she asked to make one more call, to her mom. Yea, uh huh, her mom. I said ok but make it fast. After two more calls with no answers I revoked her phone privileges. She asked me if I had deleted the numbers and I assured her I would later.
"Ok, you can drop me off up the street." I was happy to be leaving that dark driveway. The visions of being knifed slowly left my head. I had only pulled in there because I had thought she was getting out. Up the street turned out to be a cheap motel. And mind you, she didn't want to be dropped off in front of the motel. She wanted to be dropped off in back of the motel. Ok, a little further, nope, she laughed nervously, a little further, not here, a little further. She was starting to get on my nerves. Finally we were at the exact right spot and she said thank you and proceeded to walk to, um, work I suppose. So, I guess you could say that last night, one of the Children's Pastors from the Vineyard Westside picked up a prostitute. And I guess that would technically be an accurate statement. However, if you should choose to say that please feel free to share the rest of the story just as I have shared it with you.
"Yea, sure," I said, clearing my front seat of all the junk. She was sweating profusely like she had been doing some, um, hard work. That also explained the body spray. The overpowering smell filled my lungs and it was hard to breath. Her directions were a bit incomplete and we ended up sitting in a dark driveway. I couldn't help but to think that this would be a very inconvenient time to get robbed considering the fact that I had $600 cash in my back pocket from an eBay sale the day before.
She asked to use my phone so I handed it to her. She started every call by typing in *67 to keep them anonymous. The first few times she got no one. On the third try she had a conversation that went something like, "Do you have anyone for me on 9? Yea, I'm over hear on Reading. Ok." This is when I started to really realize the occupation of my passenger. I could only assume that she was calling her pimp. I asked for my phone back and she asked me to delete the numbers. I did and she asked to make one more call, to her mom. Yea, uh huh, her mom. I said ok but make it fast. After two more calls with no answers I revoked her phone privileges. She asked me if I had deleted the numbers and I assured her I would later.
"Ok, you can drop me off up the street." I was happy to be leaving that dark driveway. The visions of being knifed slowly left my head. I had only pulled in there because I had thought she was getting out. Up the street turned out to be a cheap motel. And mind you, she didn't want to be dropped off in front of the motel. She wanted to be dropped off in back of the motel. Ok, a little further, nope, she laughed nervously, a little further, not here, a little further. She was starting to get on my nerves. Finally we were at the exact right spot and she said thank you and proceeded to walk to, um, work I suppose. So, I guess you could say that last night, one of the Children's Pastors from the Vineyard Westside picked up a prostitute. And I guess that would technically be an accurate statement. However, if you should choose to say that please feel free to share the rest of the story just as I have shared it with you.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
eBay Policy
eBay's policy on dealing with their sellers is simple. Your not allowed to talk to anyone who can make a decision. Sure, you can talk to their support team via live chat all day. You can even talk to them on the phone if you can find their phone number that is. It exist but is buried deeper than Jimmy Hoffa's body. Ask to speak to a manager and they will give you this gem "Our managers don't talk via live chat but you can email them." "How about I call them?" Same cookie cutter answer. To make matters worse the email address that they give you is a generic one. Can you imagine getting that response from a physical company with a store front, customer service representatives that can't make decision and managers that can't be contacted? Ok, well how about you tell me what's wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to share that information with you."
Of course your not, that would be convenient. This all works perfectly with their policy of not replying to an email for 72 hours. I think eBay's policy regarding how they deal with seller can be summarized in this sentence, "I'm big and your small, ne ne ne ne boo boo."
Of course your not, that would be convenient. This all works perfectly with their policy of not replying to an email for 72 hours. I think eBay's policy regarding how they deal with seller can be summarized in this sentence, "I'm big and your small, ne ne ne ne boo boo."
Friday, May 28, 2010
Back Where I Started
My life, as my dad calls it, of being a horse trader started around 10 years ago. I was 19 years old and my mom introduced me to the grand world of auctions. Soon after my brother, being a minor, illegally set up his own eBay account and my life of buying and selling was on it's way. For years my brother and I would go to the Goodwill auction, twice a week, every week. Most of the people who attended knew each other, a lot of them were friends. I met a lot of nice people there, people that I saw twice a week, every week. And then, I got a job.
Tuesday, after being absent for six years, I returned. I walked in and pulled out my wallet. As I started to pull out my ID the auctioneer looked at me and asked, "What's that for."
I replied, "I need a number."
"Why" he asked, "it's 691, right."
He remembered, after all these years, he still remembered my number. As I walked around, people that I hadn't seen in many many years walked up to me and asked, "Where ya been?" What a funny question. Where have I been? I've been gone for 6 years but it seemed like only days, or perhaps weeks. "How is your brother doing?" they would ask. When I told them that he was in Italy they all said the same thing. "Wow, must be nice." One lady, presumably in her seventies, called me an Old Timer. "You were here before I was," she said. I knew I recognized you, we all did, all of us. So there I was. I was back where I started and it was a happy place to be.
Tuesday, after being absent for six years, I returned. I walked in and pulled out my wallet. As I started to pull out my ID the auctioneer looked at me and asked, "What's that for."
I replied, "I need a number."
"Why" he asked, "it's 691, right."
He remembered, after all these years, he still remembered my number. As I walked around, people that I hadn't seen in many many years walked up to me and asked, "Where ya been?" What a funny question. Where have I been? I've been gone for 6 years but it seemed like only days, or perhaps weeks. "How is your brother doing?" they would ask. When I told them that he was in Italy they all said the same thing. "Wow, must be nice." One lady, presumably in her seventies, called me an Old Timer. "You were here before I was," she said. I knew I recognized you, we all did, all of us. So there I was. I was back where I started and it was a happy place to be.
Monday, May 3, 2010
My View on Money
Have you ever played Risk, the game of world conquest? For those of you who are unfamiliar with this classic game, here are the basics. You have an army. Your friends have armies. You build your armies by conquering and maintaining territories. The more you have the more you accumulate. Risk is about taking calculated risks. Taking on another army could mean great loss or great gain.
Money, I've come to realize that my perspective on money varies greatly from most peoples. When I look at my bank statements I see little Risk soldiers. It's a game that I'm trying to win. Sometimes I will look and see that my army has grown in size. Other times I will see that a 1000 soldiers are MIA. Where did they go? A bill, that means that the enemy has killed some of my soldiers. Hopefully not too many. I do realize that some soldiers have to die to maintain control. An investment, that means that my soldiers are temporarily separated from the main army but will hopefully be back soon with reinforcements. I'm continually moving sections of my army from place to place, fighting, trying to gain more soldiers. Now even though I realize that this game is impossible to win I still enjoy playing it.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Insight from Saturday Night
Insight from Saturday Night
- I don't know how old I look but I didn't get IDed at the bar.
- The later it gets, the drunker people get, the better they dance.
*correction, the more they dance
- I can't dance. If you take be by the arm I will come with you and move slightly but it hardly qualifies as dancing.
- I saw a group of about dozen girls wearing pink wigs. Is this considered normal behavior in Kentucky?
- If I drank (which I don't)I would probably dance more because I would fail to know how terrible I am.
- A girl named Britney and her boyfriend sat down next to me. Britney was a bit inebriated. She kept introducing me to her friends. I shook hands with one girl and she told me that I needed a firmer handshake or as she put it, "do it like a man." Burn. Drunk chick one Dan zero.
- There was a biker guy who thought he knew me. I think he was wrong.
- Daniele does not like me to cross my arms or cough on my hands. I coughing on your arm really the proper way to do it?
- Out of the hundreds of people that I saw I was the only person wearing a yellow t-shirt and I was only one of two people wearing the color yellow. What do people have against the color yellow?
- If you are a decent cover band who regularly plays at a popular local bar you will get groupie chicks. They won't all be good looking and they won't all be sober but they will be your groupies none the less.
- Most German girls are mean. (This is not my theory it's just what I was told)
- Water is free.
- I don't know how old I look but I didn't get IDed at the bar.
- The later it gets, the drunker people get, the better they dance.
*correction, the more they dance
- I can't dance. If you take be by the arm I will come with you and move slightly but it hardly qualifies as dancing.
- I saw a group of about dozen girls wearing pink wigs. Is this considered normal behavior in Kentucky?
- If I drank (which I don't)I would probably dance more because I would fail to know how terrible I am.
- A girl named Britney and her boyfriend sat down next to me. Britney was a bit inebriated. She kept introducing me to her friends. I shook hands with one girl and she told me that I needed a firmer handshake or as she put it, "do it like a man." Burn. Drunk chick one Dan zero.
- There was a biker guy who thought he knew me. I think he was wrong.
- Daniele does not like me to cross my arms or cough on my hands. I coughing on your arm really the proper way to do it?
- Out of the hundreds of people that I saw I was the only person wearing a yellow t-shirt and I was only one of two people wearing the color yellow. What do people have against the color yellow?
- If you are a decent cover band who regularly plays at a popular local bar you will get groupie chicks. They won't all be good looking and they won't all be sober but they will be your groupies none the less.
- Most German girls are mean. (This is not my theory it's just what I was told)
- Water is free.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Doing Nothing
I don't do well with doing nothing. It is my preference to always have a rather full schedule. Sometimes I get so busy that I think that it would be nice to have a week free of teaching. Those are moments of temporary insanity. I am on day five of the first week in probably over six months in which I am not teaching or leading any classes. I don't have material to write, handouts to make, games to plan, and quite frankly I'm bored. Last week I broke a personal best by teaching/leading five classes in six days, three elementary, one 5th and 6th and one adult class. I wasn't planning on breaking a personal record, I was just blessed to have all of the opportunities fall in one weeks time. It was a lot of work, a lot of planning, it took a lot of time, and I loved it. In all honesty I'm probably just writing this blog because I'm bored. Just sitting around at home by myself drives me nuts. Just four more days and I get to teach again. Easter weekend, it's going to be awesome.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Status Updates by Ben Lane
WARNING: This Blog is rated PG-13
So my friend Ben sits around all day thinking of dumb (and sometimes brilliant) things to write as his status updates on facebook. Most of them are far to dirty to be published on my blog (90%). Here are a few that weren't filthy:
Just finished my first book yesterday.709 pages.................... Dang that was a lot of coloring!
[Error 404: User brain not found, try again later]
Men with words are like women with makeup,we either make ourselves look good or end up looking like clowns
What do you do if you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?
I just want to say being in a fake mafia is fine with me, having a fake farm is okay with me, even a fake zoo and fish aquarium.......... But when I keep getting invites that say "Here is 200 slices of key lime pie" or "tony whipped up extra fried chicken and wants you to have some" or "have some banana pudding". it pisses me off because I am fat and really want to eat all of that.
Please don't call me insane i prefer the term hilariously unique it makes me sound smarter!
Did you ever wonder if aliens secretly film people having sex, then make them into boring nature shows to show their kids on the Human Planet channel?
Never get into a food fight with cannibals
Apparently global warming will eventually kill over 6 million ppl. On a more serious note my snowman has just melted
The only time I have a problem with alcohol is when I spill it.
Why do they put designs on toilet paper?? Honestly, while someone is taking a c**p are they gonna look at the toilet paper and say OMG its a butterfly!?
So my friend Ben sits around all day thinking of dumb (and sometimes brilliant) things to write as his status updates on facebook. Most of them are far to dirty to be published on my blog (90%). Here are a few that weren't filthy:
Just finished my first book yesterday.709 pages.................... Dang that was a lot of coloring!
[Error 404: User brain not found, try again later]
Men with words are like women with makeup,we either make ourselves look good or end up looking like clowns
What do you do if you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?
I just want to say being in a fake mafia is fine with me, having a fake farm is okay with me, even a fake zoo and fish aquarium.......... But when I keep getting invites that say "Here is 200 slices of key lime pie" or "tony whipped up extra fried chicken and wants you to have some" or "have some banana pudding". it pisses me off because I am fat and really want to eat all of that.
Please don't call me insane i prefer the term hilariously unique it makes me sound smarter!
Did you ever wonder if aliens secretly film people having sex, then make them into boring nature shows to show their kids on the Human Planet channel?
Never get into a food fight with cannibals
Apparently global warming will eventually kill over 6 million ppl. On a more serious note my snowman has just melted
The only time I have a problem with alcohol is when I spill it.
Why do they put designs on toilet paper?? Honestly, while someone is taking a c**p are they gonna look at the toilet paper and say OMG its a butterfly!?
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The Money Box
Believe it or not, before this last Saturday, I had never bought something from an antique mall. I've always found their prices to be inflated and most of their merchandise ordinary. When I saw this piece I just couldn't resist. It was neither expensive ($65) nor was it ordinary (I can't find any record of it's equal).
This is a church money box. It measures 12 inches tall, 8 inches wide and weighs a whopping 40lbs. It's built like a safe. Whoever built this thing was serious about the church not being robbed. The walls of the box are 1/4in of solid steel. The door is 1/2in thick and has two locks. Additionally this box was made to be screwed to the churches wall. That's some serious security.
This is a church money box. It measures 12 inches tall, 8 inches wide and weighs a whopping 40lbs. It's built like a safe. Whoever built this thing was serious about the church not being robbed. The walls of the box are 1/4in of solid steel. The door is 1/2in thick and has two locks. Additionally this box was made to be screwed to the churches wall. That's some serious security.
Friday, March 5, 2010
What Are You Going to Pump With That
I buy and I sell, that's what I do. It's fun and I make decent money doing it. I've bought and sold just about everything. Dental equipment, pantyhose, blinking doll eyes, a Rolling Stones pinball machine, gold coins, an antique javlin and about 2000 other items. There is, however one item that I have never bought and sold. I see them listed on craigslist frequently but have never even ventured to check on their resale value. You see, whenever I buy something from someone they win undoubtedly ask me, "So, what are you going to do with that." I always try to beat around the bush to avoid telling them that I'm going to sell it for a lot more than I just paid them. But still, that is that one item. What would I say? Even if there is money to be maid, I'm just too embarrassed to buy and sell breast pumps.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
The Crush
If your on facebook for a long enough period of time you will undoubtedly stumble upon people that you forgot existed. I currently know a lot of people, hundreds for sure, perhaps thousands. But, how many people did I used to know? How many people have I forgotten about. Facebook is a good place for rediscovering those people. I have one friend who enjoys having old acquaintances send her friend request so that she can hit deny. I'm not quite that mean. Although that is funny.
Ok, ok, short story shorter. I was browsing an old friends pictures when I saw a comment by another person. The name sounded familiar so I mumbled it a few times to myself. When that didn't work I went to her profile. After staring at her face for a good two minutes I remembered. I went to church with this girl 18 years ago (give or take). Not only did I got to church with her I had a serious crush on her little sister. I have vivid memories of this. This was probably my first crush. So, I looked on facebook and found said girls profile and then I remembered. I remembered what it was like to be a little kid with a crush. I had totally forgotten what that feels like. It was so wonderfully terrifying. Of course I never told anyone that I had a crush on her. In fact if you are reading this than you are among the first to hear my confession. It must be fun to be a kid.
Ok, ok, short story shorter. I was browsing an old friends pictures when I saw a comment by another person. The name sounded familiar so I mumbled it a few times to myself. When that didn't work I went to her profile. After staring at her face for a good two minutes I remembered. I went to church with this girl 18 years ago (give or take). Not only did I got to church with her I had a serious crush on her little sister. I have vivid memories of this. This was probably my first crush. So, I looked on facebook and found said girls profile and then I remembered. I remembered what it was like to be a little kid with a crush. I had totally forgotten what that feels like. It was so wonderfully terrifying. Of course I never told anyone that I had a crush on her. In fact if you are reading this than you are among the first to hear my confession. It must be fun to be a kid.
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