Thursday 24 July 2014

And then we F*ck them... the tale of Nonprofits and feel good Corporations.. and hashtags

Alright. I’m gonna let you guys in on a secret. Most “good” people are dicks. I know. Cry Foul. “Johnny Counsultant, how you wanna play me like that?” As long as you are making the world a better place, who cares if you get a little slice… said every Financial Advisor ever… and Ponzi scheme dude… and cops taking a little “bang bang” for themselves after a bust. Hey, the kids are at their grandparents and me and the wifey haven’t gotten freaky since ’99… now hand me that blow. Don’t believe me? Just look at the slide below. Don’t worry, it’s the truth, slides don’t lie. Ask Bain.


 But don't you want to help the world? Don't be a bad person.. Gimme your money. It's going to rehabilitate the moon. 


Catch all that? Probably not. Don’t worry. Ill hit you with that smooth consultant speak. Actually I won’t. Most charities are taking your money and f*cking you blind with it. Smooth enough? They use some lube, so just sit back, relax, and pretend I’m pretty.

 Nonprofits.. it's the new Enron... or Wall Street, or whatever it is you people are always bitching about on your Facebook about changing the world while you wait in line at Dunkin Donuts getting fat off empty calories and shame! AND SHAME



So Tom gives a pair of shoes to charity if you buy a pair sweet. Now you get a pair of shit quality shoes, that dude is rich, and some kind in Africa now has shoes… that never wore shoes before, or needed them… or needed other things… like clean water… or the internet… or angry birds. The United Way dude made over a million. Goodwill… not even a charity, it’s a Corporation, for profit. Did I just blow your mind? You are lucky it wasn’t something else… since I Have no idea how to do that, and no desire to learn. So above… I gave you my creation. Diversification for the institutional investor. It’s simple. I get a ton of money from people that need diversification (a different mix of stuff to lower risk morons), and I refinance Bschool kids debt. Good bschools. Like my buddy breezy that has like 60k in debt but graduated with me, he is a consultant too, breezy the consultant. Look it up fact. So 2% instead of 6-9%... yea its awesome sauce. Now non-profit… so we can’t have profit. Cool. I will gift that shit to kids for scholarships… like art degrees, or strippers. Now… I’m running this shiz. I’m expensive. I need at least 250k as a starter salary, and more if this thing goes regional. So we are making the world a better place by lowering loan rates and saving the US economy from the next bubble, investors get diversification through this alternative investment, kids get scholarships, strippers get golden hearts, and I get 250k a year to run it. Also, I need wheels to get to meetings. I assume this is a Maserati. And corporate apartments and retreats. Welcome to Non-profits. We sells you, take your money.. .and then as my good buddies from Jersey say, well… then we f*ck’em. Enjoy. Slides in rather nice. 

I bet it does... I bet it does. So.. who wants to go donate money to charity by buying some Toms, United Way feel good stuff, or some of those mutli colored bracelets highschoolers use to show how many sexual maneuvers they have mastered? oh sorry... that they have tried. 

Monday 16 June 2014

Minnesota: North of the Wall

Well known fact: I am in Minnesota. I am not a native. I grew up in the Southeastern United States. Land of milk and honey. At people talking in tongues then transferring to tube tops to watch cars crash. ie. A pretty awesome place. Well known fact 2: Love me game of thrones. I am a human. Hi.

Unknown fact: Minnesota is actually based on the north wall in the Game of Thrones mythos. Winter is coming. I think Minnesota should embrace this fact. Here is my contribution. One love.



I looked it up. You dont have a funky saying yet. Get one. Would you rather be a lover like virginia? Or a free folk pounding maniac like Jon Snow? That's what i thought. 




 The only hospitable place North of the Wall to stay the night. Obviously, Starwood needs to jump on this. 




 Obviously, I think I am really f*cking clever for coming up with that line. Me and 10,000 other 12 year old prepubescent boys. 



 This is what happens when you leave the city proper. 



What happens if you leave your house in winter. 

Wednesday 4 June 2014

Homie Rich Quan aka Mr. CEO (It's what his title say) lays down consulting advice!

Today’s topic is why homie rich quan could be the greatest consultant of all time. First you have to watch his amazing video: Some type of way. Don’t worry, I am a consultant,  I will still ramble after the fact…


 Also used in Suburgatory. Great Show. Miss you Jane Levy. 

As with any project you have to build bridges to the chorus. Bridges are hugely important in the world of networking. Without a bridge you can’t make the connection, which means you miss your flight, which means your honey in your city is going to go all crazy on yo ass. Or your partner. Whatever. Stop pissing people off.

No idea who this chick is, but I hate her. Agree to disagree M'am! 

Anyways, Rich (we are on shortened named basis although he can still call me Johnny), nails it. Below is the bridge.

My Niggas been hustlin' trying to make him something
Ain't no telling what he'll do for the paper
Soufflé, I'm straight, I scrape my plate,
Sade, I'm a smooth operator.
-quoted so you can’t call me racist

Nailed it. First, he calls out all his buddies that work hard. Networking again. The man is a genius. He knows the objective, paper. Now with digital currency and all this might be outdated, but how would you rhyme bit coin? Forlorn? Now he knows his strengths, which is key. He is the king of baking dishes, a Souffle… I might have gone with ribs, but I am not as eloquent as our resident beat poet.  He knows the value he brings to the client, supply chain management, or in this case… smooth operator. Thank you Rich, for this value add.
Actually if that is batter from a souffle, I choose that. Can an option be anything licked by Jessica Alba????


  
Now the chorus. The rhetoric we tell all our clientele, we sell ourselves, we sell them, we sell snails and puppy dog tails.

(I Drop The Top Of My Whip Baby!)
That car I'm driving make you feel some type of way
That Custom Breitling make you feel some type of way
This bitch I'm with got me feeln' some type a way
Is it because my homies rich you feel some type of way?
Some type of way, make you feel some type of way
Heard she wanna fuck me, know you feel some type of way
Mr. CEO is what my title say
Me and my homies did your Ho, he feel some type of way.
-note the correct spelling of the word ho


The verses are almost inconsequential, just like our actual means. The beginning and end (deck) matter. Period.  Obviously like the Quan, we want to make our clients feel good. So we give them what they want (bonus is you get that Running Man reference). We make our clients feel “some type of way” and we do this through powerpoint vs. the Bugatti with the implanted stripper jumping up and down on the car (Seriously, get the f*ck of the car!). Watches, cars, homies, make the women want to sleep with quan (cause his dope lyrics don’t cut it), and our decks, presentation, workshops, work papers make C-Suite feel some sort of way). Mr. CEO is what my title say. Hell yes Homie, Hell yes.


Until then... smokem if you got them. Got a OG coming in SF for the WKND, so we will hit yo ladies up later! 



Get excited, next week is a regression of the style of dances exotic dancers should utilize in their 3 song repository (not repertoire hahaha) to illicit the most cash.

Friday 9 May 2014

Consulting: The mother of all jobs

Alright... maybe we will have to do a post once every two weeks since I am a huge loser that doesn't have time. Hey! Pretty blondes and grocery shopping in Delores Park takes time. And you think this hair fixes itself? Geez... You don't have to be a dick about it. Anyways, this post was circulating about the world's hardest job. The issue is that it described mothers. The rub was that you work for free... which you don't. Those kids will one day take care of you, you are fulfilled, and if you are a stay at home mom... you get paid (ie monetary support/stuff) through either a man (or woman on the West Coast) or the government (shame on you! FOR SHAME!). Anyways, I read the description... and its a consultant. There are 27 issues, but let's be honest, you are already about to stop reading, so I am doing 5, or 6, whatever. Penguinds. Let's get this party rocking.... 


Must be able to work 135+ hours a week
-Welcome the the jungle… or another classic song choice. Boom, Boom, Boom, come back to my room? No? Not feeling that? Not even a tingle? Really? Alright whatever. Point is that we sometimes have to work long, arduous hours for great pay that we bitch about. Sound interested? Better put down the bike tire spoke and go back 10 years and start learning. Granted we probably aren’t working investment banker hours, but we are up there. This much is true. I hear enough people complaining about it. It has to be true. Just cause I’m not doesn’t mean that someone else isn’t. The same could be said for your wife/girlfriend/husband/boyfriend. I would put mistress or boy toy, but I am assuming you are hitting that.


Some people work hard and play hard.. I say why not combine?!? Of course the ATL and DC office stares at me when I am in town with my vest, hemp bracelet, hipstar (damn right hipstar) framed glasses, and miley cyrus haircut... Not even a blink in SF. Gotta love the west coast. Fur Sure. 


Ability to work overnight, associate needs pending

-I have worked overnight here and there. Not constantly, but it happens. It’s not that bad. Means I get to sleep in the next day to the woman I love…. Also known as my body pillow… her name is Lucy. As a single person (read no children), this is fine. I can make my sleep up. This is the same as college minus the alcohol, sex, heavy narcotics, death metal, and guy dressed as a Panda jerking off in the corner.



Willingness to forgo any breaks

-I feel like this is any job? Do you have a job where you can say “Not right now Joe. Its my ciggy / coffee / wanking break right now. You do? GO and F yourself. Honestly though, if you have a job where you clock in and out and measure your breaks… I don’t want you job. Im not judging, but yea… kinda am. Not for me.  



Work mostly standing up and/or bending down
I will work in whatever position you tell me. We have ergomatic chairs and $hit, treadmill desk stations, crap conference rooms, planes, trains, cars (that’s dangerous)… we are the Kamasutra of working conditions B!tch. Recognize the greatness… and buy me a massage. No not that one… one from the creepy place. Mmmm…


Creepy Cat massages are the best. I'm just as furry.. and I can pur if you would like. Please? 


Must be able to lift up to 75 lbs. on a regular basis

I don’t know if it is required… but I can. I pick up my girlfriend and she weighs more than that. I’m pretty sure if I keep complaining I am going to give her a complex. But complexes are good. Ask Ruby Ridge.



Ph.D. in psychology or real-life equivalent


This is our entire job. Pyscho-analysis of the “stakeholders” and the “kingmakers”, the “champions”, the “oppressors of change”, the “touch points”… we are hired to get in there, get dirty, figure out what people want, give it to them, and if they don’t like it, convince them that they like it. Screw it, if we were drinking Chianti and eating people, we would be the Hannibal lecters of the business world. That’s why most the world hates us, or is scared of us, or wants to love us… pretty sure the last ones have daddy issues though.  

And if you don't listen to my psyschobabble bullshit... well, I have other measures. or if you live in Charlotte, I won't even try the talking. Just the burying 

Friday 11 April 2014

1/9 a way to a kid... thats how long I have been gone. What? No I didn't have a f*cking kid. Good god man!

Wow… It has been over a month. Sorry internet. I still heart you, but I feel like we are pulling away from each other, or out, and the fun is just over. I’m sleepy. Bananas.  A month. That is like 1/9 the time to have a child, which by the way, seems that everyone underneath the sun is doing. This hasn’t been my fault. If you were more loving, attentive, and caring, I wouldn’t have strayed, but look at you now. Sobbing in the corner because daddy didn’t give you any bacon. Well, I learned my lessons and after trysts in San Francisco, Phoenix, Minneapolis, and DC I have come home to roost. And by trysts, I mean work. Work hard play hard people!

The above is sponsered by Buddha's Lounge in ChinaTown... cause I assume they will give me free beer for posting it... cause Chinese people stick together... like dashi on steamed rice. See what I did there? No? Piss off. Also, this is how I get amped up before I go out every night. Also, how I enter meetings with clients. Where's my signed SOW???


But don’t worry. The world has been punishing me. And I know you like to watch me get whipped Christian grey style. My current office is in Minnesota. That’s right. The place you haven’t heard of. Not only that, but its 70 out and the lakes are still frozen. Physics doesn’t apply here. Its Twilight zone here MotherF&ckers and no one is getting out alive! Speaking of… Just got told there was a derailment that hit this office building in 2005.... I am 15 feet from the train tracks. I tried to break up with Minnesota, but man, she just keeps me coming back. Must be the salary… cause its not the body. They grow them big here.


My love life in a nutshell with Minnesota.... I throw here around, giver what she wants, but man... unfulfillment (not a word) abounds. Also... not this sexy. What don't you get about "Growing them big???"  That's why I am looking nationwide for a woman. Interested? You were but now you aren't? You realize this blog is a joke right? No? Gah... stop sucking. Just be... I dont know... more like me. Can I marry me? mmmmmmm Johnny...  


Also, I have been called the worst hippie ever by multiple people in the past few weeks. Let me be clear, I don’t know if I am a hippie. Hippies say I am a yuppie. Yuppies say I am a hippie, Hipsters just get mad I dress better than them and throw $hit at me. It’s a crapshoot. The only place I fit in is as a cult leader somewhere fathering several thousand children into a new age of enlightenment laced with PCP, LSD, PNV, and other Acronyms that are either sexually explicit or drug terminology. Take my hand. Don’t be afraid. Seriously if you don’t I’m going to have to get the cuffs.


Don't be afraid to jump with me into the fun filled pool of dreams and delusions! Its filled with balloons... and foam... and laffy taffy. Hell yea, laffy taffy. God that stuff was awesome. What? No? Please refer above... Shhh... Go to sleep. Ill just stay here... and watch. 

But I think we should recommit our vows. I vow to love you, engage you, listen to your stupid $hit, and write a blog post at least once every two weeks, with the goal of once a week. What are you going to do for me??? You vow what? ATM. Deal. No taksey backsies. And I promise about 5% will be about actual consulting. Since I am traveling with points now, hit cities like lines of blow in a sorority house before the frat gangbang, and talking to some high level f*ckers that control your very existence. Scared? You probably f*cking should be. I’m in charge…. We should all be frightened…. To be continued!



To those that still refuse to believe I am a boy... first off what the hell am I? A sprite? A ken doll? A woman with an extremely long... you know what? Doesn't matter. Proof will set you free!!! 



Wednesday 5 March 2014

My first top ten list for consulting in the office! I swear it is still humorous

So apparently top ten lists are where its at. That gets you hits on the blog. I don’t do it for the money, or the love, I do this for me, but dammit… here it goes! My first top ten list. The top ten things I do that are basically gospel and you should do to in any consulting office (big four, big 3, big dong or otherwise). Also, this top ten is in no order… go figure right?

Honorable mention:  Office Music

These bitches really want chocolate... you better give it to them. Also, good way to get pumped for Friday happy hour. Also, my current clients are Japanese. I'm just trying to relate. 

1.     Sometimes when I am standing next to someone at the urinal. I shake it three times, just to fuck with them. You should do this too (girls don’t think you are exempt, do the same in the stall).

2.     Normal people suck. Be unique, but you, and if you are normal, then change. Surround yourself with eclectic, loving, and strange as $hit people. Even in the office… and definitely your private life.

3.     The coke machine stole my coke… twice. Diet Pepsi? Serious? F%ck off.

4.     I think one Friday a month instead of casual jeans day it should be casual shirt day. Wife beaters for boys and tube tops for the classy ladies… with slacks and pencils skirts. Holla if you hear me.

What casual Friday should be. I mean this is the true meaning right? Now its relegated to jeans, but make sure there are no holes. It's like taking the message of peace and love and turning it into Manson Helterskelter crap. 


5.       My office has a mother’s room, which I assume is for scolding children, drinking wine, popping pills in the morning (poppin molli, mama sweatin), and book clubs. Today it was occupied! Repeat... the mother's room is occupied! First time ever. I think this further supports my argument for a screaming room instead... I hear tons more of that.

6.       I like calling bitches lovely… hey lovely. Feel free to use at the office.

7.       At happy hours, don’t be the drunkest, and definitely don’t be the most sober. Obviously you should hang out next to the 22 year old that is getting schwasted. Think of it as Harry’s invisible cloak while he is in the closet spying on Hermine… wait...what?

Don't mind me... just going to go hang out in the Mother's Room... like a creeper... dear lord Harry, I'm pretty sure that is a felony. Room for two?

8.       High potential, Type A doesn’t f&cking exist. Stop saying it. It’s a term utilized by consultants and other awesome employers to make you feel good about yourself that you are an introverted POS that has to run down cue cards to make a normal conversation. So just stop. Get in the mother’s room right now!!

How interviews should go. Instead: Quant, math, Quant, Cycling, Quant, disappointing love making. I swear if he had a bunch of ill motherf'ers we would make more money, be more efficient, and have a way better time. WHO'S COMING WITH ME?!?

9.       Don’t wear $hitty clothes. Keep your hipster haircut, or your marina/buckhead crew cut… just don’t walk into a meeting with bad clothing (wrinkled or bad quality). I will listen to you no matter your haircut, but if the homeless guy has less wrinkles in his clothes than you, I hate you.

10.   Octo: 8 is the magic number for any self respecting orgy (office or otherwise). Just look at this freak below who is ready to go. 

What a weirdo!!! But in a strange, enticing, sexually arousing sort of way... must be the pants. He is definitely looking for 7 more. 

Friday 14 February 2014

Happy Olympics and VD!

So much in the month of February! Love, Olympics, Presidents, Black History, White History oppressing Black History, my birthday, Snow in weird places in your britches, trips to Utah to find your LDS soulmate while killing yourself on a snowboard only to awake up drunk and alone in a hot tub…. Okay, well that’s for most people, but you are unique. Hugs and Kisses. So what to tackle? My birthday is next week, and that deserves a post unto itself; therefore….. Love and Olympics! First off, Russia… you need to go to my People and Change department and fix yoself. Who chose Sochi? Its 60 degrees! Sure, I have done stupid things for mistresses (looking at you Putin) but Damn son. Also, why did you insist on such tight clothing for the bobsledders? You know they go only one speed… but I thought the term was you’re your socks off.
Should have said no to that last dessert potato from the Sochi hotel… $hit… also drank the water. At least I chose wisely on the underwear. 

So the Olympics are going on, but I have no TV. Not that I am super upset, but its kind of Bull$hit as an American I can’t cheer my team on through the internet. There are Kenyans that have a village tv and they all watch for free… at least I think they do. I don’t know. Don’t care. Just gimme free TV!! How else will I question everything in my life while watching the paired figure skating and the dude does the credit card swipe hold on his partner envisioning the orgy that is the Olympic village? HOW?!?! Answer that Big Cable! You are bad as Big Tobacco… or Big Oil… or Big Lebowski. Fine, I take the last one back. Now… Valentines Day! The most commercial holiday ever invented by the CIA to keep rural teenage pregnancy high. I think I mixed history there, but it’s okay.

Don't know how you guys are planning on spending your holiday (Vday or presidents day... or the whole weekend), but I think these ladies got it figured out. 

 I could give you the normal excuses. It’s too commercial. Don’t tell me when to love. They don’t have steak and BJ day (March 14), so no Valentine’s day. My reason is simple. A. No one loves me. B. Its like NYE or any other holiday. I admit I’m privileged, I can go out, buy a steak dinner, a glass of wine, and not be swiping the EBT card next to the Clermont afterward. Valentine’s day is horrible because all the good restaurants become overcrowded. Big Restaurant (who looks like the hamburgler) knows this, so he just tries to turn tables as quick as possible to fill his fat oil soaked pockets with an overpriced prixe fixed menu that is easy to make, but lacks a certain jenesequa… yea, I said it, jenesequa, and your dad’s a whore. So, the whole holiday is horrible. Go out the day before, day after, just don’t go out or make a meatloaf cake for your live-in hipster lowlife landlord that won’t appreciate you for all the mannequin body parts you throw about the house (Ahhhh… now this feels like home).

Much like a hipster or anyone that takes biking to seriously... seems like a good idea, but dating Katniss? She gets you into all sorts of crazy shit, she is incapable of emotion, will shoot your ass, and loves someone else... how is this a good idea? Not saying I wouldnt... just saying, Normalcy can be nice.  A slice of apple instead of PCP. I tasted the apple, seems nice, stable, not going to cut me in my sleep.  



Or go out. Do what my buddy did a few years ago. His name is…. Not Mathew Mcconaughey. So MM  made a reservation for two at the nicest place in the AT (yeap, you caught me, waffle house), and sent a mass text out to not only every girl he was casually seeing, but to exes, their friends, Moms, daughters, friends that were nurses, morticians, you get the point. So, ordered a bottle of wine, and sat down. One walked in, lovely date till another showed, got angry and left, then another, and another. So this goes on for a while. He thought it was hilarious, but also didn’t get it on GOPRO; therefore, he is a liar that can’t be trusted. I just wanted it to end in a Mexican standoff. 

I fully believe all dates should end like this. But thats cause I'm akin to the machine that is Eastwood, so I can never lose. Especially with a cigarello hanging from my lip. Anyways, have a blast with VD ... Valentine's Day! Love ya'll! Really... I do, come find me, I'm all alone and its dark. Especially on this side of the moon. Damn that speculative Moon options derivatives market. 

Thursday 30 January 2014

Hothlanta and Snowmaggedon solved through the mysterious powers of consulting!


Hey everybody! I figured I would let the storm weather out in Atlanta before I posted another blog post. Okay, that’s a lie. I live in San Francisco. Its been beautiful, and honestly, if I wasn’t at work with my big boy panties on (read lacy boy shorts) I was out in the park… Grocery shopping. Whatever. Fact is its been 13 days. Far too long. On a side note, I actually started doing some real work, and thus my life got boring super fast. First, as a Star Wars fan, thank you for all the Hothlanta pictures. They tickled my tummy like a fine aged moonshine with burnt oak in the glass.


Welcome to Hotlanta where the TaunTauns play
And we ride on the T-16 like every day
Big lasers, set phasers, see troopers roamin
An ewok party don’t stop till death star is burnin


Also I know phaser is a Star Trek term, but F off, this $hit is hard.  I am going to combine the problems with Atlanta into a Consulting gig. What we have are several situations. We have supply chain management, Organizational change, people management, and other fun buzzwords that probably won’t get you laid during the Super bowl.

-          
My typical weekend date. I dont know if its the hair, beard, or constant crying and snizzling about my absentee kitty, but man, always getting destroyed. All of us! Maybe its a new cultural thing? You know where culture is not an indication of a serious serious problem. And yes, if its champagne or house wife wine... its not a problem, its a solution. 


First, supply chain. Guys. This happened in 2011. People were ice skating down peachtree. 2 in 3 years. Might be time to buy some infrastructure browskis. At least do a cost benefit analysis of the economy downswing due to time off from shutting down THE WHOLE F’N CITY  and the cost of a few snowblowers. In 2011 we had like 3 machines, now we have over 40. What was the problem? Sherman did a better job of melting the snow over 100 years ago. Granted… he also burnt my beloved home. Yeap. Screw you Sherman. Why couldn’t you just set Charlotte on fire? No one cares about that place. At all. Its not even hell, it’s a weird purgatory of bitterness and losership. But I digress.

The following is a quiz. This is either 
A. my friends in Atlanta during snowmageddon trapped at the office
, B. My Ex that hates the fact she chose charlotte and the carnie to live with
C. Me everyday under my desk avoiding my Manager. 
D. All the above, we are living in tears, wine, and work. 

We need policies in place. And don’t tell me they exist. Strip clubs have better policies (actually pretty strict ones if you think about it). Which comes organizational change! Hire GMs of strip clubs to be policy makers. I am just saying… this could be a game changer. And they would probably be less corrupt. Fine, you don’t want to hire my friends. Whatever. At least do the people management! Get a sister city in the north. Maybe a Canadian one. Then do a switch. They can have Kassim Reed, Nathan Deal, and Santa (cause he’s 'merican), and we can have whoever the hell is in charge of snow patrol. I still say we won.

Just think about what Atliens (people from Atlanta) could teach Canada! 
And then they will instantaneously teach the city how to fix the road system when we have 2, yes 2, inches of snow. 


Lastly, how do we pay for this? I mean the politicians bar tabs are so high as it is and lobbyists only have so much cash… well don’t worry. I got your back. Taxes. Don’t freak out.  I say we tax the hipsters. I don’t know why. It just feels right. Low income will cry foul, the rich pay taxes, so… I think hipsters should add to the economy. And no, buying Schlitz and flannels from ragorama don’t count as major contributions to GDP. Sorry. Now that people, is a motherf’n consulting roadmap.

Or we could just blow the mother up and start over. Just saying... I know a guy. 

Friday 17 January 2014

An Option Trader's guide to love

Happy Fish Fry Friday everyone! MTFU or whatever you got to do to lube those wheels of inhibitions to get weird, wake up next to someone you don’t know, and live life! So, for the past few… lives… I have been Dionysius, so trying to take it easy. I feel like this is a good time though to help out my friends with the years of knowledge I have gained attempting to turn myself into a successful business and sociopath. So today’s short topic! Guide to the opposite sex for an options trader: Protective Put.

Listen to me. I am an OG. For realz. Bitches be like options ya hear. Puts, Calls, Strangles, Iron Reverse Condor. Bullish Long Spread, LEAPS. All options, all sex moves, all the time. Plus when have I ever led you people wrong?


First, an option is a bet (think roulette) on the price movement of a stock. When the ball stops on red 32, well that is the time limit on an option, 32 is the price the stock had to reach for you to make money (if a call), etc. Now there is a thing called a protective put, and this little beauty can be utilized in real life as well as your dungeons and dragons stock trading games (NERDS). This strategy is used to guard against the loss of unrealized gains (half of you just said WTF, stop, just stop, tell us about your love life… consulting, but stop). Anywho, let’s say you have a handle of fireball, the bar is about to be empty of fireball, so you can sell it to that schmuck on the row team for double the price. You heard through your buddy Dave that the some friend of a friend is on the way with tons more $hit, which would render your fireball worth… fireball. But there are DUI checkpoints, so he might get F’d, in that case, the bar runs out, and you can make it rain fireball, dance with the gogo dancer, kiss that cute, emo-looking angry chick, and be the master of the night, you know, the Nosferatu of fireball. But that Ahole is smart, and sometimes gets through DUI checkpoints, so you agree to sell it to Andy in an hour for a good price (still profit), and that’s a maybe. You even give him a shot as down payment. Fireball shows up! You sell to Andy, Andy is slightly f’d. Fireball doesn’t show up, You make it rain like Usher at a teen’s birthday party. Twerk.


Andy will probably say this to you, but its his own damn fault. F him. You made your money off that fireball in an honest and godly way. He can go back to his $hit life, with his $hit toaster over, his $hit friends... you never liked him anyways. Why is he even here? God... If we could just have one day a year where you could Machete people in the face... life would be complete. 


Now the reason for the explanation is that this can be used for meeting that “special someone.” You don’t want to go home alone, but you don’t want to go home with a troll. Below is the chart that will save your life, check it out. Love it, details are below.



Try to follow me... Pink is the girl you are going home with. Time&money is X-axis, Hotometer is Y-axis. There, you came thank me later for your troll free life. No more beer belly frat boys for you ladies and no more "I might be preggo, thats why I love eggo" ladies for the boys. 


Pink line is the potential mate for the evening, or true love, or whatever. Alright the pink line is not really negative where it flattens out, but a “normally acceptable” situation. You know, you have hooked up with her a few times, she’s nice, but it’s probably not going anywhere (or if you are a girl, same thing, but he is a commitmentphobe… I mean, you haven’t even met his kids yet).  The nice thing about the flat line though is that there is minimum effort. This is the drunk booty text, the “lets hang out and get Chinese food in our jammies cause we have nothing to prove to our self-loathing selves.”  You move up the line, dreamy mcsteamy / Christian bale but not violent / Depp but not Tonto / Kristen Bell / Elize Coupe / Betty White, the more time, money, and effort you have to put in. Don’t lie, we have all been there. You want the gold? Start swimming, you aren’t Phelps, he is built like the jolly green giant, so you have to bring other attributes to the table. Like thigh high stockings. Old school style, Corsets, for guys: Suspenders, hipster hat, champagne. Also let me point out Attractiveness is not just physical. We are talking about your perfect soulmate (okay not really, but I don’t want judgment). So there you have it. I basically told you to keep a backup, and then make it rain in the club. You just read over 800 words of jibberish. But we spent some quality time together. Aren’t you happy? Also, watch out for the time decay of options. That $hit can kill any moment. 


Alright He-man, you have the power. What you gonna do? Ready for the weekend? Ready to ride? Rough ride or die like its the 90's! 

Tuesday 14 January 2014

Selling out: The real definition

Alright it has been two weeks since I made a post, so back on the wagon. Actually, I was taking a short break. 2014 is kicking me pretty hard socially and physically (but never work load haha). Going down an uncertain path I didn’t really feel like writing about. Okay fine, there was that, but honestly I have been drinking way too much, not doing anything interesting, and wondering how it’s possible for me to watch 3 movies a day while “at work.” There you happy? You made me cry.


In line with today's topic. I might not be a good person, but I am sure as hell better than you... dick.

So anyways, I think there is time for a serious blog post. I was giving advice to a friend (fine frenemy… double fine an ex), as she was having issues with her live in boyfriend. Basically, they didn’t like their lifestyle. I mean we don’t need to be shining like diamonds, but you know, premium toilet paper is a plus. She discussed the idea with him of studying hard, getting an MBA, and getting a 6 figure job. You know, bettering yourself. A huge fight erupted followed by disappointing love making (also in my imagination, he is a midget that rides tricycles around the house). Basically, he apologized for not being me (but do we really need the whole world apologizing for not being me?), and said life was his fault that now his woman (also he is a masochist in my head. A lap dog masochist… I know, makes no sense) was going to go to school, sell out, work for the man, to achieve the wanted lifestyle. Sell out. Work for the man. Words he actually utilized. Basically, to be me. Hate to tell you Jack-off. Working hard, getting a good job, is not selling out. It’s actually the selfless thing to do. And I will explain later. First though, Frack you (nerd love). You call me a sell out, and I call you a pathetic excuse for a hippie that no person could ever love, much less an intelligent god, or a woman… or a goldfish, and those fishes have like 5 second memories or some shit.


This is your life. Hopefully literally, but I will accept metaphorically as well. 

Where do people get off telling someone not to better themselves through education? I get the do what you love thing, but seriously, you repair tricycles in the Carolinas… you aren't exactly Survivorman or Into the Wild. You aren't even on Xgames. You don’t even competitively do what you love for a living. My friends that work at the plant are more in line with me than you. Cause you don’t really work. Do anything. Blue collar and white collar people hate you. Doing what you love, living off your parents, and not preparing for the future is what I consider to be selfish. You basically are a prick. What about your future family? What about taking care of your parents? What about siblings? Loved ones? Do you have any idea how much it costs to raise a kid? 143,160, and dude… that’s without perks, in rural areas where the kid will turn out as Shitty as you . Let’s add some things… say, you know, that my kid would get. Top private school education for high school. Hopefully the au pair can grant some knowledge on Bordeaux before then haha.  The best school in Atlanta (can’t even imagine San Francisco at this point) was around 24,000 a year. 96,000. I don’t know man… you might have to sell your Trek bike to pay for that…. That’s not even college. The average cost for an Ivy League education is around 50,000 a year. 200k. Do you even know what the K means Asshat? At a minimum, rural area, with a chance for your kid to actually do something great with his/her life (think Obama or Bush or Margaret Thatcher... or any character from the show Royal Pains)… you are looking at half a million.

My kid bad, my kid good, my kid got ROI that ya kid wish she could.

 Props if you get the above reference. ATL can you hear me?!? So yea. I’m a sell out for working my ass off for my future family. Well as you are… I don’t even know what you are doing. You honestly should just call it quits. On life. Or go full hippie. That’s the only real point that my friend (ex… whatever) could make. Was that if I wasn't being super awesome successful guy, I would be making documentaries in Cambodia. I tried. I applied for the Fullbright scholarship when I was 22 to document demonic possessions across the world. Didn’t get it. So… yea, guess that investment in my future is really selling out. … Bottom line. If you work for the man, sold out, etc. then really you are doing it right. The pathetic people calling you that are just placing rose colored glasses on because if they didn’t, they would hang themselves. Which, might be a less drag on the economy, but again, they are selfish. Alright got that out of my system. Everyone work hard! Better yourself! Love life! But most of all… sell out!

This is your future daughter. She told me her name was Trixie. This is what she does for a dollar, imagine what I can get her to do for a Toaster Oven? Sleep on that. 




Friday 3 January 2014

2014 is already trying to kill me. You couldn't wait... 4 seconds?

#1 resolution: Sneeze during an orgasm

Happy 2014 everyone! Thank god that Biatch 2013 is dead and gone. I didn’t even go to her funeral. I did however throw a full moon party on her grave the following Saturday with all my rave friends… cause that’s what we do in consulting. Raves. When we aren’t doing excel. Molly and excel. That will take you to new heights.  So new year. New adventures right? Well like 99% of America, I have new year’s resolutions. I know. I’m perfect. No need to change. Yada yada Scooby Doo. But we can always tweak perfection. Just look at Katy Perry’s plastic surgeon. Also, she looks a little like Jay Leno. Which I find hot. Maybe that needs to change… anyways, here we go! My second resolution was to take a step back, and just meditate on myself. Can you tell I moved to San Francisco? Truthfully, my recent foray into the House of Lies career and social life has taken a toll. I worry about crow’s feet, I think there is grey in my stubble, and my back hurts. That being said, what a hell of a roller coaster ride. So, I told my friends, I am taking a sabbatical. My body needs to rest. I’m going to be a good kid. Then when the countdown happen, it all went to $hit. I swore 2014 would be the year of Johnny, not Johnny finding love, Johnny working hard, Johnny doing anything. Just me.  A calm in the storm of life, but as usual, Life has other plans. So… yeap 2014, already quite the adventure. Met a nice girl, available I think, but of course, like a beacon, there are issues to overcome. Big ones. One’s I have no control over. So excited. F&ck these resolutions. Go for the gold. I’m back! Sorry… I knew you were worried. I will let you all know how this adventure down the rabbit hole goes. I would be more specific, but yea, the internet is fickle and seems to get my ass in trouble. One love people! I was gone for .001 seconds, then a new years kiss, long night, cuddling, hand holding (wear gloves people), and BOOM, back bigger than before.


This is why I shouldn't venture outside my apartment. Because this happens.... who is excited for 2014?!?


I remember being new at consulting. In this job, you have to “hotel.” You get to work, log into a machine. MACHINES! Then you slowly type a bunch of crap in until Skynet assigns you a cubicle. The problem is… most people don’t pay attention to that $hit. As a noob, you follow the rules. Then when you get to work you realize someone jacked your cubicle for the day but you are too new to say a thing. Not anymore Son! First resolution done. Kicked that girl to the curb and utilized her tears as coffee creamer.

Not my resolution. Give me a reason to be excellent to you and we will see. Until then…. Give me tribute. Also... we have eerie similar hair... I'll let you guess which one. 


Next on the list. More human interaction. I know, I probably need to stop that type of human interaction, my freezer is getting full of heads, but I meant just in daily life. Like the bus. I ride the Muni to work. The meat market bus. Yet, everyone stares at the screens on their phone. Our bus is filled with beautiful boys and girls people. Stop swiping right on tinder and Look up. I am right here! My commute is like the Buckhead Church of public transportation.  Put down your screen, take a look around. Soak it all in. Make eye contact. Now stop. That was too long and you are creeping me out. Also overall, I think I will just stop caring. It’s champagne and vicuna coats from here on out. If the girl is too old for me? I don’t care. I rallied at the end of 2013, but didn’t reach the finish line. Seriously, these women looked younger to me, and I am a dashing jake gyllenhaal type… with excessive body hair. Whatever. Shut up. Maybe instead of not caring, I should make my resolution to find what these women do to stay beautiful. Seriously, they look like they wake up and drink embalming fluid*. Thanks to Windy for that reference.

Probably not the answer to youthfulness... Also, looks like my NYE kiss. Yeap. Winner, winner chicken dinner. More than you know. Always had a crush on this actress too, so double win. Triple win. Double down KFC style heart attack. Thug life. See you punks in 2014! Get excited, or scared.