A Degenerate Paper

The first time I met John, the owner of Global motorcars, I was not quite sure what to think of him. He pulled up to motorwerks on a cold, overcast day in a roaring limitied edition SLR Mclaren Mercedes, one of twenty two to be exact. He throws the scissor doors up and hops out of this breath taking automobile. Hes wearing sweat pants, a t-shirt, and a cowboy hat; not exactly the attire you would expect from the driver of a car of this caliber. He walks in the door and introduced himself. He was going to be renting the front of our shop to sell and rent cars. John had all these crazy ideas of how he was going to change the shop and make it better. He was so aggressive in his ideas I was a bit taken back by him and kind of regretted agreeing to let him lease the front half of our building. When he left I was nervous about the agreement we had made with this man. The next few times he came in I warmed up to him and realized that he is one of the funniest people I have ever met. His company, Global motorcars, was a huge thriving company; John was exactly who I wanted to be.
From that very first morning that John hopped out of the million-dollar Mclaren grinning from ear to ear screaming “how are you! “ it was clear that this was a different bread of man. Within minutes he was standing at my desk with his briefcase sitting just where he had left it, the middle of my desk. As I stared at him in bewilderment he opens his briefcase and begins comparing his million-dollar ride to a Westheimer whore. His approach was instantly off-putting, I mean here is a man who has clearly been extremely successful in life but he is just so obnoxious. Obnoxious or not my jaw came to the floor as I realized what he was now pulling out of his briefcase. Cold hard cash, rubber-banded brick after brick of hundred dollar bills were just piling up on my desk. When it was all said and done he had over a hundred thousand dollars stacked in front of me and as much as I was still hesitant as to weather or not I liked him one thing was clear, I respected him.
Over the coming weeks my encounters with John became almost daily. At first he would drop by to take measurements of the shop and talk about the way he wanted to lay things out, but slowly he seemed to be coming by with less and less of an actual reason. As often as he would come by, it became apparent that he was not a man who traveled alone. I would watch out of the shop’s front windows as one of John’s cars would pull into the parking lot trailed by one or two large dark SUVs. The men that he seamed to be surrounding himself with were an oddly eclectic bunch, many of them were ex-cons covered in tattoos but there were all kinds in his entourage. The fast talking salesmen, the coked up party boys, the protection, the collectors, and he took care of all of them it seemed that even his busboys where wearing handmade Italian suits. He had it all, the whole works. What was craziest about it though was that each and every one of them worshiped John they were ready to die for him. They would come in talking of drug binders and wild party’s that they had thrown in John’s honor all over the world. They respected him so much that he no longer did anything for himself; if he felt thirsty he would pick up his cell phone select a random contact and hit send. When the person on the other end of the line would pickup he would bark an order into the phone along the lines of “cock-meat sandwich bring me tree bark.” Within minutes one of his guys would be at his side with his ice coffee from star bucks just the way he liked it.
John’s bold approach to life was what made me question whether or not I liked him when I first met him. It seemed to be such a detriment to his character, but as I got to know him it became clear that his obnoxious style is simply his brand of comedy and that he is actually one of the most sincere and generous people I know. One of my favorite memories of John was the day he showed up out of the blue in some low priced SUV that he had recently bought in a car auction to check on the status of a few of the cars that we had been working on for him. He got out of the car with that magical briefcase of his and set it down on the curb outside. I was blown away at the fact that he would leave a bag full of cash out on the side of the freeway but he didn’t seem the least bit worried about it, he walked in asking to see his three Ferraris that we had just finished customizing for him. I took him back in the back of the shop and he looks at me and asks me if I can do him a favor. I eagerly agreed knowing that there was never a dull moment around John and what came out of his mouth absolutely shocked me. He said, “Here are the keys to the Ferrari’s can you and your friends follow me back to my office on the other side of town.” I was so overcome with joy that my body began to tingle, we walked out to the cars and started them in unison. The roaring formula one inspired Italian engines filling the air with their songs and my two friends and I grinning from ear to ear the entire way across town. That day is a day I will never forget, riding around in a convoy of Ferraris has a way of lifting all of ones senses. Thank you uncle John.

Its 5:30 in the morning

5:30 AM on a Saturday morning, doesn't sound all that impressive in a day in the life of a degenerate. When you consider that I went to bed last night instead of going out, when you take the time to let it sink in that while I could have been drinking hurricanes and listening to live music or sitting at my table at the palms surrounded by hundreds of my closest friends, when you really examine the facts I just seem crazy.

Money Money Money Boosting My Moral

I woke up this morning feeling great, I suppose it was in large part due to the fact that I was in bed by 10:30 last night. Regardless, I was feeling even more optimistic this morning then most. I have found that since Degenerate Days is starting to become profitable, the first thing I do in the morning is check to see how much money I made in my sleep. Yesterday morning was the first day that I discovered this amazing ability, as by eight am Degenerate Days was already well on its way to having the most profitable day in its short history. All of the revenue reports were already showing record daily income, and I simply couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. Keep in mind the revenue that we are talking about here is still minuscule in the grand scheme of things, but I do think it is beautiful that while we are in the midst of one of the worst global financial meltdowns in history I am being paid to put my thoughts on paper.

I do understand that my success is directly linked to my readers, so I have decided to do something in return. If my online endeavors continue to be profitable for one year, I will write an entire post on the steps that I took to set everything up. You can do with my information what you please but I will try my best to lay it out in as replicable a way as possible. I have a million ideas for online businesses and my ultimate goal is to devote a year to learning what works and what doesn't. If all goes according to plan though I will be in all kinds of markets in the very near future, and this blog will be more for your enjoyment than anything else so continue to read and enjoy life through my eyes.

Drinking Like a Degenerate

While thinking about what this morning's topic would be I remembered a long night of drinking that took place in august. It was by no means a normal night, the night began at a friends house where we each drank a few bottles of Boone's Farm. I believe the vintage du jour was Strawberry Hill, my personal favorite in the product line. In years to come I believe that the nights I will look back at from my college days and remember above all else are the nights where we drink like homeless people, an activity which certainly takes years off of our lives. Nights focused on the cheapest things in the liquor store might not sound as alluring and glamorous as my typical night out, but this is a story of the American dream condensed into a single evening.

It was a Thursday night, I remember because Thursdays were the days that we would all get drunk and hold dance parties in the living room. We started around ten and hung out at the house until around midnight, at which point we walked down to a local bar and proceeded to start ordering drinks. The progression from vagabond to citizen started here with a bud light, at $2 a bottle you really can't beat Bruno's pricing. As the hours passed and the alcohol took its hold, I decided to throw my homeless days out of the window and move into high society drinking. The drink was scotch, Johnnie Walker Blue on the rocks with a lime was the call and the feeling was unmistakable success. To drink Johnnie Blue is a privilege and an honor, I am reminded of this with every gorgeously peaty sip. The aroma of fresh lime interlaced with the smoothest scotch in the bar is one that, once experienced for the first time, is longed for for the rest of your life.

At this point in the evening I had managed to transition my drinking from the finest offerings of Boone's Farm to the flagship of the Johnnie Walker range, but I wasn't done yet. We made our way to the palms where things were about to change in a very big way. I walked up to the bar feeling alive and ready for anything. I generally wasn't a fan of the Palms, I had always felt the ultra inflated egos of the alpha males who frequented it was a huge detriment to the establishment, but this night little could get me down. I looked over the selection behind the bar to figure out what I could possibly drink to best the scotch I had been drinking for a few hours. It was at this time that I noticed a bottle menu resting by the cash register, the bartender made his way over to me and asked what I would like. My response was brief and to the point, "A menu please," it was about to get interesting I could feel it. A quick glance over the menu left me in shock, I had never bought a bottle in this city before and had never bothered to take a look at the prices, everything appeared to be on clearance.

My smile grew to a full blown grin as I made my selection. "A bottle of Dom Perignon please." The bartender looked befuddled, rightfully so I suppose as I was wearing a tshirt and shorts and had just ordered the finest champagne in the house. As soon as it hit him he quickly turned and got a VIP hostess who would take care of me. I was whisked through the crowd and shown to my table where I was told to relax while this gorgeous girl went to retrieve my bottle. In the moments before my bottle arrived it was pretty clear that the people in the bar were trying to figure out what it was that I was doing in the VIP, I was not a regular at the Palms at this point by any means and as I later learned it is a bar frequented by a pretty steady flow of familiar faces.

I enjoyed my experience so thoroughly that I began going back on a very regular basis. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship between myself and the Palms, as the evenings passed the staff came to know my face. Within the first two weeks I was addressed by name whenever I walked in the door, and the regulars started to ask questions about who and what I was. The questions amused me, as I had tried to live as low profile a life as I possibly could through my first years of college. I was always horrified of the idea of being robbed, now I worry much less about my appearance whether I have on gym shorts and a tshirt or a suit and tie I keep an eye on my surroundings as always but now I suppose I have just relaxed as I have come know two things; One being robbed is not the end of the world, for anyone but the idiot who tries to rob me. The second being the fact that I now feel confident in my ability to find anyone who decides to be so brazen.

Personal security concerns aside, my evenings have been changed for the better by that amazing night. So much so in fact that last night as I was sitting in another establishment having a drink with a friend a song started to play, my friend leans in and tells me that the last verse by 50 cent was about me. I sat back and smiled waiting to hear what he could possibly have to say about me, sure enough the verse was great and as he was finishing it up I was surprised to find a gorgeous woman running over to give me a hug and a kiss. Sure enough it was my first VIP hostess from the Palms looking stunning as always, she had seen me sitting down and decided to come over and say hi.



The song that was playing.

Life's Been Good Lyrics

Life's Been Good
-Joe Walsh



I have a mansion, forget the price
Ain't never been there, they tell me it's nice
I live in hotels, tear out the walls
I have accountants pay for it all

They say I'm crazy but I have a good time
I'm just looking for clues at the scene of the crime
Life's been good to me so far

My Maserati does one-eighty-five
I lost my license, now I don't drive
I have a limo, ride in the back
I lock the doors in case I'm attacked

I make hit records, my fans they can't wait
They write me letters, tell me I'm great
So I got me an office, gold records on the wall
Just leave a message, maybe I'll call

Lucky I'm sane after all I've been through
(Everybody say ?I'm cool?......?He's cool?)
I can't complain but sometimes I still do
Life's been good to me so far

I go to parties, sometimes until four
It's hard to leave when you can't find the door
It's tough to handle this fortune and fame
Everybody's so different, I haven't changed

They say I'm lazy but it takes all my time
(Everybody say ?Oh, yeah?..... ?Oh, yeah?)
I keep on goin? guess I'll never know why
Life's been good to me so far

Yeah, yeah, yeah

A Letter from a Fellow Degenerate

Overdraft fees. We all have them; we all hate them. Why do degenerates encounter this problem every month, and more importantly how do we avoid this? Not only are they extremely costly, but very annoying.

With most banks in the shitter during this credit crisis, they have stepped up their over drafting as a means to make ends meet. At 40 dollars a pop, these pesky little fees add up, and add up fast. On an average month, the typical degenerate will over draft his account anywhere from 3-6 times, which means nearly 200 dollars a month in the toilet.

Over draft protection is another scam some banks are tying to pull. They sign you up for a line of credit (with intrest rates upwards of 20%) and make it extremely difficult for young degenerates (like my self) to obtain this credit. I have come up with some possible solutions for this extremely serious issue. Why cant banks just link your checking account to your credit card? I have an answer for that; it would just be too easy. Banks are making a killing on stealing money from their clients and they quite frankly don’t want it to end.

The Third of the Month

As I mentioned in the ramble that was Sunday's post, the first of the month is a day we look forward to whole heartedly as it is the day that our bank accounts replenish themselves. Well the first of the month has come and gone and with it so has my bank balance. This morning as I woke up I enthusiastically checked my online bank statement to see if google had sent me my adsense verification money, to my horror my balance was an even zero dollars and zero cents. I quickly clicked to check the account activity and try to figure out where the hell my money had gone as I hadn't spent any money since the first of the month, that I could think of at least. Sure enough there they were, charge after pending charge.

The volatility in my damn accounts is so violent its ridiculous, over a 72 hour period my accounts go from the top of the top to the bottom of the bottom. Luckily I have been putting together a slew of websites to help supplement my income and even out my account volatility. You can rest assured that as the other sites start to take off, and content begins to be posted this site will be riddled with links to my other sites.

In other news I am getting excited about my trip to the Cayman Islands, my father has rented a house in a remote area of Grand Cayman with a private beach. I don't remember when the trip is scheduled for but I know that it is in mid march, so expect updates on that and understand that I probably won't be able to post for about a week while I am there. When I get back in the country I should have a bunch of great pictures as compensation for my absence though, as when my father and I go out of town we tend to bring the Leica collection with us. Actually that might make for an interesting future post, look for a brief overview of our Leica collection in the future.

Now I'm off to figure out new ways to make money, if you have any ideas feel free to leave a comment.

Understanding Craps

Played with a pair of dice, the game of craps is far and away the most thrilling game in the casino. For a first timer it can be quite intimidating though, as it is a fast paced game with a language all its own. I will not attempt to explain all of the rules and odds in this post, rather I will focus on the experience as a whole. If you are interested in all of the rules and odds you will find a link at the end of this post which covers all of that and has an online game you can play to practice.

I will start by saying that my favorite place to play craps is at the Wynn in Las Vegas. The dealers are lively and engaging and the players tend be full of energy. The energy of the table is a huge factor for me in playing craps, before I begin to play I tend to stand and watch the floor for several minutes selecting a table that is surrounded by people yelling and cheering tends to be a great start. Once I have made my selection I approach the table, purchase a few hundred dollars in chips, order a drink from the lovely cocktail waitress and then I wait a few rolls observing the players around the table. Once I have a feel for the table I place my passline bet and watch for the point to be set. If the point comes as a six or an eight I bet the odds considerably higher than I do for anything else as I like those two numbers the most. I also like to have a few dollars a piece on each of the hard ways. If the point is not on the six or the eight then you can be sure I have placed bets on them, but depending on my mood and the feel of the table it is not unheard of for me to have money on all of the numbers.

Explaining my love of craps is difficult without first explaining a few things about myself. I have found myself to be an odd split between a very social and very private person. I am not quick to trust new people and generally do not let very many people into my personal space, but as my friends know for those I love I will do anything. As much as I tend to prefer to keep to myself during the day, I love going out at night as the staff at any of the nightlife establishments that I frequent can attest. I love nothing more than a fun filled night out with new faces and old. Going out is the one thing that I do where I don't mind crowds, loud noises, cigarette smoke, or having drinks spilled all over me. When I'm out I don't have to worry about a thing it is the most liberating feeling on earth.

In many ways craps draws on those same feelings as going out. The liveliness of the people, the overwhelming reserve of energy and overall fantastic high of the oxygen rich air its all just intoxicating. I tend to play for hours on end without thinking about anything but the game, a truly rare occurrence for a person who's mind is constantly racing. I suppose it could be said that I find a calming peace in chaos. I'm not sure what that says about me but I definitely think it is a huge factor in my choice to live such a fast paced life. Regardless I think it is worth mentioning that I do not view craps as a way to make money, rather I see it as an expensive activity that brings me tremendous joy. As with every other casino game the winnings come easy and make you feel invincible, but at the end of the day the discipline required to get up while you are ahead is not possessed by most and certainly not by me.

A few craps links for you to take a look at:

history of craps
wizard of odds

The First Of The Month

Before I get into today's topic I would like to point out a few things. The first thing being that I am quite hungover from last nights debauchery (the photo to the left was taken while I was attempting to write this post). Fitting isn't it that the post to follow the bottle popping addiction is being written the morning after a big night at the palms. A magnum bottle of belvedere and two bottles of veuve have a tendency of leaving a mark especially when by the end of the evening you find yourself drinking from the bottle so please excuse me if today's post is completely incoherent.

The first of the month is every degenerate's favorite day. A chance at a fresh start, a revival of sorts; it is a day that we covet above all else especially towards the end of the month, it is after all the day that bank accounts get replenished. Sadly though it tends to be a short lived high, as by the third of the month the bank accounts are generally overdrawn. Ironic isnt it that most degenerates I know have the unique ability to boast business degrees and have no interest in fiscal responsibility. I cant hold onto a train of thought long enough to type any more my head is going to explode. So instead I will now just resort to giving you a stream of consiousness from a degenerate in his natural state. The word hangover is a mystery to me, where did it come from? I don't know, who cares. My house is such a mess, oh well. I love that everyone I know bought GE stock. It seems like such a well diversified and solid company with tangible value but share price continues to tank. What is GE at these days anyway, like eight bucks a share. As John would say I wipe my ass with that buddy. I love John. He serves as a role model to us all. I will leave you with a few videos to watch and the promise of a more concise post next time.



I can't even focus enough to find more videos so I will leave it at this, I bought a bunch of lottery tickets last night. $173,000,000 prize goes to the winner... thats a lot of bottles.