Discussion in 'Chit Chat' started by johnnyrock, Jul 20, 2017.
Can't way for the free copies for your loyal readers at ET.
Make sure to add yoga and meditation!
The 3bt is an "all" day trade to take advantage of teens days. Not the case today.
[Too tired to edit:]
Vail: A Deadly Journey,
It's been three days since I told my Dad I was homeless. I finally heard from him. As a former detective, I am surprised he had not figured it out, by himself. I had been honest with my Mom and the only reason I finally told him was because I had lost my keep.
America's motto was work, work, work - but work was not my answer.
It would have provided a solution to an immediate need. It was not the answer.
However, to all but very few friends - Jeff aakd Chevelle - getting a roof over my head should have been my number one priority. Both of these friends are African American. I only day that because the friendships lasted for decades, through the good times and the bad times.
Marshall has moved on. He is an electrician with a family; dogs and everything. Dogs may be the last thing we have in common now. Even Marshal believes that without police we would have warlords. Sometimes I long for the freedom that sort of society affords one. It is not just a luxury, it becomes a necessity.
We touch that primal nature within ourselves. But I was lucky enough to be alive and I knew it.
I had read that Buddha had required his disciples to beg - some might say Jesus was a beggar - in order to humble them. My Father had a different word for that.
"Johnny, your a bum."
Just because my Father was blount didn"t mean he didn't love me. Buddha has his beliefs. America has the it's own.
Cultural, maybe spiritual differences.
@vanzandt said a hard life gives you character. @speedo said that I had just taken the first step. If you are a member of a church, synagogue or 12 step program, I do not mean to offend. But that is not that they were talking about.
I cannot honestly say.
There I go again. Mixing a potentially interesting story with my bullshit. That's all it has ever been with me. I was going to con the educational system. In a sense, I did. But the reality was. I was lucky to be alive.
If you scroll through this thread you will see two pictures. In one I am sitting, filming a documentary about changing the educational system.
I was only there to have documentation of exactly how I looked. The only black shirt I had was the upper half of a thermal set. I would sleep under the stars, in the CO winter fall and winter. But I was lucky to be alive.
In that pic you will see me with an odd grin. That is the Mona Lisa smoke. It's non commits and is a technique I use when I have been sandbagged. I was caught off guard, not necessarily in a bad way.
Six months previously I had decided to forego work. I would use the last but bit of cash I had - I am a better spender than a saver, an in the moment kind of guy - but I have always used communication hacks to get by; with or without hard work.
Not only was I lucky to be alive, but I just made my first $75 as an extra in a film. I have no desire to be Morgan Freeman, but let me be an extra in Sanford and Son and you can count me in!
But that is not true either.
The Craigslist ad was bait! I won't defend what happened except to say I have never hated teachers, but my expansion experience has shown me that they show up in all walks of life.
To the guys at Peterson Corp. In Tampa, I say thank you for your service. Not just for raising a young man, but giving him that cock suredness to run wild - in the middle of Carrollwood, a suburb of Tampa.
I just heard Chicos closed.
Anyway, I thank my Dad for giving me that stick - the courage to run with a pack of dogs. Friendly, loyal, authentic! The same freedom I had when I ran with a pack of road dogs - but I have never been up the road.
So I have been around some rough characters and freedom was out bond.
I am so close to going off the rails preaching the need for revolution I must say this, nah, I won't. Keep those guys on their toes while I exercise my freedom - a right given by God, confirmed by our Founding Fathers. I am drinking tea as we speak. Let's start the revolution!
When you have faced death and survived, only then can you live. When you meet a cancer survivor they have a quiet strength. Much like someone who saw combat.
Do you think it's any wonder why Magic Johnson is constantly fined for tampering. Well twice, but this time he was just talking, celebrating a player. He not only has fuck you miney, but the disease that was supposed to fuck him got fucked! No shit!
Now - picture this. You are a documentary film maker. Your goal is to show the dire state of our current educational system and what we can do to fix it. Your plan is to have a mock classroom and give outsiders the opportunity to see what a classroom is like.
Here is what I saw. $75 and a chance to be on film. That would be the only way I knew for sure. But I was certain - just as I am now that I made the right decision.
But truthfully I knew I could teach a class. I knew I could speak with the cock cock suredness of a dime a dozen dictator. I knew the power of imagery.
This would be my test.
But the reality was I knew I was lucky to be alive. Before that experience in the depths of hell, otherwise known as Gage Vail, my brushes with death were just that. Accidents that could have been and almost were.
Sitting, parked in Sandee' s car slamming beers before the movie.
"I thought you were someone else."
When I looked down I saw him pulling a gun out of the open window that had been down near my side. I had my back turned. Sandee Sander and I were in our own little world.
The other time was when I jumped out of my car in Tampa street - after dark - to avoid a seat belt ticket. The officer free down on me. Thank God he was one of the good guys!
Even though that God seems to be constantly begging for money! Damn Bum!!
Now if you are in the business of getting a know it all to show how hard teaching is you have hit the jackpot.
I had no desire at the time to be in movies, still don't, but I actually agreed with the film makers. The only problem is I suffer from the crisis of credibility.
However, there is a legitimate way to get it. Author a book! Problem is, that fuck Randy White - or dare I say Cuck if by chance Randy does an ego search - taught me to do things in a spirit of excellence.
But I have noticed something - successful people read this journal - which beats witness with the research. The most prolific readers are wealthy, sometimes healthy and wise. The other factoid is that they are often women, but I have no shot there.
When my Father called me a bum it was three days previous. The email I received on the day of filming was that the fishing trip was canceled and I was no longer welcome in his house.
I couldn't a afford a Men's wearhouse sport coat. But notice something. Everything I preach is on the film. It can be found in YouTube. It's a great film.
I am wearing clean, white shoes, nice jeans and that thermal.
My camoflauge was the city. It out me at odds with the homeless, but I needed to fit in at the coffee shop or hamburger joint. As they rustled the homeless out (and we spent more money than anyone) they would leave me be.
I chose black because it covers a lot of flaws in television. I was actually on a vegetarian, mostly, diet because who wants to give homeless people a bunch of protein. Socks you will get. That and a lot of rice, beans and eggs. As it turns out that may very well have you looking like a super duper model, but I like the way I feel when I eat meat! Cock strong, not like a super model!
But if that's your thing and you are an expert write a book about it. Give it away to a sympathetic audience until you get 100 reviews. The star rating is always sympathetic even if the comments are harsh. Put that shot on Amazon, for free, until you do.
There I go again. Teaching people as I go along. As it turns out one of the best ways to gain mastery is to teach others.
I have learned from all of you. But you know what. Until the BOSS writes a book I will just have to take the word of someone who might know. The rest of that is bullshit.
Find the movie. Judge for yourself as I am ambushed in an interview. Not in a Michael Moore way. Only that I would hear some really disturbing news!
Much worse than the what my Father had emailed me. That's when I put on the Mona Lisa smile.
But on the inside, a little failure wasn't going to stop me!
I am attempting to write a comedy routine and that is the hardest. Johnny Rock is the character. A trickster. Entertainment for the Gods.
But there is a part of that movie I did not expect. My true payment.
It was the natural me. Encouraging someone who set me up, a whole profession actually. But it was not just what I said. It was the way my eyes out up, that devilish, boyish smile that I realized, it has never been about how I looked. It was how I made people feel.
The director uses a cinematic technique to capture the moment. But the film is full of good moments. Great moments!
But I was lucky to be alive.
I was at the Springs Rescue Mission rating the best rice I had ever had! They have a training program where they teach homeless people a skill. A local chef overseeo the program. Thank God! Or at least that Chef!
Sitting across from me is a talkative female who is with Gage. I never saw her again. That would not be the only missing person.
The three of us make plans to go to FL. My father had no idea I was homeless. I was out of cash, but that was not why. It doesn't really matter, but ...
It's hard to explain what happened. Imagery is part of the con, but reading people is the key. Whether your goal is to push someone's buttons to hustle him or ask that girl for her number - or something important like knowing when to just ask for the signature and get out of dodge.
There is a time for everything. At least everything you have a shot at getting. Then for the rest you don't waste your time.
Gage Vail was probably about 5' 9" talk. Almost my height. Slender build. Not a lot of protein in those kind of streets. Anything to keep the masses docile.
Gage only appeared docile.
"Johnny, are you a tough guy? Can you handle yourself?"
Like Sub Tszu my answer is fluid. If you are overmatched show strength. Feign weakness to invite an attack.
I did not know him, but this was an odd conversation to have with a stranger.
"Nah, not really. I pretty much leave people alone."
Although being tough is relative, out there I considered everyone armed and dangerous. Everyone had a knife. I carried a hatchet. Shock and awe, baby!
It was in my pack, but God forbid I should use it. But my Dad taught me. If you pull it you use it. He taught me never to run!
Life taught me to follow my guy.
I tried once to change the subject, but Gage was making a point to tell me he carried hot shot.
Not a bright idea in my book, but maybe he wants me to know not to fuck with him.
SStrong arm robberyain''t my thang, but definitely not as homeless dude.
Why is he telling me about putting a finger in someone's eye.
So about this time I realize I need to get away from him. I knew I wasn't going to FL with this weirdo.
Other than that you might consider him charming.
The following morning we are at ESM. Everyone was. Get that shower at 9 am! Ain't that a little late for people with jobs?
He asks about FL? I deflect but am Bob committal. This is early October Gage has his bike and the same shorts and tee he had on the day before. Up walls a nineteen or twenty year old. Gage bolts over to her. I am just not having enough protein to entertain that thought either. They leave together before the place opens.
I would run into Gage later that day. Dressed the same.
"Where's the girl?"
Gage would go on to tell me that the two of them went to the mountains.
If you tell me you have to wash your hair or baby sit the dog, I get the point. Even a bad trader sometimes recognizes when he is being lied to.
He would go on to tell me that he went by himself. It's been about seven years but I remember him telling me she went on her house and did not my come out. Maybe it was her Mother's house.
I could get that. So for now this is just another dude lying about some chick. Now that's something I am used to. Just make it a good story. Maybe give the story a moral fiber that outlines the core. Nah. Tell me how you had her bent over and her titties were flopping!
Okay. Back to normal. We hung out for the remainder of the day. He begins to show me pictures. Each female is laying down on her side. Naked. Photo from the rear each time.
Three, four, five girls? Can't remember, but one is off unless she was having a conversation with her lover.
Now my gut is churning! Fuck, they make movies about these people!
Contrary to any part of my upbringing I would do two things a man does not do.
The first thing I did was drive to Commerce City. For two weeks I watched movies with the truckers at the TABLE. Sleeping in my keep at an independent truck stop about two miles away. Eating my meals in the restaurant. Showering every few days. Buying a few items out of the storm.
Now I am broke. Out of gas. Not yet hungry. I need to get back to Colorado Springs where the food is. Trees. Somewhere I can camp. My insurance is due. Registration is due. Brakes are squeezing. I think I just heard metal grind.
Get a job? Nope! That was not my answer.
When I returned to the Springs, Gage had made the paper. He took a 30 lb rock and dropped it in Darren' s head, after pelting him with smaller stones, until he fell down. Darren is a red belt in karate and everyone on those dirty streets had heard how Darren beat up two guys who attacked him. Now that's a tough guy!
I am glad I went to Denver. My suspicions were confirmed. I went to the police.
The second thing you don't do. Nobody snitches. Truth is, people get paid tosniitch. Others do it to get out of trouble.
Now a target is on my back. Conversations between homeless people are out in the open.
Murderer? Rapist? Child molester?
I'm gonna say something.
Risking life and limb. Gage would shoot himself. Now, I was a marked man. I wore the Scarlett letter of a snitch.
Even my Dad said, "Nobody likes snitches." He told me that as a young man in High School. I wanted to know what he thought about those snitches in the Air Force that played the most important role in every drug case he made.
But he also taught me the difference between being a good citizen and a snitch. Good citizens make the community safer. Snitches, well, they end up in ditches.
So when you call cops heroes, I don't!
They know the secret. Don't snitch on yourself. Videos of black people getting shot by the police will never matter in a court of law. Cops benefit from that and the halo effect. When questioned, they look sharp, dress sharp and speak- If at all - concisely.
So my battle with them remains.
If a homeless guy could do it with nothing to gain, why can't you?!!
I guess if one were to ask I believe I am stuck in two decades, music wise. I love the revolutionary tone of groups like Bad Company, the truths hidden in a song that trumpets the pride we have of being born in the USA. Hidden in plain sight. I know the power that certain types of music has on my being, jazz, classical. I identify with the anger of a Chuck D. So I am kind of stuck in two decades. The 70s. The 90s.
People change. Revolutionaries become Republicans. Democrats become Divas. Can't we all just get along?
But there is something to be said for the man that will put his own comfort, stability and wherewithal at stake. We call them heroes!
My heroes will always remain musicians that have power to influence the mood of stadiums. Nobody leaving without knowing they got their monies worth.
The garbage man who picks up our trash to stave off the plague!
The teacher or coach that inspires. The music teacher that everyone laughed at, but inspired a modern day cellist.
The self help guru who awakened people to themselves.
No longer is it the preacher who will fight with his ex wife in the media over chairs. At the same time a child molester is on staff molesting Ron and Jennifer Mallans kid. Buy the way. They still have not revealed the culprit.
Another #me too moment.
My heroes are not Generals who cover up spousal abuse, because the kid is kind of charasmatic. ... The monsters always are!
My heroes are the comedians who made me laugh as a child not those who cover up predatory behavior in their midst.
But that is what do easily happens in the church. I have not revealed anything beyond what has made the news.
Thankfully, I do not have to lead that fight. I was part of the church too.
By now, you know who my fight is with.
This is not the rantings of a Unabomber and his manifesto. This is, possibly, the delusions of grandeur that affect people with my disorder.
I had been homeless for about seven or eight months and college kids mixed with a large percentage of homeless in Colorado Springs had occupied a children's park. The reason I say children's park is because the two parks that have fountains are like a kids park in the summer. Families show up and the kiddos are wearing swim trunks. You realize how important water is. During the week I might smoke a bowl with gill, but when you are homeless you don't need to be at that park.
But for a week or two those good hearted revolutionaries had that park on lockdown. It was Acacia Park.
These knuckleheads were occupying Wall Street. I wanted to stop by and point them to the First Bank building to at least get them going in the right direction.
So I wandered over to the information tent. These were the millenials who were preaching the gospel of Wall Street being the curse of the 99%res.
I am sure that I looked just as foolish then as I do now. But like I told that kid.
"Wall Street is the best chance you have of becoming free."
Now I would add so many other things to that list it is ridiculous. If you spend a lot of time on this forum and are not making a living from trading, you could only add to those ideas.
But beating Wall Street is the best hustle going. I love the freedom to hear bear arms, but if the government turns on us, those bastards have tanks. Fighter jets.
The entirety of an imperialist system is on their side. You can't fight city hall.
Not with guns.
Not within tanks
But you can fight with the law. That takes a ton of money though. Even then, you can only fight within the confines of a system where etiquette is valued over truth.
You know where they used to fight the good fight? In church!
It was the summer of 2016. Several Dallas police officers had been killed by what appears to be a gunman. REVOLUTION was in the air!
To be honest I felt/feel bad for the families of the police officers but don't have enough information to base an opinion on whether that was karma or not.
However, I did go to school for five or so years in Bossier City, LA. East Texas. The gun racks sported axe handles, not a deer rifles.
Country boys will survive, but they seem to thrive on making life a living hell on black people.
With a retired veteran and police officer in the family, I get that. Just doing their job. But I have a jailer in my family along with a small town police officer. Nice people. All three. As far as cios go, pretty good I guess. Not racist for sure and none of them were itching to shoot somebody.
So I felt the pain in both sides. I was about two seconds from being engaged to a black chick, but I just wanted the pussy a few more times so I thought it was a God idea to let Linda act like a jewelry store clerk looking fr me about a ring I bought.
The last time I saw her I saw the thousand yard stare. She also had rapidly gained weight. If there is a hell that is enough for me to be there!
We met in Church. You know, the place where the good guys are.
I had yet to start advocating for that young girl - not so much for her, but against them, the CSPD - only because her story was more powerful than my shady past.
The police department denying the freedom of information act.
So I show up to the one place that has the best chance of affecting change. A black church who feeds the poor. The place where I believed MLK would show up.
Churches that feed the poor have goodwill with the people. A black church because it was an issue affecting them. A black church because this particular place has a little open Mic time to testify for Jesus.
I had something to say, ... [keep in mind that my beliefs about God were the same as they are now]
"Jesus said I am the alpha and the omega- alpha being the first letter of the Greek alphabet, Omega being the last
What Jesus was saying is that I am "A" to "Z" and every letter in between ...
"A ... he is the author of my faith, he is my advocate, he us rhe almighty
B ... he is the B - I - B - L - E"
Working my way through the alphabet in such a way to compel them to listen. Names of Jesus from A to Z. Working the marks into a lather.
This particular church has a mentorship program similar to the one I had completed with the cuck master, Randy White. Ask him about Jody and me. He surely wanted all the surly details.
But the point is, those people can talk; they can move the crowd. I have moved hundreds at once. Close to a thousand as my lips trembled. But the crowd was moved. To a room full of Pastors that were shaking handkerchiefs in my face as if I was Td Jake's.
"Johnny, I want you in my Timothy class."
I was in the wrong place. I had conversations with the parishioners before the service and one thing was apparent. That was not an issue affecting them.
But after hooking everyone with the bait, I set the hook. I spoke as best I could to see if revolution was in the air as I had thought.
Regretfully, I am not MLK, but I did see Selma. I have watched documentaries on the black Panthers. At one time there was a group called the white Panthers.
If there is one thing America can get behind is a feel good story. We grew up on Rocky movies. We love a comebcomeback. Wall Street is my best shot. A close second - desire wise - is to channel George Carlin, but that seems impossible.
Write a self help book along the lines of The Greatest Salesman in the World or The Richest Man in Babylon.
For now my hope is in the 1bp and 3bt. I am working on everything else.
I never had a mid life crisis. The crisis was the wake I left behind.
How do you bring about a modern day revolution? I don't know, and if one of you figures it out, let me know and I am in! Until then, I will just keep following the lead of my idols.
After all, America loves a movie moment!
But boy... if you make a movie.
Write a song ...
Author a book ... You have money to feed the poor.
Just like David in the mythology that has spanned milleniums, you can build an Army from bandits.
The truth is. The revolutionaries were the geniuses who gave us these stories. And when you can tell a story, well, at least you have a chance.
[Sorry about the lack of editing in the previous post. There is nothing to see there. ]
The dogs who rescued me:
Growing up in the generation. That has since been crossed out - quite possibly the most disaffected and disillusioned group of never do wells to exist.
Gordon would move on to become an electrical engineer, Marshall an electrician- Larry too, he got that opportunity because of Marshall - and Petros would make decent money as a banquet server in Vegas - not bad for someone from Ethiopia.
All people who would stick by me even though I was the only one, over time to never do well.
Everyone that knows Johnny Rock knows what it is like to be let down. But let me tell you about someone who picked me up; I was only joking around.
Sandee and I had a steady diet of potatoes and straight up sugar! Russian vodka. Captain Morgan. And the breakfast of champions - tang and everclear.
When you are young you can eat all of the major food groups: alcohol, pizza, potatoes and oranges. Oranges only because it was Florida and there are oranges everywhere. For free or a small fee.
Petros calls me Jan or Hippy guy. He is unable to pronounce John correctly, or maybe he has been fucking with me for 30 years. Petros voice will always show enthusiasm when he hears my voice.
Sandee Sander and I lived at Riverplace Apts., the cheapest rent in town that was located on the Hillsborough River. You could take your boat to Ricks on the River. Great seafood and hard drinkers! An odd couple for sure. Whether it was a Saturday afternoon with your friends or Friday night when you might be looking for someone with a kindred spirit you could find someone whose idea of fun was drinking and water sports. Take that however you want! If its good enough for Like and possibly the Pres I am not judging anyone at Rocks. My kind of people. Good looking. Tan. The only smell overpowering the seafood was the smell of money.
Riverplace Apartments were clean
Had a responsive maintenance crew. Modern layout for the time. The only problem was that it was located right next to a crazy house for teens. Teens that have committed because of drugs, suicide attempts or whatever. In reality it was the safest place in town. You can imagine the uproar if those kids escaped the cages they were in. The fence looked more akin to a prison camp than a facility to help them. For me and Sandee, that was a deal
In reality we could have been those kids. But we knew better than to strike up a conversation. The kids knew better too.
So I was joking around about being malnourishes, but for a college kid - junior college for sure - there were no ill effects. Sugar. Salt. Water. Vitamin C. Starch.
So basically you have gatorade, oranges and pasta - if one were to think creatively. But one thing I have found. Don't joke around about being hungry with someone from a country known for people who go hungry.
Petros not only showed up to the apartment with a bag of groceries, but he cooked dinner for us too. Now, that is a friend! Almost 35 years now.
I would not meet a friend like that until 2013. I was in the early process of putting my life together, but I had made some changes for which there was no return.
"Johnny, you walk through life with a flame thrower om your back."
It was important I did not cross certain bridges again. Roofing sales, partially. A big fuck you to the system definitely.
Well, I guess I could get this tat on my neck removed but that would defeat the purpose.
But I wasn't sure what. So I find myself taking jobs from the labor pool. Taking low paying inside sales jobs.
Nothing that was more than a tool until I could actually afford some tools. Buy a truck. But I was nowhere close yet. I just knew that I would put my energy into working for me.
I was willing to buy my freedom. At that point I was still a slave. A truck can help a man become free! Add that to the list of ventures that can free one from the bondage of making someone else rich.
However, unlike a real slave, the modern day variety had the ability to freely choose where they live, for the most part.
Like everyone else I want to live in a drama free neighborhood with no crime.
When a neighborhood is populated with retired military and contractors, only the dumbest thieves in the world will enter one of those houses. Either that or the most brazen. Of course the reason those dudes take the risk is because of the almost certainty those houses have guns. Not my kind of risk and the one time someone attempted a home invasion in Stetson Hills, that CO native went looking for them in his red pickup truck. He was not hiding! Who knows if he served at Ft. Carson or if he is like most of you; protectors of our castle.
The court Jester does not live in the castle unless it so deems the King or Queen.
That was the day I answered a Craigslist ad. Room for rent $300.
That was the day I met the loves lives of my life, Teddy and Darla. The dogs that would give me the motivation to stretch myself! The dogs that taught me once again to be part of a pack.
I won't say much about Eddie or his family as to not tarnish their reputation in this town as associated of me. Long story short, Eddie was the best storyteller I ever met. As a former Hells Angel, Iron Worker and Army bet he had some stories to tell. He would pass within the year. His family, in love for him, would take up the slack.
I would find myself the proud caretaker of animal royalty. Look it up. There are hunting dogs. Attack dogs, maybe. Royal dogs. My pomeranian princess and the bison bear. Bred for royalty.
So the decisions I make now are for us. But like God, they were there for me when I could not rescue myself. To be honest, they have not had the easiest time since. They are poor now. We are working to get out of the situation.
But more importantly, with them I can go through any situation.
Petros is a friend that I truly consider closer than a brother. Petros and these two dogs; the dogs who rescued me!
JR: Hey Alex. Welcome back to the show.
AJ: Hey Johnny. I'll be easy on you today. My wife says I have been a little rough.
JR: No worries! You said it yourself. It's takes a lot of confidence to be a cuck.
AJ: I did say that. So why did you have me back? Are you trying to make a name for yourself?
JR: Not really. Before we get into the topic, I heard Lionel on your show.
AJ: You mean Ludd from Plant City?
JR: Ha ha. Those were the days. An active district attorney making crank calls to Bob Lassiter's show.
AJ: Yeah, but it got him out of the rat race didn't it?
JR: Anyway, great addition to your show!
AJ: My wife's waiting in the car.
JR: Speaking of your wife. Was she really an escort?
AJ: Looky here Johnny! I'll whoop your scrawny ass!!
JR: Calm down Alex! That's the most Christ like thing you have ever done!
AJ: Don't blasheme Johnny! That's fire!! I might kick your ass for God!
JR: Just sayin' that God told Hosea to marry a hooker.
AJ: Cool! You're comparing me to a prophet. I'll use that in the show.
JR: Maybe. You talk a lot about revolution on the show. That and the NFL.
AJ: Well, I played H.S. football and blocked for the dude who scored all the points.
JR: I see what you did there! Are you running inteference for Trump?
AJ: You have lost all credibility. What is it you want kiddo?
JR: I am older than you Alex. Seriously, are you blocking for Trump? The only guy in America scoring all the points.
AJ: Damn. Another drop for my show. Whose side are you on Johnny?
JR: I have to be careful. No telling when they bring back the sedition act.
AJ: Johnny, my patience is wearing thin.
JR: Explain to the audience the premise of your show.
AJ: My two major influences were the maddog and the Von Erichs.
JR: The wrestlers?
AJ: The showmen! Talk radio host and a wrestling dynasty.
JR: Its an act?
AJ: No, a show! Nothing fake about it.
JR: So, the revolution is real?
AJ: Ha ha. Nope that's the show.
JR: So, what were you alluding to about the NFL and the New World Order?
AJ: We call them globalists now.
JR: The jews?
AJ: If you want to be successful at this, you need to do more than piss people off. You need your own language. A code.
JR: So what is code for Jews?
JR: The elite?
AJ: Nope. Thats code for entertainers.
JR: Like you?
AJ: Enough you wannabe Socrates! Let me tell you about the symbolism of the NFL. This was one road that led out of the projects for black kids. These bucks were used for our entertainment. We made billions. They made millions. It was a contract with America.
JR: No doubt! I love the NFL. It sure helps pass the time. But what is it you were alluding to? The anthem? The flag? Patriotism?
AJ: Johnny, this is why you will never be me! You can never see the end from the beginning.
JR: That and I am constantly hitting celebrities up for money.
AJ: Yeah. You might want to stop that. Bet you learned that shit in Church.
JR: How to beg? Yes.
AJ: Its better to beg from the common people.
JR: Yep. Promise them something like eternal life.
AJ: That or a raging hard on! Maybe promise them weight loss. Maybe youth.
JR: Supplements. I'll call mine Johnny Rockets!
AJ: Now you are getting it. But you have to give them what they want. Just rebrand it. Like my current NFL theory.
JR: Can I take it from here Alex? Luxury boxes at Professional ball games have become the new Bohemian Grove. Secret meetings are held in an exclusive environment that is invitation only. When you see Jerry Jones smiling, he is plotting. He doesn't seem to be putting any energy into a losing franchise. He defends an abuser of women as he has done for decades. Faces change, but the mantra remains the same. No different than Bobby Bowden or countless other coaches. We knew the sheeple would stand by as we flaunted rapists and those who would perpetuate violence on a woman. We protected our guys like the Generals protects his soldiers or the El Paso County Sheriffs office will protect those they love at the expense of those you love.
AJ: See Johnny. You lost them. Be concise! Get to the point.
JR: I know. I will do like Jesus.
AJ: Okay. Now you got it. Ask a question
JR: Couldn't think of a good one. So I will just make the point. It is no accident that the "Patriots" dominated football at the same time our country doled out Patriotism like a Doctor handing out opioids. Anything to numb the pain of broken families, shattered dreams and unspeakable loss; the fuel that propels the American economy.
Is it any wonder why the Eagles won this year? The home city of freedom? The home of the cracked liberty bell?
AJ: You got it Johnny. Revolution is once again in the air. Bet on Philly, keep practicing and most of all give the fans what they want.
JR: Thanks Alex. The next episode? "Johnny gets his ass kicked!"
AJ: Now you got it Johnny!
My journey to the dark side,
Kevin Davey was actually profiled on a website that reviews trading systems. He was one of the few who provided audited records to back up his claims of success.
Hmmm. Audited records? Not canned trading advice from the likes of Larry Sugar?! Some people play on the internet, for decades even, giving unsolicited advice gleaned from trading books, diet blogs and how to be manly podcasts.
But, what the hell. We all can't be Larry Sugar! Still waiting on the "trading" book from @lawrence-lugar, aka Larry Sugar.
A Denver Roofing was one of those rare opportunities to glean knowledge, know how and wisdom from people that I had not experienced since Church.
Without Walls International Church. Tampa, FL. The 90s. An opportunity to nail trim and learn the age old art of sheap shearing.
Without that experience I may not have ever made it A Denver.
Nick had flown me up to Denver to take his place as the canvassing manager. The pay was only $400 a week; any Subject To's that I personally signed would give me 7% off the total profit of any job and the sales rep would take care of all the messy details.
That was my plan.
The icing on the cake was $50 for every appointment set. Not bad for three hours a day, but I wanted more.
It is not that my condition prevents me from feeling fear, anxiety and all of its physical manifestations.
That's not it at all. I am just like you.
I have conditioned myself to power through discomfort. A necessary byproduct of being a man who came of age before social media and Craigslist gave us the ability to order from the sexual buffet at a moments notice with a few clicks and an upload or two.
Call me old fashioned but I love the personal interplay between two people - or even a group of individuals - of different backgrounds.
November 9, 2009.
Nick and Diana picked me up from DIA. Like a child, I had that same excitement that I enjoyed whenever we moved to a new AFB.
Snow covered the ground.
That in itself warmed my heart.
"Johnny, I need to drop by a customer's house."
Diane waited in the car.
That would be the night I met Courtney. I was on a roll. Batting 100% in the place that I would eventually call home.
Nick had given me the moniker, Johnny Rock. When it came to influencing people - and separating them from their hard earned cash - Nick was a Rock Star.
When it came to seperating the Insurance company from their obscene profits, Nick was a Hall of Famer.
That's how the system is set up. The biggest con going outside of Church.
Only actors, musicians and Pastors have people clamoring for their attention with their hard earned cash. We buy them cars. Leave estates to them when we die.
Why? Because of the way they moved us, emotionally.
My secret weapon, emotional fluidity.
A face that appeared as though it would cause no harm.
Nick had moved on to another company. We were partners for a few months before he left. He was given the opportunity to beome a sales manager from another company in our building.
That is when I partnered with Jim.
Nick and I had a similar work ethic. Similar interests. We could just as easily end up in a bar on Friday afternoon as a clients house.
Work never really seemed like work. At least not with Nick.
The best day we ever had was signing 12 contracts in one day. Most days, it was closer to 12 drinks.
Catastrophic storm money is like drug money. It flows like an untapped keg.
With Jim, it was work. My job was to get contracts signed. Jim would oversee the build. That was part of the con.
Jim and I had a falling out because I would rather work two to four hours a week.
Look, a deal is a deal. By that time I could get a contract signed fairly quickly. Unlike Nick or Troy, I could not sign everyone.
However, Church had given me the gift if sheep shearing.
As we enter this holy week I thank God for that gift.
My work ethic was at an all time high. Although I was getting Subject To's, I was subject to my own inexperience.
However, I had a plan.
Cascade & Bijou. Colorado Springs. The home of the T-loc. Who knows how you even spell it? All I know is they don't make them anymore. So did every other roofer. Local and from parts unknown.
One trick I used to get contracts signed when I was the canvassing manager was to take a pretty, female canvasser with me when I knocked on the door. I would dress the part of a salesman and the pretty girl was the bait. Dudes would open the door. Ladies were more receptive.
However, I was new to the Springs. Jim was knocking his iwb doors with an occasional canvassing bone thrown his way from Deke. Deke, a Colorado native, from Denver. A Superstar!
Not knowing when I would get my next windfall I rented a room from a hotel on the shady side of town.
As luck would have it a family from Georgia was there. We shared a bond that revolved around weed, telling stories - and more weed.
Tyler was 16. Good looking. Sleight of build. Southern manners.
A recipe to build trust. Non threatening. I paid him $10 an hour and $50 for every signed contract.
Be seen and barely heard.
Easy money for him. The bait to get my partner back. Jim was 6' 4" and an arrogant prick - not to me, the customers.
So here we are. The historic district of Colorado Springs. Two story mansion. $80,000 car in the winding drive.
The only problem. There was no hail damage.
That doesn't really matter. Just like in Church people want something for nothing.
I write on the contract: Subject to insurance aporoval and Subject to insurance pricing.
The only way this works is if American Family signs off on the work and buys the roof.
"Jim, can you meet me at Cascade and Bijou. Down the street at the 7-11?"
When I see Jim he is wearing cargo shorts, he is beet red with sweat pouring from his brow.
We were both working harder than either of us wanted.
"Did you notice those mansions?"
He nods. He does not look like someone who wants to kiss and make up.
"I have a signed contract but there is no damage. Do you mind coming over to the house and taking a second look?"
If I want something from you I will make you feel like a Rock Star.
Jim, legitimately was. 12 years as an Am Fam staff adjuster and an equal amount if time chasing cat storms across the U.S.
Those old mansions, down the street from the eclectic looking Colorado College, have a roof that is harder to navigate than Pike's Peak.
"Johnny, when you meet the adjuster, you never know. But, my guess is that if you put the ladder here and give him the drawing you might get lucky."
"If we get lucky, do you want to build it?"
As it turns out, we got lucky. The staff adjuster that showed up was hungover and did something no adjuster does; not only did he use our measurements but our pics as well.
Without going any further I will only say this is the town I made home. Even though the statute of limitations has run out, I am in a place where I finally quit running.
Fresh starts and fresh meat are a thing of the past.
A resurrection if you will.
3BL, 23rd; 3BH, 26th:
Ignore the initials. For my reference until I can explain it.
Separate names with a comma.