The Debt Speedball: Here by all readers shall be informed that according to U.S. copyright law, publishing original content on the internet is protected! Purpose: Quickly build savings Pay off debt within three years Build an opportunity fund to gain financial independence All readers are welcome to use the plan, but are not authorized to use the name and/or teach the system for profit! However, I encourage all readers to share the system with someone in need!!
First of all, to assuage the legitimate concerns of any conservative leaning readers that have yet to block me I receive no government assistance of any kind including medical care, food stamps or any sort of government benefit including disability or social security.
Income & Expenses: Minimum payments on all credit card debt currently stand at approximately $250/month. As luck would have it, after food, rent, etc. my BAM - bumming around money for Cheech and Chong fans - is $240 I do not subscribe to Dave Ramsey's authoritative (abusive) demeanor, so I will not be taking any fucking "baby steps." I subscribe to the Astronaut Theory; one giant step for me is a step in the right direction for mankind!!
PURPOSE: Log my own journey as I take advantage of the opportunity of being born in this great country with a friendly tax system Take full advantage of the tax code as is the responsibility of every great American. I have not listed my student debt, and will detail how I am skirting that responsibility, when the time is right! Before I tell you how I did it (remember, I am not disabled) I first need to: pay myself first get out of debt build an opportunity fund For any conservative readers who get angry, fuck off!! If it's good enough for the Prez (all of them, not just the Narcissist in Chief) and their Wall St. Cronies, bankers and legal drug pushers - well - it's good enough for me!!
Debt: Chase (closed account last month) - balance = $2930, minimum payment = $88 Credit1 (closed account last month) - bal = $710, min payment = $38 Cap1 (open) - $500 bal, min $25 Cap1 (open) - $750, $25 Amazon (open) - $2125, $72 Student loans - $12,800, minimum payment = zero (I have not been registered as a student since 2016 and have no plan to return any time soon, if at all.) If you have ever read the self-help book, "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" you may have a clue as to what I did. However, I will not confirm or deny any plausible guesses until my three goals are achieved. God forbid they change the rules!
On the fifth of every month, I will account for the $240, BAM, as to whether that goes to savings, an expense that is either unexpected or planned, and my progress. Do not hold me to the exact day. Trolls are welcome but I will not respond. Although I can say the only people on my ignore list are vendors; only a few - not even most of the fine financial contributors to this awesome site.
Planned expenses: I have several through the end of the year. The debt snowball: alternate months: pay myself one month, debt reduction the next The planned expenses will be covered by the months I pay myself How does the system work? Savings will snowball as I pay down the credit card balances with the lowest minimum payment Debt reduction will increase as the system gains traction I have one built in reward when the only bill left is Chase When I get to that point my savings will be at a level that I will pay that final debt down in consecutive months Once I am debt free, I will change the system to save one month and follow that up with two months for an opportunity fund (save 1, pay 2) That's all for now! Progress Report: Checking balance $39 Savings $101 Debt: no cards paid off (except for the $750 debt that was paid last month - not listed here)
1997: I had just quit my job. This time it would be for a noble purpose. When I reflect on the era, there was one positive moment that was worth the head ache, heart ache and heart break. It was a brief in encounter with a self-made, multi-millionaire. His advice has been rolling around in my head for the last 20 years! Advice that I will be putting to good use; thus the opportunity fund. *** First. A little back story. I had been with Waste Management for three and a half years. At that point in time it was the longest, sustained, uninterrupted period I had ever worked in one place. I was going crazy. Maybe, just maybe, I was crazy. At the time I had delusional thoughts that a bearded hippie was about to return on the horizon carrying a golden staff and riding a white horse. The end of the world was at hand. I was a Doomsday Deacon that preached from a motivational, positive perspective - but impending doom was my catalyst. "Boy, Johnny can sure get them to the altar!" My friend Clyde said that while sitting in the audience, loud enough for the 75 in attendance, to hear as the masses heeded the beckoning call within their Spirit. Very few people were left in their seats. Yes, I capitalized man's inner Spirit as others would capitalize God. But for those in the know, we all have that spark of divinity. At the time I didn't know. In fact, I knew very little. However, there were two things I knew really well: the garbage business and multi-level marketing. No, I would never become rich through Primerica but I would learn how to sell. I used those techniques to bring people to Jesus. My promise was heaven on Earth. I also knew that it was more important to make the mark want what you have to offer as opposed to selling them what you were about to offer. Make them thirsty. Tease them. Entertain them. When done correctly, the mark is begging you for your services. I learned those techniques from Julio Agostini - a Primerica legend. We spent a lot of time together driving throughout Florida preaching with the Prison Crusade - founded by Abe Brown. Maybe the only two people in the Church that I still respect. Well, them and the self-made, multi-millionaire who I encountered only briefly. The day that planted a seed, twenty years ago, that is just beginning to take root today. It happened on a brief car ride to pick up a heartfelt donation from a college student - given to a Pastor. It was that brief ride that would change my life! Yes, I am speaking future tense right now. Even though I do not subscribe to the exclusionary nature of a Church that denies the evolutionary adventure of mankind - and even man himself - I do subscribe to the principle; God calls those things that are not as though they are. If that's true ... There is a quantum nature to man. This is not name it and claim it. If name it and claim it were true, God would be at the mercy of our whims and probably tweet his own #metoo moment. #Metoo moments are all to familiar to me as a former member of the Church. Deacons hiding despicable acts because the victim was a child, a woman, your daughter and maybe even your Mother. That's what we did. PRAY for the perpetrator as they begged forgiveness and PREYED on their victims. *** Look. I am not innocent here, either. "Jodie, watch out for Johnny, he preys on vulnerable women!!" Gotta give him that! Pastor Hector was right. However, my victims begged for it! And let's not forget that they were of legal age - and then some. Well, except for Carrie who was only legal by a couple of months, but can you blame me? Probably so! Especially if you were in the Church. The methodical madness of judging everyone who calls God by a different name than Jesus while covering for sex offenders, kidnappers and other Despicable Deacons. Preying on a vulnerable woman of legal age is not illegal. However, it is despicable! I will give you that! He who is without sin should not throw stones. That's a trick. The Pastor will surely heave boulders in the direction of anyone who crosses him and upsets the money cart. But ... I will throw stones; at those who harmed others under the covering of a false religious structure - a celebrity fueled cult that rivaled Scientology - Without Walls International Church. So as Pastors Rob and Jennifer Mallan are spreading gossip about me, the WWIC is celebrating Rob. Sure, they ran a background check. So did I. Rob was convicted of kidnapping. He served years in prison. According to Rob, it was just a lark. Btw, Rob was the youth Pastor. Ironic? No. Criminal! Or at least it should be. Unlike Rob, I do not fake the funk! Fuck that PUNK!! Bitter, no. Not hardly! But it was a period of heart ache as I watched the Church cover up sexual abuse that was committed towards Pastor Paula's son to protect the Order. Hollywood subscribes to the fact that there is no such thing as bad publicity. At Without Walls, well, let's just say you didn't want that to get out. If the Pastor's wife's kid was in danger, that could affect attendance. More importantly it could affect the offering! **** The love of money. The root of all evil! That's what they say, right? My problem is that I don't love money. Especially when I figured out how to get the things money buys by getting a good woman. *** "Johnny, what do you do?" My response was that I walked on water. Heather, a beauty of all beauties! On the outside. Even on the inside. It was during my time with Heather in 1993 that I went back to work. We were sitting in Church and the lady preacher (google Rita Twiggs if you want to hear some good, old school preaching) said that if a man does not work he should not eat. That's what I love about the Bible. It is not tied to one truth. Although Jesus' brother James would disagree with Rita and Paul (an abusive authoritarian) I decided to get a job. A job that God ordained. He must have. After my interview at Waste Management I was headed to my car. It was there that I ran into Odell Mingo. Odell was my connect in a previous life. Odell had the "butter." Stones so big they wouldn't be out of place at Mt. Rushmore. "Johnny, I haven't seen you for a minute." Like I told Odell, who would have thought we would run into each other at a legitimate business. Even more disconcerting was the fact that we would both be living respectable, citizen-like lives. "Johnny, I will put in a good word for you with Brian." Back then, we had answering machines. Not even voice mail. When I returned to my modest condo in Carrollwood there was a message. I was hired! It had to have been a miracle. If it wasn't it just goes to show the power of relationships. I would be driving roll off for Waste Management making about $900 a week. My tithes were higher than my taxes. The Church fed the poor, helped the homeless and reached out to the inner city. Truthfully, I didn't mind working. Or giving. In fact my time at Waste Management far exceeded my time with Heather. I had moved on to Jodie. Moved on to a front end loader. Now, I was about to take a leave of absence to help an evangelist - Bazil Howard-Browne. You may have heard of his schiester brother, Rodney. I didn't know at the time. *** It seemed like a genuine move of God. At WWIC a lady came to the altar while Randy was preaching, took off an expensive pearl necklace and laid it at his feet. Then another lady followed suit. Followed by groups of three, five and even eight people. Randy knows one thing. How to seize opportunity! He stopped preaching. The giving continued. People were crying. My heart began to beat faster. Give your most valuable possession, your Thompson Chain Reference Bible. It wasn't the cost of that 50 pound Bible; it was what was contained inside. I had been preaching for several years at the Lighthouse Revival center. In those small margins were notes from the heart. Words that would trigger my red hots - the ten sermons that were sure to stir a crowd. The kind of preaching that caught Randy's attention. "Johnny, I want you in my Timothy class." It was a class for aspiring preachers to learn the ins and outs from everything that it takes to build a Church dynasty. The Master. The Mentor. Bishop Randy White. A few weeks later, something would happen to begin the change that soured me on the Church. By this time I was a licensed minister and I preached at the youth pod of Hillsborough County Jail on Friday nights. On occassion I would preach at the city jail as well. I had a monthly spot at the LHRC in Riverview. I had a heart for the never do wells who simply want answers to life's toughest question. How do I live the American dream? Nice cars. A pocketful of money. A beautiful honey? *** "Johnny, I quit my job at Bank of America. I am going to work for Bazil Howard-Browne." "Cool! If you need a good secretary, I can type 60 words a minute." If I was closer to Diane's age I would have dated her. The sexual tension between us was obvious with the way we would lock eyes, flirt and sometimes brush against one another. However, Diane had her wedding dress picked out. She was looking for a husband. I just couldn't see myself with a woman over a decade older than me. Nonetheless. I was hired. The first time I met Bazil was at his house in Cross Creek, near Hunter's Green. At the time his house would have been appraised at around 300 grand. It paled in comparison to Randy's house in Cheval; which is nothing compared to Randy's house on Bayshore where he currently resides. *** The ministry was moving to St. Louis in six months, so I took a leave of absence from WM. My pay would only be $400 a week. I wasn't there for the money. I was there to help. It was interesting being on the inside of an evangelist's ministry as I would enter the donations into the accounting program. Checks came in from all over the country. We called those people partners, ahem, marks. In return for those monthly checks I would send out cassette copies of a recent sermon and a form letter to our partners. It was a great deal for the marks. Bazil didn't really preach. Hypnotizing music would play as he made the congregants laugh with humor normally not associated with preachers. That part was refreshing. The gimmick was to work the marks into a lather so laughter would begin to take over the congregation. The Pastor of the host Church would lay on the floor and laugh. By that time, it was over. The marks had no chance. Even I must admit that it happened to me, twice. The marks would become hypnotized and mesmerized. On this particular night Bazil was playing to the home town crowd in Tampa Bay. A similar movement began with an elderly lady laying what appeared to be hundreds of dollars on the altar. Followed by what appeared to be a college student. He dropped a pair of keys. The giving continued. Jewelry, heirlooms, cash and prizes. *** "Johnny, take this bag of jewelry to Orlando. Get it appraised. Wait there until he cuts you a check." Boy, that sure was a different life than what i was used to. Here I am with a freezer bag, see through mind you, full of jewelry that nobody knows the value of. In my sole possession. After the jewelry is appraised, I head back to Tampa with an envelope full of cash. Damn. It was definitely a different era than my previous life. Once I realized it was a cash deal, I realized something. This entry would never go into the accounting program. It was mine for the taking. However, I knew. Don't fuck with gangsters. I would not have stole that cash anymore than I would have attempted a robbery of Clemente's liquor store. 12 guage buckshot is akin to being blasted with a 45, 8 times. With a higher velocity to boot! Not me. I don't fuck with Gangsters. [Disclaimer: Clemente's is a legitimate business that dabbles in cashing payroll checks, the garbage business and construction. For those who say otherwise, do so at your own peril.] However, we all knew, "Don't fuck with Clemente's!! The pieces were coming together much to my dismay. Heirlooms were in that bag. Expensive rings, a couple of watches, and even a cross or two. All jumbled and thrown in together like like an orgy of people's hearts. Their souls, if you will. *** "Johnny, tomorrow we need you to give a ride to Dominic. Someone donated a car." As it turns out, that ride woukd make the heart ache and heart break worth while. Doninic and I were on our way to pick up a classic car from storage. A candy apple red, 57 Caddie, fully restored. As it turns out that college kid came from a blue blood family in Tampa. That car was his grandfather's and had never been driven by anyone outside of their family. Another heirloom. Dominic was given the task of selling that car with the proceeds going to the ministry, ahem, the Evangelist. The gangster! His weapon was God!! Much more of a powerful motivator than a gun. The marks were begging him to take possession of their hearts, souls and heirlooms. However, it was worth it! *** "Dominic, how did you retire so young?" Dominic would volunteer at the ministry but every day ended at noon no matter what was going on. When we had a mass mailing, ahem a fund drive, volunteers would come in to help with the Pitney Bowes machine. It might take two or three full days. By this time the ministry had moved its office into Diane's apartment. They would be going to St. Louis soon and it saved the ministry a coin or two. When Dominic would leave Diane's apartment the Church ladies would cackle and call him lazy, etc. I never joined in because he would always make the same comment, "As a teenager I promised myself that I would never work past noon after the age of 40. So, here we are. Me, driving Dominic in my new Honda Accord. Dominic in the passenger seat with his 10 year old truck parked at Diane's. "Johnny, my wife and I got married young. We were both 19, only a year out of High School, we needed furniture. Our families were poor. They couldn't help us." At this point I knew I was in the presence of a Master. Dominic had my attention. His answer to my question was a story. "I found a couch in the classified ads that peaked my wife's interest. It was only a $100. When I got home I looked at my wife and asked, 'What makes this couch worth $100 instead of $200?" "That's where my business started. I would buy furniture that we needed and immediately run a classified ad for double what I paid for it. That led me to eventually owning a 5,000 square foot home that doubled as a furniture showroom for factory direct, high end furnishings." Dominic retired at 36. At 42, here we are in my Accord. Dominic was true to his word. He never worked past noon. I let that story marinate until just before we reached the storage facility. I had to make good use of my next question. "What is the one piece of advice you would give to someone who wanted to follow in your foot steps?" "The most important commodity at your disposal is time." When in the presence of a genuine guru, even the simple, direct answers are not so simple. "How so?" Silence on my part. An answer was requested, not guarenteed. "Take my business for example. My wife and I were young. We had little money but a lot of time. We bought furniture from busy people with a lot of money. Tons of money and little time. You would be surprised by the deals you can get when people would rather take your offer than have another 10 strangers trapesing through their house." He opens the door. We marvel at the candy red Caddie. Today, I marvel at the fact that it took so long for that seed to take root. *** Thus the Opportunity Fund. It's not enough to just have time. Like Dominic explained, "You also need to have cash in hand when opportunity presents itself."
The Debt Speedball: The endorphin inducing effects of drugs, exercise and laughter can be produced by the brain's natural reaction to a sudden financial windfall. Instead of using cocaine and heroin, we SAVE money one month and PAY DEBT the following month. If one simply tightens their budgrt to a degree that takes all the fun out of life, they may backslide. similar to a conscientious dieter without a "cheat" day. The only drawback is not having the bragging rights of a martyr. An old friend used to say crack was for pussies. He would shoot up cocaine followed by a shot of heroin. After hearing his war stories, I assume he was right. The Debt Speedball is a similar concept:
Pikes Peak Windshied Repair: To purchase a car wash or laundromat I will need at least a 100 grand. Would you believe me if I told you I got close with Google options? The problem is do I believe I can get that lucky again? Over the last four years I have attempted four businesses. One was profitable, with a low financial bar for entry. The others were more expensive than I had anticipated. However, look at this. I have seen a few windshield repair businesses in Colorado Springs. One left a flyer on my jeep. One is setup on a main road that is traveled to and from the mountains. Each repair is actually low cost, so you get paid for the work - $50/hour. However, if this is a route I choose, I would actually go door to door and only knock the doors where there was a visible repair that was needed. Each repair costs about a dollar if you round up. From what I have read, the process is easy to learn. No need to click the link but the best kit they have to offer is about $1250. Company shirts Hat with logo Register w/BBB Offer the first few repairs for free if they will sign a pre-written letter of reference upon successful completion of the job.