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Iggy Azalea – Ghost Writer or Artist? Will it affect her bottom line?
There has been a lot of controversy surrounding Iggy Azalea. Some of it has to do with her appearance and some of it has to do with her lyrics. There have been rumors in the rap industry that Iggy uses a ghost writer.

Specifically, the accusation that her mentor T.I. has ghost wrote many of her songs. But does it matter?
The newest accusation against Iggy comes from fellow female rapper Nicki Minaj. Nicki won an award at the BET awards and when she was accepting the award she insinuated that Iggy does not write her own material. This is publicity and will only help both rappers. Nicki is the top female rapper and she is taking notice of Iggy. It’s common in the Hip Hop world for competitors to get into public arguments. This dates back to the old East Coat v.s. West Coast rap feud. The good thing about this controversy is that neither Nicki or Iggy are gangster rappers so there won’t be any violence. Some rappers like The Game and 50 Cent and Nas and Jay Z used these feuds to become superstars.
This sort of controversy won’t hurt Iggy Azelea. Take Beyonce as an example of a successful artist who uses ghostwriters. No one cares that Beyonce doesn’t write her own songs. All people care about is if the song is good. As long as Iggy and her producers keep choosing good songs and making good music, then she is going to sell records. Her feud with Nicki is only going to add to her popularity. This type of feud helped other rappers such as Nas, JayZ, Eminem, and 50 Cent.
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Real Estate Customer Life Cycle
Recently, my wife and I have been searching for new tenants for our rental property. That’s an irritating customer cycle. We’ve had more no-shows at the showings than we’ve had prospects show up. Most people who call seem to think that the rent on a 2 bedroom, 1.5 bathroom house with a big yard and a 3 car garage 5 minutes from downtown Minneapolis is going to match their little subsidized Section 8 apartment.
Not going to happen.
So we keep looking. In the meantime, it’s interesting to look at how a real estate trainer breaks down the life cycle of a customer.
Enjoy!
NEC Online Degrees
What do you do?
You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your ******* khakis. -Tyler Durden
“What do you do?”
They typical answer is usually something like “I’m a computer programmer.” Or a DJ, a cop, a barista, a stripper, or whatever.
The answer is always given in the context of work. Is work the center of your life? Is your career the most important thing you have? For many, it is. Our jobs become a fully integrated piece of our identities. Even when we pay lip-service to putting our families first, all too often, we spend more of our waking hours working than actually living.
We spend 40, 50, 60 hours each week at our jobs. It’s natural for that to become a part of us.
We go too far.
I am not my job. I am not my career.
I am a father, a husband, a writer, a blogger, and more. I have hopes, dreams, and ambitions entirely apart from my career.
I hope you do, too.
The next time someone asks you what you do, try responding with your passion.
“I’m a parent.”
“I grow freaking awesome roses.”
“I travel whenever I can.”
“I obsess over politics.”
Leave the tradition work-centric script behind. You’re going to confuse the people who are expecting it. They think they are asking about your job and you are responding with something that truly matters to you.
What do you do?
Lost Kid
Losing a kid is terrifying.
Aside from impromptu–and panic-inducing–games of hide-and-seek while shopping, I’ve misplaced a kid three times. My oldest walked out of the house twice when he little, once to find Mommy at a neighbor’s house–he didn’t know which neighbor–and once to find Grandma, who was in the backyard, but he thought she went home. With the first, a fireman got him to my wife. With the second, we knew he was gone within a minute and guessed where he went. He’d only made it a few blocks before I caught up to him. My middle kid walked out of the back side of a playground and somehow ended up in the parking lot before an attendant found her and brought her back.
We all know what to do when your kids disappears. If you’re in a store, you grab an employee and tell them your kid is missing. They’ll help. If you’re at the park, you have a heart attack while calling your kid’s name. Simple.
What’s your kid supposed to do?
If you’re kid gets lost, tell them to find a woman and ask for help. Tell them before they get lost.
There are 4 reasons.
- Pedophiles are rare. Stranger-kidnappings are rare. They are also predators, looking for a victim. If your kid picks the stranger to talk to, the odds of picking someone who will victimize them are slim.
- Kids are short. Employee uniforms are well above their line-of-sight and can be confusing to a little brat. What’s the kid supposed to do if she gets lost outside of a store? Simple rules for little minds.
- Women are very rarely predators. It happens, but it’s a statistical anomaly within the statistical anomaly that is child-predation. In general, women are safe. They are also wired to watch out for small children. It’s easier to get a strange woman to sympathize than a strange man.
- Women tend to be less intimidating to small children than men.
That’s it. Tell your kids to find a woman and ask for help if they get lost.
Stealing Motivation
We go a bit overboard on Halloween.
Maybe more than a bit. The yard in the video is mine. As I write this, I’ve got 40 tombstones, more than 200 skulls, and half a dozen life-size props in my yard. The coffin leaning against the tree was bought used on the secondhand coffin market.
I have a motion-activated monster whose eyes light up as his head turns to watch you as you walk past. He just happens to be the exact size in all dimensions as my son was 4 years ago.
A few years ago, I built a beautiful zombie who–not so coincidentally–had the exact height and proportions as my wife.

Last year, a few days before Halloween, somebody came into my yard and stole my bride. They also tried stealing the small coffin, but only managed to get away with the lid, leaving the coffin itself behind.
I hate thieves.
This year, I was at the Financial Bloggers Conference the weekend I traditionally set up for Halloween, so I was getting a late start.
Every time I’ve tried to get out and set up my yard, I just keep thinking about the irreplaceable pieces that were stolen. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a child-sized coffin lid dating back to 1863? Or how impossible it is to get the 100 hours of my life I put into my zombie?
I think about how hurt I would be if somebody stole my son-sized animatronic ghoul or the demon who shares my measurements, but is two feet shorter. I’ve spent hundreds of hours per year, over 10 years building my yard full of one-of-a-kind props, and someone felt it was acceptable to tear down a section of my skull fence, come into my yard, and steal a little piece of my life.
Motivation has been difficult this year.
Last night, while I was out arranging my much-reduced yard haunt, a neighbor came by to let me know that he was disappointed with the smaller production. He wasn’t upset, but he–like the entire neighborhood–love watching the gore grow in my yard while anticipating the evening full of screams as the kids wander through every Halloween.
I can’t do it.
The thieving punks stole not just two of my favorite props, but a huge piece of my desire to scare the neighborhood kids.
Maybe I just need a year off, so I can come back with better ideas and a security plan more detailed than “my neighbors love this, none of them would steal anything!”
I would love to find the thieves. Post-beating, I’d explain how stealing from anyone is stealing a small and irreplaceable part of their lives. Stealing their handcrafted treasure is ripping out a piece of their soul. Stealing their motivation is stealing the memories for every visitor who would ever benefit from their craft, if the motivation is dead enough to kill the production.
I hope I’m not to that point, yet, but I can’t promise anything. Maybe next year.