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Disclosure
I’m not terribly commercial, but I do enjoy making money.
As such, it is safe to assume that any company, entity, corporation, person, place, thing, or other that has a product, service, post, or link has in some way compensated me for said product, service, post or link. That compensation–direct or indirect–may be in the form of money, swag, free trips, gold bullion, smurf collectibles, super-models, or just warm-fuzzies. That list is NOT in order of preferred method of compensation.
To reiterate: If it’s commercial, and it’s here, I’m probably being paid for it.
Saturday Roundup: Evil Dead
- Image via Wikipedia
Last night, my wife and I went to see Evil Dead: The Musical. I’m a die-hard zombie-movie fan, and the Evil Dead Trilogy is among my favorites. I don’t recognize a difference between Candarian demons and zombies, so it still fits the genre.
The musical beats either of the first two movies, hands down. I was rolling. If you are in the Minneapolis area tomorrow, check it out at the Illusion Theater. If you are elsewhere, watch for it. It’s entirely worth the time and money.
Best Posts:
Sometimes, shopping can save you money, but don’t let it get out of hand.
I’ve never had food poisoning, but my wife has. It was unpleasant.
Bacon soda. Yum. No further comment.
Bad marketers. No donut.
Carnivals I’ve been in:
AAA – Save Some Cash was included in the Festival of Frugality.
The Spending Styles of the Rocky Horror Picture Show was included in the Carnival of Personal Finance.
Crack was included in Foodtastic Favorites.
If I missed anyone, please let me know. Thanks for including me!
How to Build a Business on Cannibalism
Last week, my wife posted on Facebook that she was frustrated with her job hunt.
An hour later, she got a call from someone she hadn’t talked to in 10 years. He wanted to talk about a great business opportunity. He wouldn’t say what it was, but wanted to bring a friend over to discuss it.
Fast forward to last night.
The night my wife agreed to meet with the old friend.
The meeting we forgot about.
So we invited our friend and his friends into the house. We sat down at the dining room table to hear the pitch. Our friend is just getting started so his “friend” delivered the pitch.
While I was waiting for him to explain the business, he was showing us pictures of he and his wife traveling around the country.
Instead of explaining the product, he asked about our most expensive dreams.
Instead of telling us how the marketing worked, he mentioned something about utilizing the internet–and i-Commerce–and talked about changing our buying habits.
Instead of showing us a product, he talked about driving volume and building a team.
There was nothing concrete, but a lot was said to ride on the dreams of people who are frustrated with their income or are living paycheck-to-paycheck.
More than an hour into the presentation, it was revealed that the “product” is a buying portal to allow people to buy Amway products from your personal Amway store.
Freaking Amway.
How do they find your personal Amway store, you ask? I don’t know, because you are supposed to be your own best customer. You make money by buying the products you use anyway, but buy them from Amway. For example, there’s the $10 toothbrush, the $16 baby wipes, or the $38 toilet paper.
For six frickin’ rolls.
Seriously, this stuff is meant to touch my butt once. I don’t need it made from pressed gold.
As for the visual…you’re welcome!
So I sell a kidney to buy enough toilet paper to keep my nether bits clean for a month and I get one point for every $3 I spend. I figure that’s about 50 points per month, given the foot traffic our bathrooms see.
If I hit 100(I think, he didn’t leave the paperwork) points, I get 6%(again, I wasn’t taking notes) back at the end of the next month. For the sake of the math, I’m going to double the number of butts in my house. 100 points means I need to spend $300. That’s 47 rolls of toilet paper. In exchange for this $300–and on top of gold-embroidered silk I now get to flush down the toilet–I’ll earn $18.
I know exactly how much toilet paper I buy right now. Amazon sends me a 48 roll package every other month for $31.42, shipped.
To simplify, Amway is offering me the ability to spend $300 to get $18 plus $31.42 worth of toilet paper. I’m supposed to end my financial worries by turning $300 into $50 every month.
Yay!
[Note to self: Demolish Amway’s business model by starting a company that will let people turn $200 into $50, without the nasty overhead of stocking overpriced crap. A 33% increase in efficiency will make me rich!]
But wait, say the imaginary Amway proponents that I hope aren’t frequenting my site, you’re forgetting the most important part!
Oh really?
There’s also a thing called a “segmented marketing team”. To the rest of the multi-level marketing world, this is known as your downline. If you can con your family and friends into turning their $300 into $50 every month, then help them con their family and friends into turning $300 into $50 every month, you’ll get rich! Amway has apparently figured out a way to share a small fraction of their 600% markup with their victims to make them feel like it’s a business opportunity instead of a robbery.
If I get 9 people in my “business team” and each of them build out their team, I get the coveted title of “Platinum Master” or whatever. All I have to do is sell the souls of 72 people and I can make a ton of money! If each member of my downline turns $300 into $50, Amway will get $18,000. In exchange for delivering those souls, the “average” Platinum Ninja makes about $4500 per month. That’s about $12,000–free and clear–for Amway.
When your business model consists entirely of your sales force doing all of the buying and consuming, it’s not a business model, it’s cannibalism.
IRA or Powerball?
“When I win the Powerball, I’m going to buy that house and kick him out. I play diligently, so you know it’s going to happen.”
I had a friend say this to me this week. He’s poor–living on about $500 per month–and he was recently evicted from his apartment.
His plans for the future involve taking nearly 20% of his income and burning it playing the lottery. When he found out that I don’t play, he looked at me like I was stupid.
The odds of winning a life-changing amount of money are 1 in 5,153,632.65. That’s for a $1,000,000 prize. The next step down is $10,000, which, while helpful, won’t change many people’s situation for long. One in 5 million. That’s 5 times worse than your odds of being hit by lightning this year. It is, however, 4 times better than your odds of being sainted and 12 times worse than your odds of dating a supermodel.
It’s not going to happen.
Sure, play for fun–because turning cash into valueless slips of paper is a blast–but don’t play the lottery instead of working to improve your future. The lottery is NOT a retirement plan.
Instead, a much more reasonable plan is to date a millionaire. The odds of making that happen are just 215 to 1, and you can do things to improve your chances.
Improving the odds of dating a millionaire:
- Hang out where millionaires go. Yacht clubs, nice restaurants, rehab, that dark corner of their bedroom where the lamp never quite reaches that just looks perfect for a stalker-cam.
- Do what millionaires do. Golf, high-stakes poker, oppress third-world countries, Centrifugal Bumblepuppy.
- Look like millionaire-bait. For my friend, the 50-year-old black man, it might be hard to look like a 23-year-old blonde hardbody, but it’s worth the effort.
- Be nice, be polite, give good h…nevermind.
Seriously, getting a regular job and socking money away every month will give you a far better return on your investment than playing the lottery. Even if you’re saving it in a mayonnaise jar buried in the backyard next to that obnoxious guy who used to live next door, you will be building security and peace of mind. Every month, you will be better prepared for the storm of crap life tends to throw around.
Do you play the lottery? Why or why not?
Born to Launch
I’ve recently discovered something about myself: I like doing new things.
More to the point of this post: I like making new things.
I also like learning new things.
Unfortunately, once the newness wears off, I start to lose interest.
I’m a software engineer, so I regularly build new things and solve new puzzles. When a project gets into maintenance mode and the new stuff ends, I want to chuck the whole thing in the river and move on.
That carries over into other things, too. Start a business, lock down some skills, get some customers, then enter maintenance mode. Boring.
Pick up a new hobby, achieve a basic level of mastery, watch it stop being fun.
Play a new video game, get good at it, get bored.
It’s a flaw in my character and it’s a pretty serious flaw. Soon after I reach the point where I can fly with a new skill or project, I quit wanting to do it.
When it quits being new, it quits being fun.
When I pick up a new hobby, I get good at it, I get bored with it, so the setup equipment tends to collect dust.
Some of this is work stuff, which isn’t supposed to be fun. If it were, they wouldn’t call it “work”, they’d call it “happy fun time”.
Some of this could replace work stuff, but I’m not sure how to power through when I hit this particular wall. Just making money doesn’t keep something exciting. If I’m not excited, it’s hard to stay motivated, which is probably why I let the dishes pile up. (Sorry, honey!)
There is a good side to this flaw: I’m never bored. I fill notebooks with the things I want to do next, from blacksmithing lessons to building a foreign language learning site. I have absolute confidence that I’ll never be bored for long, and I’ll never be short of new ways to make money, but that doesn’t make me feel stable.
I have a need for stability, and I have a need for new. Finding that balance is a challenge.
Maybe I just need to launch things faster to build a bigger safety net. That would let me revel in the new without putting my lifestyle at risk.
