They “ooh” and “ah” of course – the natural human reaction to such a feat.
Then I thank them for not guessing too high, because that would have ruined my thunder.

The conversation often evolves to questions like, “Have you had any major repairs?”
“No, not really. Just brakes and the usual.”
“Wow! That’s crazy! You should get Ford to sponsor you.”
And I’m like, “I KNOW. If only, I understood…how things work, then I totally would do that.”

Here is a professional picture I took using my Verizon Android HTC smart phone (I also welcome any kind of phone sponsorship):

Jealous?

Originally when I hit 200,000 I had an idea to document my travels every 1,000 miles. However, procrastination is a tricky thing. It’s difficult to have watch your own procrastination literally pile up in literal odometer form, literally right under your nose. It’s been 82,000 miles of procrastination; procrastination that would drive me three times around the world (not literally though, I’d sink in an ocean). That’s the kind of procrastination, that if you took 82,000 adult llamas, and they each stood on each other’s shoulders, that would be a ladder of llamas stretching to Jupiter. Actually, that’s not true at all, I just made that up because it sounded impressive. I doubt the llama ladder would reach the ozone layer. Literally!

But I’ll tell you one thing I haven’t procrastinated on, and that’s driving. Boy howdy. I’ve seen a lot. Why I bet I’ve seen 10,000 Walmarts and 20,000 Subways. I bet I’ve passed 8000 Applebee’s,3000 Chipotle’s, 72 Tim Horton’s, and ten million trees. Just a ballpark. Speaking of which, I bet I’ve passed 1000 ballparks.

I’ve been scrolling the online Ford forums, and I’m not finding a lot of people above 250K (or even 220 for that matter). There is a rumor of someone with a Focus over 450K, but I have yet to see any evidence. Probably just some eccentric lone wolf who may or many not be fudging his numbers. And by “eccentric lone wolf” I mean, “my idol.”

Since I’m now closing in on 300K (i.e. the dream) I intend to keep you (my fans) updated. Now that I’m in New York the miles I do drive will be more intense, which means these last 19,000 could be the hardest. Time to get FOCUSed (cue motivational driving music such as the Bourne Identity soundtrack, or maybe Adele’s “Someone like you”).

Here is the music video for Adele’s “Someone like you.” Completely unrelated but so catchy (the first few seconds might be an ad so make sure to wait that out):

You know you had too much to drink, when you start yelling “I’m drunk!” and you’re laughing really hard and falling down a lot, and then your friends help you out of the bar.

You know you’re old when you’re one-hundred.

You know you’re broke, when you look at your bank statement and it’s all like, forty-three dollars and seventeen cents!? And that’s the only place where you keep money. You don’t have any other places where money is stored, it’s just that one bank.

You know it’s time to get a job, when you don’t have a job currently, and you’re also not in school and you have no inheritance or savings, either.

You know you’re out of shape when you haven’t done any physical activity for several months, and it causes you great strain to get up one flight of stairs, and you have high blood pressure and cholesterol, and your doctor expresses his (or her) concern.

You know you’re on Delta, when you’re on an airplane, and they’re all like, “Thanks for flying with Delta!” It’s ridiculous.

You know you check your phone too much, when your friends consistently say things like, “hey, quit checking your phone,” but you can’t help it. You just keep looking down, hoping someone will text. Who? You have no idea, but you keep checking. You can’t think about anything else.

You know it’s peanut butter jelly time, when someone plays that popular YouTube video, and you start hearing them sing “It’s peanut butter jelly time!” and then that same person gives you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, served on a baseball bat. And you eat it and it tastes really good.

You know you’re from New York when that’s where you were born and that’s where you GREW up!

You know you’re a redneck when you go to a live Jeff Foxworthy show, and you sit in anticipation for the “You know you’re a redneck” portion.

You know you’re a white guy when both of your parents are white, and both of their parents are white, and you’re not adopted, and you’re male.

You know you’re in love when you’re proposing to someone and they say “yes”, or when someone is proposing to you and you say “yes,” and you don’t feel any doubt about the words that just came out of your mouth. That’s when you SO know.

You know God has spoken to you, when you have physical evidence of the conversation, such as a video recording on your Android smart phone. And you submit the video to a legitimate scientist, who confirms that indeed the voice is not that of a human, but that he would need more evidence to prove that it was actually God, and not an elaborate hoax. So God comes down again and speaks to the scientist (who is recording on his I-phone) and God’s like, “Yes, it’s really me God” and God leaves a DNA sample for further proof, along with a sleeping angel, and when the scientist takes a microscope to the DNA there’s a tiny message in the DNA that reads, “Seriously, this is really the DNA of God, and if you still don’t believe me, the angel will explode in 60 seconds,” and in exactly fifty-eight seconds the angel opens her eyes and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll only feel a tickle,” and then KA-BOOM. This scientist releases his findings so that other scientists can confirm the results, and everyone agrees it was definitely God who spoke to you, and they are all very complimentary that you were such a quick thinker to turn on the video function of your HTC smart phone. But then you still question it. What if it was just the devil, pretending to be God? Couldn’t Satan just disguise himself, and do all of those same things? And why would God’s message be to masturbate more and have a heart that plots wicked things? That doesn’t seem right. Ultimately, it’s impossible to know 100% if God really spoke to you, so you should probably just make your own decisions based on your personal values and preferences.

—————————————————————————————
Oh hey. Joe here. Just a little note from the Beard office – the Beards’s's second album “Cardio-Mix” will drop with Comedy Central records on November 22nd. It has been described as the comedy album of the year to work out to, which I agree with.

Design by TJ Young

Cardio-Mix is available for pre-order, which is neat.

Today it is ranked #4 of all new releases on rdio.com

Comedy Central did up a press release, if you want to get EVEN more excited.

Still not excited? Well Crave named it one of the top three comedy picks of November (Woh, November has thirty whole days in it!).

We are also doing a CD release tour right after Thanksgiving, so if you’re in any of these towns please come say hello, and we will give you thanks:

11/26-27 – The Laughing Skull – Atlanta, GA (four shows)
11/28 – TBA (possibly Asheville)
11/29 – The Caledonia – Athens, GA
11/30 – Rockey’s Dueling Piano Bar – Gainesville, FL
12/1 – Jack Rabbit’s – Jacksonville, FL
12/2 – Theater 99 – Charleston, SC
12/3 – TBA, USA

It’s been a few weeks since you left. I was just thinking about you and thought I’d send some music I’m listening to now – maybe it’ll cheer you up a bit. I know you must be going through a hard time. I want to assure you there are no hidden messages here, this is just the music I’m really digging at the moment.

1) Missing You – John Waite
2) Hurt – Johnny Cash
3) All by myself – Eric Carmen
4) Without you – Air Supply
5) How am I supposed to live without you – Michael Bolton
6) I will survive – Gloria Gaynor
7) I will survive – Cake (version)
8) How can you mend a broken heart – Bee Gees
9) Ain’t no sunshine (when she’s gone)
10) Love hurts (Nazareth)
11) Don’t go away (Oasis)
12) You were meant for me (Jewel)
13) We can work it out – The Beatles
13) Right here waiting for you – Richard Marx
14) Anna (Go to him) – The Beatles

I guess you could say I’m going through a soft, ballad phase, with a lot of dissonant chord progressions and nostalgic lyrics. Hope you enjoy.
Sincerely,
-Bill

————————–

Anna,
It’s been a while since I sent you that mix tape. I didn’t hear back so I’m not sure it even reached you. The US Postal service has developed quite the reputation. I’m using UPS for this one, with arrival notification, just to make sure it reaches you. Anyway, I’m including an updated mix. I’ve really been getting into a lot of oldies lately. Also, you’ll notice a surprising amount of country mixed in. Hope you enjoy (again, no hidden messages).

1) Crying – Roy Orbison
2) One last cry – Brian McKnight
3) Not goin’ cry – Mary J Blige
4) Boys don’t cry – The Cure
5) Big Boys don’t cry – Lolly
6) Boys Cry- Eden Kane
7) Cry, Cry, Cry – Neil Young
8) Cry for you – Jodeci
9) Cry just a little bit – Shakin’ Stevens
10) Cry like a baby – Aretha Franklin
11) Cry softly lonely one – Roy Orbison
12) Cryin’ – Aerosmith
13) Cryin’ like a bitch – Godsmack
14) Crying in the Rain – Everly Brothers
15) Crying Time – Ray Charles
16) I don’t wanna cry – Mariah Carey
17) I’m Crying – The Animals
18) I’m so lonesome I could cry – Hank Williams
19) It’s time to Cry – Paul Anka
20) You ought to hear me cry – Willie Nelson
21) Anna – Taken By Trees

p.s. Since I didn’t hear from you, I wondered if you had my address. I’ve included an envelope with my return address, in case you want to mail me a mix tape, or just come over some time. The door is unlocked, but just in case it’s not, I’ve included a house key. I hope you are doing well. Apologies some of the ink smeared – I spilled some water as I’ve been hydrating a lot lately.

Fond Regards,
Bill

————————————-

Dear Anna,
UPS notified me that you had received my second package, so that’s good. Anyway, I made you one last mix tape. I don’t think I’ll be sending any more. These are just things I’m into at the moment. I guess you could say I’m going through a poppy phase of more accessible lyrics, with a lot of up-tempo melodies and homophony. Hopefully you enjoy. Again, no hidden message.

1) I’m Beautiful – Bette Midler
2) Express Yourself – Madonna
3) One man guy – Rufus Wainright
4) The Weakness in Me – Melissa Etheridge
5) Rocket Man – Elton John
6) Dancing Queen – ABBA
7) I’m coming out – Diana Ross
8) It’s Raining Men – THe Weather Girls
9) I was made for Dancin – Leif Garrett
10) In the Navy – Village People
11) Girls just wanna have fun – Cindi Lauper
12) I’m Every Woman – Chaka Khan
13) Over the Rainbow – Judy Garland
14) The Cup of Life – Ricky Martin
16) Man! I feel like a woman – Shania Twain
17) I am what I am – Gloria Gaynor
18) Vogue – Madonna
19) Losing My Religion – REM
20) You’ve Got to Hide Your love Away – Beatles
21) Free, Gay, and Happy – Coming out Crew
22) G.A.Y – Geri Halliwell (Ginger Spice)

Again, I don’t think I’ll be sending any more, but if you ever need a friend, just let me know. I’d love to be your friend. We can go shopping or salsa dancing or whatever.
Kisses,
Bill

p.s. I hope you don’t think this is a desperate attempt to get you to call me to talk me out of listening to certain “liberal” artists. That being said, I am open-minded, so if you feel the need to call me and talk me out of anything (anything at all), I’m happy to hear you out on your philosophy, but it’s not necessary. Please call.

Bear: Play dead (but only if you’re okay with dying)

Wolf: Don’t smile as it will see your teeth as a sign of aggression. Also, why were you just smiling at a wolf?

Coyote: Yell or throw rocks. Do not feed your cat to it. If all else fails, feed your cat to it.

Neighbor’s dog charging (off leash): Hold ground and use commanding voice – say, “No!” or “Bad dog!” Then punch your neighbor in the face.

Cat charging: pepper spray

Bunny charging: cuddle

Pack of bunnies: ballistic missile

Snapping Turtle: Walk away. If it gives chase, continue walking. Don’t stop and brag about how fast you are. The turtle is slow, but steady.

Alligator: say “see ya later.” If that doesn’t work, add a winky emoticon.

Crocodile: say “in a while,” unless you can think of something more clever, but some say that is impossible.

Komodo Dragon: let it eat you. This is one of the most endangered species in the world and it needs our help.

Regular Dragon: fire extinguisher / Vin Diesel

Kraken: try not to release it

Avatar bird thing: interlock hair braid and fly with it immediately or you lose the bond

Zombie: Find a male dork friend. He will be prepared.

Vampire: a) sunlight b) tear off head c) wooden stake to heart d) acting classes e) be unattractive – vampires only go after hotties, so if you’re a seven or below, you should be good.

Vampire bat: Have a face to face scream-off with it. This will scar you for life but it’s the only option.

Cow: tip

Chupacabra: See “Coyote” (above), or an Optometrist

Bigfoot: turn on camcorder (preferably poor resolution and shaky)

Hydra: do not cut off head. Try cutting off legs. Once it has has a bunch of legs it should just fall over.

Pirates (Somali): let them capture you so you learn your lesson about taking a cruise near Somalia.

Pirates (eye patch, peg leg, hook hand): aim for other eye, other leg, other hand

Siren: counter song with Karaoke (“Hit me with your best shot,” or “Dirty Deeds”)

Best-selling self-help books tend to have principles with catchy titles like “The Latte Factor” or “The Hammer Effect.” If I write a self-help book I will have a chapter called the “The Explosion Component” The basic principle of Bach’s “Latte Factor” is that you can compound large amounts of money, by saving just a little each day, and his example is the Starbucks latte. In summary, if you buy a daily latte at Starbucks, that’s four dollars each day. If you then save that $4, the savings add up:
1 year of saving $4 per day = $1460
10 years = $14,600
40 years = $58,200

But then he blows your mind, by adding interest. Take those same daily savings, and put them in a standard stock market index fund, with your average 10% annual return. Now let’s look at the new numbers:

$4 per day with 10% interest over 1 year = $1606 (no biggie)
$4 per day with 10% interest over 10 years = $25,595.50 (now we’re talking)
$4 per day with 10% interest over 40 years = $710,803.64 (EXPLOSION COMPONENT!!)

You mean to tell me David Bach, that if I eliminate mochas (I don’t drink lattes), that I’ll have seven hundred large? Well that’s a no-brainer – no more Mochas for me, no way Jose! (Jose is a Spanish double-pun, because my name is Joe, and coffee is also called Joe, get it?). I don’t even need to work, I’ll just not drink mochas! That’s a sacrifice I am willing to make.

I read this around 2006, which gave me just enough time to save up some Mocha money before the greatest stock market crash since the great depression (thanks a lot Bach, you son of a bitch!).

For one year, I eliminated iced mochas. For an entire year, I erased that little happy slice of my morning pie. You know the part of the morning, that you look forward to? The thing is, I really like mochas. Without them, I’m sluggish, curmudgeonly, and fog-brained. If I ever seem aggravated, it’s probably because I haven’t had an iced mocha in the past twelve hours.

And that’s where the logic behind David Bach’s “Latte Factor” begins to unravel. That is, a Latte (or in my case a Mocha) does have “value.” That value differs from one individual to the next, but Starbucks has placed the value at four dollars, and I would say they’ve done a good job with that number, given the massive success of Starbucks, and the continued high number of latte sales. In Bach’s teachings, he ignores that small purchases also have small values. If you sacrifice those purchases, you may also be losing little values that will also add up over time.

How rich is an individual, if he or she is not buying what shem desires? (Writing “he or she” for the sake of avoiding sexism is wordy, so “shem” shall be the new neutral). Forget millions, if you just cut out food and beverage altogether, you’ll have billions! And just think how rich you’ll be if you give up shelter, too! I could spend the next forty years homeless and starving, and make the Forbes 400 by 2051. People would go, “Wait a minute, that old decrepid homeless guy is worth twenty billion dollars? And I’d be like, “Booya.” And then they’d ask me for money, and I’d say “No way Jose!” because I’ve trained myself over a life time to have complete financial discipline – no shelter, no food, no mochas, no NOTHING! Let alone donating it to some stranger who has wasted their money on things that are important to them! And then I would climb back into my dumpster and take a nap.

You could have an enormous sum in your bank account, but if you’re living a destitute lifestyle, then what’s the point? Money by itself is only worth what it can buy, so by not buying what you want, you might as well not have money. Therefore, if you want to buy a Latte, but then you don’t, I submit that you are more broke with the four bucks still in your hand. You can’t drink four dollars David Bach! Even with interest, it’s not like you can have a 1000 mochas in forty years and make up the joy – that would be too much caffeine and dairy all at once.

Furthermore, forty years is a long-ass time. I’ve been living for a while now, but in my entire lifetime, I’m still not even 75% of the way to 40 (75% in a month so feel free to send gift packages to my Facebook wall). So you’re asking me to cut out my happy thing, for a longer period of time than I can comprehend, so that at the end of that incomprehensible amount of time, I can have an extra zero in my bank account? Sounds like a sad way to live.

Even the money pile is less impressive when you factor in inflation. $700K in forty years will be about $200K in today’s money, and that’s if our economy stays healthy. If our economy goes Africa on us, that $700K could turn into eighteen dollars in a hurry. And by 2051 a Mocha could cost $45. That’s if you’re even alive in forty years. It’s scary to say, but the odds of me being alive in forty years are probably in the 75% range? I have no idea on that, but I just scared myself slightly and I don’t want to figure out the actual odds of a twenty-nine year old male living to seventy.

The Automatic Millionaire is telling people that in order to be wealthy, you need to delay joy, which should be enough to make it a shitty book. But I would argue that deleting my Mocha, not only decreases joy, but also decreases wealth. Yes, you read that correctly BACH! The Latte Factor detracts from both spiritual wealth AND literal wealth.

I estimate that I am 20% more productive when I drink a mocha. I’ll be conservative and call it 15%. Americans with four-year degrees average 40K per year. If that individual increases their value by 15%, that’s an extra $6000 per year in productivity.

We will then need to subtract the cost of purchasing the mochas, which we learned earlier was $1460
$6000 – $1460 = $4540. Therefore, by buying my “latte”, I net gain $4540 over the course of a year, which averages out to $12.43 per day.

Now I will do your calculator again Bach, using my conservative constants, and I’ll round down to $12.

10% annual interest return of a daily twelve dollar savings:
1 year – $4818
10 years – 76,786.51
40 years – $2,132,410.93

Read it and weep Bach! Your Latte Factor just lost me 1.4 Million dollars! You should have titled your book, “How to be just like Scrooge, and broke too!” Even the subtitle is “FINISH RICH.” Run that marathon in total pain, so that right after you cross the finish line, you get to eat three bagels really fast. Sure they taste great, but that’s mainly because you were starved. What if you didn’t even need to feel crappy that whole time? You could have just strolled. Actually, you could have laid on the couch and watched other people run on ESPN, and ate all the bagels you wanted. Forget bagels, you could have had chips and guacamole.

What’s that, you’re still determined to be financially disciplined and retire a millionaire? Then here’s my final question, at what point do you get to start spending? Is it once you hit the million? The problem is, if a millionaire spends one dollar, shem is back down to $999,999. And you’re not going to disgrace yourself by sinking back into six digit territory, are you? So guess what, you better keep saving. Even when you’re old and rich, you still don’t get your Latte you old Scrooge! Besides, you’ve gone forty years without one, why change your habits now? Then you’re on your deathbed, and you realize all that money is going to your spoiled grand kids. The same grand kids who don’t wipe their shoes on your doormat, and call you “Grinch-pa” because you always put fruit in their christmas stockings. Now those little bastards are going to inherit your nest egg, and blow it all on gambling and cocaine. Eventually they’ll get on the wagon and take jobs in investment banking, because they know a guy, but there will certainly be some relapses and insider trading down the road. Is that what you want? You only gave them fruit because you knew what the sugar does to their teeth, and you’re trying to save them some money on dental bills!

That’s if you even have grandkids. What if you would have met your soul-mate at a coffee shop? Shem would be reading William Butler Yeats, or Twilight-New Moon, whilst sipping a pumpkin spice latte (still four dollars). But you didn’t meet your soul mate that autumn, because you were committed to a militant, latte-less lifestyle of thrift. And now you’re all alone, with your money pile, and even your money pile isn’t an actual pile – it’s just a number on a computer screen (probably an old Dell because a Mac seemed too expensive, even though you really wanted one). You can only check it online, when your WiFi’s working (which it’s usually not, because you bum your neighbor’s WiFi). Is that the life you want for us BACH? We can’t even see our million dollars because the neighbor’s WiFi is down again!

And that’s when you have a heart attack, yelling at your frozen computer, and right as you’re having the heart attack, your Bank of America account finally pops open, only to reveal a new ten-dollar maintenance fee, and your number has fallen to $999,990, and then you have a stroke on top of your heart attack, as cancer sets in. And as you slip away from this life, the last words out of your mouth are “iced-mocha”, as you flash back through your life and remember a happier time, decades ago. A guy in a top-hat will wonder what you meant by “iced mocha” and conclude, “I guess iced-mocha is just a piece in a jig-saw puzzle…a missing piece” and then hidden away is a picture of you, sipping an iced mocha when you were just a kid with a smile on your face, and some guy tosses the picture into a raging fire, and black smoke billows up…or whatever else I need to write to indicate a reference to Citizen Kane.

You may be thinking this is just a desperate attempt to justify my addiction to an iced mocha – and sure that beverage involves a perfect combination of espresso, Ghirardelli chocolate sauce, whole milk, and whipped cream (with chocolate drizzle on top, and my name written on the cup)…and yes, it would certainly be nice to finally have a guilt-free mocha experience to start my damn day BACH. It’s also true that I have not done this much math since Ms. King’s 10th grade Algebra class (who I would wager drank Folger’s each morning with a frown on her face). But I will say, this math would not have been possible today without that iced mocha, and what would the world be without this blog? Most likely, it would be an emptier world, with one less blog.

So there you have it, that’s my rebuttal to “The Automatic Millionaire,” five years after reading it. Buy the things you want with the money you have.

Here is a link to David Bach’s Latte Factor calculator if you want to plug in your own figures and finish rich!

http://finishrich.com/lattefactor/

The same can be said for reporting abductions. Let’s say you really are abducted, and then you report it…well, now everyone thinks you’re a kuckoo brain. You feel better now? Perhaps that’s the reason we associate abductions with crazies; the folks who report the abductions are the people with nothing to lose, and just a tiny percentage of actual abduction numbers. If you’re smart, or you have a good job, you’re much better off not saying a word.

I know if I was beamed up into a flying saucer, experimented on, and forced to mate with a wolf, I wouldn’t speak a word. I’m sure I’d do some heavy journaling, but the alien-wolf thing would definitely remain a secret. I know this, if you report an alien abduction, you’re not going to get a promotion at your job that year. You could go on to win a nobel peace prize, and you’d still be alien-wolf guy.

That being said, I did think of one scenario where there is an upside. That is, if you previously purchased alien abduction insurance. Apparently that’s is a real thing, that real people are buying. Sure, if you’ve been paying for the insurance go ahead and collect on what your owed. That being said, if you’re thinking about alien abduction insurance, I would strongly advise against it for a few reasons:
1) If you get an alien induced injury (physical or psychological) good health insurance already covers that right? So just use your extra money for better health insurance, which will help protect against real things.
2) On the off chance you’re abducted (we’ll call it 1 in every 3 people), you won’t be able to prove anything, as aliens have never left any physical evidence. What makes you think you’ll be the first person who can prove it? And if are the first one with proof, I’m pretty sure there will be book money, to help pay off those alien scar bills.
3) If you buy the coverage, then aliens will probably know you’re covered, which increases the likelihood they’ll abduct you.

Now, I’m not saying I believe in alien abductions, but I am saying that if they are happening, we wouldn’t know it. On a side note, I think Bigfoot is an alien. Also, Donald Trump. Additionally, Michelle Bachman, Oprah Winfrey, Glen Beck, Tom Cruise, Barbara Walters, Yao Ming, Dakota Fanning, Paris Hilton, Bill Gates, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Russians. Finally, cats.

“I wish we could get him to work at our company…
but we probably can’t afford him.”
You must fantasize about having me
as a “team member.”
Having my email professionalism on your side -
at your disposal.

It would be impossible for you to know
I’m lying in bed as I write you (or is it “laying”?)
wearing just a robe (no belt)
scrolling through various websites
seeking employment
whilst wondering where this missing robe belt went
drinking sugar-free red bulls
responding rapidly and courteously
professionally.

It would be impossible for the couple
whose house I’m in to know
I’m in their bed, in the nude.
“Who could possibly find the secret
hiding place for our key, under the mat?”
They might wonder.
Well, a savvy entrepreneur could.
I might respond.
Maybe a straight-shooter who thinks outside the box
could find the hidden key under your mat.

So here I lie (lay?)
being impressive…
productive…
valuable.

The couple would be blown away
by the proficiency of my emailing (does e-mailing have a hyphen?)
and probably offer me
a full-time house-sitting position.
Watering the plants…feeding the dog
as opposed to sedating the dog.
(his breathing has quickened – he will wake soon)

It would be impossible for you to know
I’d do a full day’s work for a bottle of Ritalin
or a Chipotle burrito
or a forty of Olde English.
I would never admit to that
in an email.

“Feel free to call me if you have any other questions, and thanks again for your time.”
(I write insincerely)

Sincerely,

Joe Zimmerman
(phone number)
(email)
(website)
(“Quote from a famous author in italics that says something about who I am, even though I didn’t write it.” -Mark Twain probably)