It’s about 7.30pm on a cold winters night (cold for Queensland) and I I sit down with the kids to watch Edward Scissorhands. As the movie starts we all get settled in our seats and I take a couple hits of an Indica dominant strain from my portable vape. I kick back and enjoy the show. Ten minutes later I take another couple puffs and now I’m in Edward Burton land. I didn’t know what a good movie this was, or maybe I’m just really stoned. Anyway Edward starts himself a business cutting the hair of the local MILFs. Around the dinner table the father of his new adoptive family encourages him and says. “Your own business is the greatest satisfaction a working man can have.”

It draws me out of my reverie. I’m a business man. I’ve had my own business for over 15 years. My business supports my lifestyle. I travel overseas 50% of the time and hang here with the kids for most of the other 50%. The kids mum works for me and manages one of my businesses that is run from a shed and office on her land (previously ours). In return I (or the business) pays the mortgage, all the bills, and a small salary for her. In effect it’s tax deductable child support.

The journey into daygame offered me the red pill. I swallowed it and went on quite a ride. I concluded that I had been working in business all these years to get access to female eggs. I wanted to be a multi-millionaire for the main purpose of having an abundant sex life. Society was set up as a bait and switch to offer me that which I desired most (hot women to fuck and put babies in) and then give me a fat complaining wife and turn me into a slave to the machine of consumerism to over work, over spend and pay high taxes so minorities (that I didn’t give a fuck about) wouldn’t be disadvantaged.

I revolted. I attempted to fuck all the women I could to take it out on them for being in on the conspiracy. I failed to fuck the ones I really blamed, western women with strong blue pill entitlement. So I did the next best thing and went to Asia and fucked 100 LBFM’s. While I haven’t yet retired from yellow fever. I don’t take to it with quite the same enthusiasm or vengeance. Back then every load I dumped in or on some naïve Thai or Indonesian girl was a “fuck you” to my own culture. Now I think I do it because it’s just fun, and getting easier with practice.

I had decided business was shallow and superficial. Sure it was a means to an end, like any job it paid, but it had no soul selling over-priced shit to people that didn’t really need it. I was going to be a writer. I was going to take people on a spiritual and philosophical journey. That would be something of value.

There I sat with my beautiful kids in front of me watching Edward trying to eat with his big stupid scissor hands. I was at home. I was with family. I was a man. I am a hunter and a protector. A man needs to work. To be a man, to be the father that these kids deserve I need to work and provide. It had taken me almost 3 years to get over the anger of the red pill, to even realise I was angry. I had thrown the business baby out with the bath water. Financial success was much more than just getting the pussy.

Fuck giving strangers a spiritual and philosophical journey through my writing. If I was honest with myself my motivation was probably to build a female fan base to fuck (Ooo that’s not a bad idea). I was a man, a working man. And if I was going to be a working man, then I might as well be the boss, work on my own terms. I had taken for granted the satisfaction my businesses had given me. I was a born hunter. I would go out into the plains and find pray and find the best way to kill them. I would go out and find products that I could buy for $1 and sell for $2. I would find markets that would buy my shit and dress it up to be the most valuable and appealing. Who cares if I was feeding the consumerism machine I didn’t want to be a part of. Who cares if my clients were morons buying stuff they didn’t need. They were about as important to me as a buffalo to a hunter, they are there for one reason only, to provide for me and those close to me.

It felt like full circle. I was back to being a business man. Your own business is the greatest satisfaction a working man can have