Analyze, Build, Sell

I’m more convinced than ever that the best work path for a great life is…

1. Some type of data analyst job

2. Building something

3. Learn to Market and sell

Notice I didn’t say career path…I don’t care about a career.

I care about ending up wealthy.

With all the chaos and information on the internet today, it’s more important than ever to be able to tell what is signal and what is noise. That’s why a data analyst job is a great first step. It orients you to the world and can help you form your worldview. You’ll start to discover the things you value and the things you want to pursue.

Once you have a worldview and know what you want to pursue, you need to build something from it. It can be in the physical world (atoms) or the digital world (bits), but you need to build something. It’s the foundation for what you build your wealth upon. You’ll have to build a ton of stuff before finding the one what will work. This is a good and bad thing. It gives you unlimited freedom to create value with something, but you’ll need to invest a lot of your personal time. The good thing is the more practice you have at building stuff, the easier it will become.

The last part is learning to market and sell. This will determine how well the thing you build gets distributed into the world. This is also the greatest determining factor of the wealth you will accumulate. You’ll go through multiple of cycles of building and selling. You may even go back and analyze the world and your view of it at different points. But if you can market and sell to people, you’ll never starve.

If you get to market and sell something that you’ve built based on the worldview you believe in, you’ll be in a very rare group of people with a great life.

– Danny

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Rat In a Cage

This post may sound like the ramblings of an old man yelling at clouds or it may sound like a political statement. It’s meant to be neither, but given that it could be both, I’ll keep it short.

I had an epiphany today.

And the fact that I haven’t had it before speaks to how privileged I have been in my lifetime.

I was scrolling through Twitter when a video game clip stopped my thumb in its tracks. It was a clip of a famous e-sports athlete winning the first online multiplayer game of the new Call of Duty.

He killed 4 enemies in 26 seconds.

Seconds later, ‘VICTORY’ flashed across the screen. He let out a celebratory scream that his teammates joined in on.

I felt off.

Call of Duty has grown into one of the biggest e-sports games in the world. There’s a Call of Duty league, and some of the best players get portrayed like Rockstars. I played CoD when I was in college and it was massive back then. As crazy as it seems, it’s on an even bigger level now.

After watching the clip, I watched the release trailer for the game.

I felt worse.

Not only has the game exploded in popularity, but it glorifies war to the extreme. The trailer looked like a Michael Bay movie mixed with a Rock and Roll concert. That marketing and glorification has led to Call of Duty reaching $30 Billion in revenue over its lifetime.

Thirty. BILLION.

Quite the accomplishment for enjoying war with no consequences.

There’s a different number that’s also in the billions.

The amount of money the US has sent to Ukraine for the Ukraine war.

Regardless of political opinions on the war, I mention it because it’s a war with real consequences. There is death, destruction, and many refugees who don’t know the future of their homes.

And yes, war and conflict with extreme consequences happen every day in the world. It happened every single day I picked up a controller to play a video game about war. It may be hypocritical, but it’s hard for me not to feel a little disgusted watching a video game clip when the alternative reality is out there. Maybe I’m just more aware of it now that I’m older.

What’s the phrase?

Hard times lead to strong men and good times lead to weak men?

Maybe I’m just a little more thoughtful about what it could mean for the future.

– Danny

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Can Minimalists be Good Salespeople?

I’ve been asking myself this lately.

I’ve been satisfied with my career up to this point. I’ve proven to myself that I can build stuff, so now I need to prove to myself that I can market and sell stuff.

The timing is funny because I also have less need for material things now. I sold a condo, a car, furniture, and plenty of other items. I’m definitely going down the minimalism path.

People say that you need to believe in what you’re selling to be a great salesperson.

Is that possible if you believe in minimalism?

Selling material stuff seems forced.

The obvious answer would be to sell something related to health, wealth, or relationships, but even that may not make sense.

If you’re a true minimalist, you may believe in exploring those areas on your own.

I know I have.

I spent time going through trial and error on my own, to fix my health and get better at relationships. The wealth piece is next.

If you agree with that approach, can you justify selling things around those areas of your life?

If so, what is there left to sell?

– Danny

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Structure vs Serendipity

Social media is a mashup of life advice.

It doesn’t matter if you’re young or old, everyone seems to be giving their opinions nowadays. Especially when it comes to how to live life in your 20’s.

Some people say to treat your 20’s as a giant experiment. Try things out, fail, learn, see what you like, enjoy the fun times, and make memories.

Treating your life as an experiment leads to a lot of serendipitous events, but you’ll likely have a lot of downfalls as well. There’s a reason heart monitors show peaks and valleys for people who are alive.

Other people promote having more discipline because it can lead to success earlier in your life. Although your 20’s may be a grind, your 40’s and beyond will be much smoother.

A heart monitor with a flatline means you’re dead. That’s not meant literally in this case, but grinding out your life with a rigid structure on the path to success can definitely feel that way.

I don’t agree that structure guarantees more success. Both approaches can have incredible outcomes.

The real question is what type of balance you want in your life between serendipity and structure.

Most people want serendipity when they’re younger and structure when they’re older. I’m logical, organized, and very risk averse by nature, so I thought I’d always have a lot of structure in my life.

And then I felt like I flatlined.

I’ve been leaning more towards serendipity the last few years.

The funny thing is, I’ve had bigger improvements from serendipity than from structure.

I need to ask myself if I’m bad at structure. Is my structure outdated? Or have I had great luck with serendpity?

I’m not sure. There’s could be a higher power that’s pushing me more towards serendipity.

Time will tell. But I know my preference for the near future.

– Danny

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The Mess I Didn’t Want

I believe in Karma.

And I’m not one to let bad Karma turn my life sideways. Unfortunately, that could have happened to me without having the choice.

When I came to Caral, I had one rule.

Don’t overcomplicate things.

I meant that with work, fitness, dating, and friends. I started off pretty well.

A few months into my time in Caral, I had a pretty good setup. I met friends through different meet-ups for remote workers. Those meetups can be full of characters, but I lucked out with this group.

One aspect of not overcomplicating things with dating was not messing with anyone in a friend group. Kind of a ‘Don’t shit where you eat’ type of thing.

Well, I didn’t follow it, and it almost bit me on the ass.

A bunch of us went out to a rooftop bar, where I met Molly.

Molly wasn’t a stunner by any means, but there was something about her that I was attracted to. Maybe it was the fact she was short and tan, or the combination of her glasses and the dress she wore that night. I made sure I interacted with everyone I knew who was out at the bar, but I found myself talking to Molly again and again. We exchanged numbers later in the night.

We texted back and forth during the week and some well-placed voice messages built up some sexual tension between us. We made plans to grab drinks on a Thursday night.

The bar part of the night was uneventful, if not boring. I felt like the tension we had built up over text wasn’t translating to our in-person encounter. Molly felt distant in a way, but I couldn’t figure out why. It made sense later on, but for now, we were both coasting through these drinks. After two rounds, she insisted on walking to the beach. I had nothing better to do and thought a change of scenery might spice things up, so we started walking.

We arrived at the beach around 10pm. Other than the moon shining behind some clouds in the sky, and cellphone lights from others strolling the beach, we were in complete darkness. We walked to the water and found a spot to put down our stuff.

I wasn’t excited about walking on the beach in the dark. Wading into waist-high water downright put me on edge. My hands were tied though. Molly had taken an edible back at the bar, and was taking full advantage of it…she was already knee-deep in the ocean.

After praying there were no creatures that would take off a chunk of my legs, I came back to the present moment. I grabbed her from behind and started kissing the nape of her neck. She pressed her ass into my groin as I reached my hands around to her chest. We were both enjoying the sensations.

Quick sidenote – as fun as doing this in the ocean sounds, it’s more of a pain in the ass than anything else. When you’re 165 lbs and wave after wave crashes into you, keeping your balance is much harder than it seems. Stick to pools or hot tubs.

I spun her hips around after a few minutes and we started kissing. At one point we stopped and I looked over her 5’1 body to see the moon and some boats in the background that I didn’t notice before. I had to admit, it was an excellent visual.

More time passed as we continued our make-out session in the water, which gave me flashbacks of high school. When the heat of the moment died down, we went back to the shore to get our stuff.

It didn’t take long for things to pick back up.

She initiated it this time and didn’t hesitate to start running her hand down my stomach towards my groin. I looked around to weigh the pros and cons of turning her around, and bending her over right then and there. No one was in sight of us, so we would have had enough time for a quickie. I’d only need to worry about how loud she was. Then I remembered the other issue.

I didn’t bring a condom with me.

I’d be screaming at myself for this in most cases, but it turned out to be a blessing.

After realizing our situation, we walked back to the parking lot where an uber was waiting for us.

“Downtown, Please”.

Either Molly’s edible wore off, or she had a come-to-Jesus moment because her attitude was different when we got back to my place.

After having our hands all over each other at the beach, she reluctantly declined my invitation to take a shower with me to get the sand off our bodies. I didn’t know why, but I noticed her struggling with what she should do. I could almost see the angel and devil on each of her shoulders whispering in her ear.

I stayed in the shower an extra few minutes hoping she would join, but the angel got the better of her. When I went back into my bedroom I found out why.

“I WANT to have sex with you…but I can’t…yet.”

I had a carousel of possibilities going through my head with the most likely scenarios…

That time of Month? STD? Boyfriend?

It was clear she wasn’t going to outright tell me, so it was my responsibility to figure it out. I listed off those reasons, thinking there were no other possibilities.

I was wrong.

“Are you married?”

“Yup.”

I didn’t know what else to do other than laugh. Of course, I almost unknowingly had sex with a married woman on the beach. The cherry on top?

She has 2 kids.

After processing what she told me, she opened up about it. She was in a broken marriage and told him earlier that week that she wanted out.

I can empathize with that, but still wanted no part of it. I didn’t know if her husband was aware she was out with other people, if he was violent, or if she was giving me the full story.

The worst part?

I didn’t want to be the catalyst in breaking up a marriage that involves children. That is not something I want on my conscious.

So much for not overcomplicating things.

I sent her on her way with as much dignity as I could. She booked a room at a hotel downtown so rather than her do a walk of (real) shame, I walked her halfway. We hugged before we parted ways.

On the way back to my apartment, I saw a few women walking across the street towards me, on their way to the bars. They were in a good mood and were smiling as they crossed by me. I was getting ready to say something to them, but after the night I just had, I kept my mouth shut and my legs moving.

“Not tonight.” I thought to myself.

As I crossed the street, I watched them walk into a sea of people outside the closest bar.

– Danny

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Being too Accommodating

Self-sabotage is a bitch.

It comes in obvious forms that we all recognize such as…

  • Drinking
  • Endless swiping
  • Having a victim mentality

…and plenty of others. But some forms of self-sabotage aren’t as obvious, which can make us blind to the fact we’re doing it.

One example is being too accommodating of others. This is something that affects both men and women, but is a core trait of men who get labeled as ‘nice guys’. A lot of people are too accommodating, but why?

Because It’s an easy trap to fall into.

  • It doesn’t take much effort
  • It doesn’t take much time

There are extreme examples such as people who let guests stay in their home for too long, or people who stay in unhealthy relationships longer than they should. Those are less about being too accommodating, and more about not having a backbone.

Being too accommodating is more subtle.

I was too accommodating of women when I was dating in my 20s. I’d meet a woman, get her number, and then try to make plans.

“I can’t this week”.

“I’m busy”.

Responses that I thought were genuine, but more often than not were soft rejections. I was also naive in my 20s, so I thought trying to be laid back and flexible would help me in the long run.

It didn’t.

I’d often say some variation of “No problem, I’ll text you next week”. After seeing those plans fall through over and over, I started to realize that being too accommodating doesn’t work.

I should have been less accommodating and more assertive.

So use this post as a mirror for yourself. If you’re too accommodating of others, figure that out now and change your behavior.

– Danny

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We Overcomplicate Food

Sugar. Salt. Seed Oils. Butter.

Ingredients that get abused by millions of people every day in the American diet. I’m no longer one of them.

I’m a practitioner of simplicity in most areas of my life, and food is no exception.

Other than the occasional cheat meal, I eat the same fruits, vegetables, meats, potatoes, and rice every day. I never smother my meals with sauces or seasoning either.

I started eating healthier in my mid-20s, after years of my weight fluctuating. It sucked at first, but the better I ate as time went by, the more my brain craved simpler food.

It’s not only a mental switch for me either. Since the change, I’ve experimented with my diet enough to know how certain ingredients affect me physically. When I avoid sugar, my joints feel looser and I don’t have any inflammation. When I avoid salt, I look leaner because I’m not retaining as much water.

I’ve known the health effects for a while, but the monetary impact of overcomplicating food hit me this past winter.

I told my friend that I wanted to go to a steakhouse in the city and go all out for a meal and red wine.

We did exactly that. And cost us $300.

Along with our steaks, we had the best spread of appetizers possible. We devoured plates of mashed potatoes, macaroni & cheese, as well as sauteed mushrooms. It was a meal for 4, for 2. Did the meal taste great?

Yup.

Was the taste worth $300?

Meh.

The meal tasted great in part because of all the salt and seasonings used. As the meal went on, we noticed the bottom of the plates had a layer of either oil or butter. It could have been both.

The $300 bill hurt because I could remember steaks I’ve cooked in my apartment with a pinch of salt, that had an incredible taste. Making my own roasted potatoes was the perfect compliment to a steak, compared to all the side dishes I had at this meal.

That night, I told myself I’d no longer overcomplicate meals…especially if I could avoid a massive bill in the process.

I remembered this last night.

I’m back home for the month visiting family. We had a delicious lobster dinner along with mussels and french bread crostini.

My family likes to use butter. Lots of butter.

We had little glasses of melted butter to dip lobster meat in. The crostini was toasted with butter. And the broth for the mussels had garlic, shallots, white wine, and you guessed it…butter.

The flavor was great, but I could feel my arteries yelling at me. I should have been finished eating for the night.

I wasn’t.

I was hungry again a few hours later, so I went back into the kitchen and noticed a good amount of french bread left.

I love french bread.

I don’t eat it often, and I figured I had already done enough damage for one cheat meal…why not add on a little more?

I decided to cook up an experiment.

We had Kerrygold cheddar cheese in the refrigerator. I pulled that out and decided I’d make a grilled cheese sandwich.

I cut a 3-inch piece of french bread from the end of the loaf and sliced it down the middle to make an open-face sandwich.

I cut thin pieces of the cheese and covered both pieces of bread with them.

No butter, no salt, nothing else. Only french bread and cheddar cheese.

After 10 minutes in the oven, I took out this masterpiece that smelled incredible. The heat amplified the cheddar smell. My nose was doing cartwheels.

I was optimistic about my creation thus far, so I decided to go one step further. I grabbed honey.

I dripped a little on the sandwich and took my first bite.

It was incredible.

The crispness of the bread balanced with the chewiness of the cheddar and the saltiness of the cheddar balanced with the sweetness of the honey.

It was the perfect mix of ingredients.

When I eat lobster, I have the taste in my head the next day. Not this time. That grilled cheese sandwich is all I can think about.

I may buy french bread and cheddar cheese every few weeks just in case I have these cravings again. It’s not a complicated meal, and the enjoyment factor is off the charts.

– Danny

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Two Ways to Find a Potential BDSM Partner

Try these ideas…

The Pinch Test

Step 1: Get a person’s permission to massage and pinch an area of skin on their arm or leg.

Step 2: Gently massage their skin for 5-10 seconds and ask them how it feels. They should reply “Good”. If they reply “Bad”, stop reading this and go learn how to give a good massage.

Step 3: After they respond, pinch the same area of skin just hard enough so they wince from feeling just a bit of pain.

Step 4: Wait a few seconds, then massage the same area again. Ask them if it feels better or worse than the first massage.

Step 5: If they say “Better”, they may like the combination of pleasure and pain.

Step 6: Ask them out and don’t screw it up.

Never Have I Ever

When playing Never Have I Ever, use the following statement…

“Never have I ever been in handcuffs”

Remember who puts a finger down.

When it’s your turn again, use this statement…

“Never have I ever been arrested”

Look at the people who have been in handcuffs, and now pay attention to who keeps their fingers up.

Ask them out and don’t screw it up.

Disclaimer: I have never actually used these to find BDSM partners in real life…but I’m sure they’re worth experimenting with, just for fun if nothing else. I’m just testing out a shorter form of writing and hopefully providing some humor 🙂

– Danny

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On Your Knees

Times have changed.

I don’t like to use the ‘In my day, we walked uphill both ways’ line, but in some cases it’s true.

Growing up in the late 90s/early 00s as a teenager was different than today. We didn’t have access to porn, Onlyfans, and Instagram at our fingertips. We got turned on by watching scrambled adult channels late at night with the sound at low volume. Sometimes the picture would unscramble enough to see 10 seconds of sex without interruption.

Those were the days.

They were also the days when it was easy to get turned on.

When I started to date, a girl’s hand grazing the right spot on my leg a few times was all I needed to get things moving.

That’s not the case anymore.

They say the brain is the biggest sex organ. I agree.

Between my late teens and early 30s, I was too timid in the bedroom. I wanted to be gentle, romantic, and make sure the woman I was with was enjoying herself. I didn’t realize it, but this was a problem as I got older.

I needed more to get turned on.

I had this epiphany last fall when I went on a few dates with Amy. We had magnetic chemistry when we hung out, but things didn’t go well in the bedroom. She told me that she was sexually assaulted earlier in her life, so I was extra careful with her. That caused some hesitation in the bedroom, and it killed my performance.

That hurt.

Not only because of the poor performance but also because I really liked Amy. The energy I felt with her was rare. After things ended with her, I swore to be more aggressive in bed.

It became crystal clear to me that I needed to operate this way earlier this year. I met a woman named Claire. Claire is a fun one.

She was a self-proclaimed nerd growing up, who didn’t start dating until her Junior year of college. She got into a relationship her senior year. It lasted 10 years, but it should have only lasted 6. It was 4 years too many, according to her. One of the main issues she had with the relationship was that her boyfriend was vanilla in bed.

Claire ended that relationship at the beginning of this year. She has been on a mission to experiment with her kinky and submissive side ever since. When I first met her, I said “You want to find out who you are without having to find out who other people are”. She replied, “Exactly”.

Claire and I also had magnetic chemistry from the start. Thankfully, our chemistry is in the bedroom. One of the first nights we hung out together, we discussed limits, and what we each wanted. One thing was clear. She wanted me to dominate her.

She was exactly what I needed at the time. I felt like I could do whatever came natural to me, without restrictions. She loves being choked, slapped, spanked, and restrained. Being able to let myself go with her helped my performance a lot. Spending time with her has been one of the best sexual experiences I’ve had.

One weekend soon after Claire and I got together, I had the total opposite experience.

I was out at a bar with some friends and saw this woman dancing. Dark skin, dark hair, brown eyes, and great curves. I went to talk to her and we hit it off immediately. Her name was Renee. We texted and agreed that I’d go to her apartment later that night.

I got there after a 20-minute Uber ride at 3am.

The lights inside were low enough that they felt seductive. She also had an EDM music festival playing on her TV. It wasn’t my taste, but I wasn’t going to complain. After a few minutes of conversation, we started going at it. To say there were some speed bumps was an understatement. I started asking Renee the same questions I asked Claire. Do you like choking? Spanking? Names?

No. No. No.

She told me she was more dominant and wasn’t much of a submissive. That took some fun out of it. I knew I was going to have to be more cautious with her.

Renee was also a little boring. She wasn’t vocal about what she liked, and kissing and licking her body didn’t get much of a reaction. Her breathing was consistent, no matter what I did. I couldn’t tell what was having an impact on her. It wasn’t giving me a lot to build on.

We made our way to the bedroom and she started playing with me. after stroking me for a minute or so, she urged me to put a condom on. The stroking was fine, and I was physically stimulated…but I was not mentally turned on.

And that showed during the sex. She was still consistent with her breathing as we were fucking. I was losing interest fast. The EDM festival music in the background didn’t help the mood either. I didn’t perform well. The experience with Renee was like trying to stick the positive ends of two magnets together. It’s not meant to be.

The difference between how I feel with Claire and how I felt with Renee is so obvious. It was the first time I noticed the difference between feeling completely turned on and just being physically stimulated.

I’ve been thinking more about this lately, and realize it will change how I date going forward.

How?

I’ll have to be more selective about the women I date. I’ll focus on women who are submissive and interested in some form of kink. That means I’ll be cutting down my number of women to date, but the ones who are into me will be really into me.

It’s like in business. The worse thing you can do is try to be everything to everyone. The better option is to market yourself as a very specific product to a very specific type of customer. That’s where the best success comes from.

Being more selective also means that one-night stands might be a thing of the past for me. Even though they can make for a good story, they may not be the smartest move anymore. I don’t want to get aggressive with someone who I don’t know well. That could be risky.

At this point, I have more questions than answers.

I’ll revisit this post later and write a follow-up on the topic.

– Danny

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