Tired of thinking the same thing, the same way at the same time every day.

Thoughts of things that didn’t happen to me. Things I’m not sure ever happened.

Assumption and extrapolation of rumors.

Subtle words that I’ve blown out of proportion.

Mistrust and hurt feelings that probably should have never been.


Can’t seem to enjoy the little things.

Can’t enjoy the big things.

Can’t enjoy.

When will the page turn? Will it? Should it?

Does it for anyone?

In another installment of “Jimbo Hates Everyone & Everything,” I bring to you…

People, who despite an obvious lack of talent and originality are making a comfortable fucking living while I struggle.

Before we get started down this rabbit hole – yes – I consider myself not only the most talented person in the world, but also the most deserving of success, fame and fortune.

And, goddammit… I’ve worked for it. Hard. For a lot of years.

Only to see these low-information-voter assholes run circles around me when it comes to the trappings of prototypical success.

Why the FUCK am I not rich? Or at least very comfortable? What have I been doing wrong?

Working my balls off and making cool shit for a million clients in the past 25 years? YES – 25 fucking years. I’ve been self-employed for 25 years.

Now, to add insult to injury, I see these fucking biters coming in and claiming shit that I pioneered BEFORE THEY WERE FUCKING BORN as novel. It isn’t. You’re just now doing things that I was doing while you were shitting rusks – and you’re getting the money for it that I was never able (or allowed) to.

It begs the question: Am I just that far ahead, or am I just that far behind?

Maybe it’s both. Maybe I’m just some fucking pod who exists to feed the world ideas and methods that they can run with and make successful while I sit back and get my ass kicked by the universe.

These millennial dipshits out there making money being CoNtRoVeRsIaL… and there I am – having suffered through actual ridicule and “cancelling” since 1980, being told that I’ll never make it.

Fuck – maybe “They” were right all along. I’ll never make it. I’m too much. I’m entertaining but not marketable. Talented but not cooperative enough. To new to be the now.

And that is most certainly NOT balls.

So, I was scrolling my FB feed this morning while taking a dump. It’s about the only time I allow myself the “pleasure” of wasting 5 minutes on that platform, looking at other peoples’ posts.

I came across a guy (who I’ve actually done some work for) posting about the horrible experience he had with an ex.

It was part of some value vomit post where he was admonishing people for bragging about how much money they made or something. Frankly, it was so rambling and poorly spelled (and punctuated) that I had a hard time following it.

Plus – it was long.

Anyway… he claimed that he had been married to this person for 14 years but that he couldn’t remember her name.

Really? I mean… short of a traumatic brain injury, how the FUCK are you not going to remember the name of a person you were MARRIED to for 14 years?

So, it got me to thinking – was he full of shit, was he trying to make a point, or was the entire post written by AI?

And, really – if you can’t tell the difference, IS there a difference?

If you’re posting while drunk, I can forgive it.

If you’re posting this sort of thing while straight, you deserve to be beaten with a sack of oranges.

And… if you’re so fucking brain damaged that you can’t remember the name of someone you spent more than 10% of your life with, who the FUCK would hire you to do anything but scrape algae from the bottom of a swimming pool?

Robert, if you’re reading this – you’re full of shit. Or drunk.

Either way, I don’t need you around. Have fun being blocked. I’m sure you won’t remember me anyway.



“Hey, Ron…”

“Yeah, Tony?”

“I just figured out how to make $110 MORE per guest at our AirBnb.”

“Yeah. Ok. Go ahead, Ron – how can we make more money”

“We buy 2 shitty televisions from Walmart. We keep one under the bed and we put the other one out on the tiny little table in the living room. It’ll be just wide enough that the tv is balanced and good… Until you slam the door. Then…


Fucking TV falls down and breaks.”

“Oh, so we just keep buying TVs from Walmart?”

“No, Ron… The guest is too afraid to leave the TV and complain that WE’RE the idiots. They’ll take the blame, and they replace the TV. $120. Then, we take one of the TV boxes from the new TVs and package up the busted TV…”

“Go on…”

“We package up the busted TV and take it back to Walmart. Now, we have 2 fully functioning televisions and one broken. We just keep cycling through the televisions. We’ll always have 2 perfect machines and 1 broken and we keep getting our money back from Walmart for all the ‘broken’ tv’s they sell us. The people there are dopes and they won’t care. It’s just a cheap-ass TV.”

“I’m liking this, Tony…”

“They’re too afraid of getting a bad review, Walmart can’t do anything but continually give us new, perfectly functioning televisions… or $120 in cold, hard cash or Walmart subs or Natty Daddys.”


“That’s right, Ron. You get it.”

Negative Vibe Merchant


I know I’m supposed to blog. I do it somewhat regularly. I enjoy writing – but I’m kind of sick to death of blogging and writing solely about business stuff.

If you really want to read that kind of thing, visit my eponymous site and my Blue Dozen site. There’s enough business writings there to keep you busy not being busy and ignoring your business in the name of busyness. Have at it.

With Negative Vibe Merchant, I’m going to write about all the other things.

A lot of bitching.

A lot of moaning.

A lot about the current state of my life and my brain.

Right now – things suck ass. I’m stuck in AirBnB’s for the next month – and then moving into the (vacant) home of a family friend for a few months while we recoup and rebuild our lives.

That’s a long story – and I was actually going to dedicate this blog to the journey back from “homelessness.” You know – all the stuff that I will do to help fix my mindset and my life. Inspirational and…


I pivoted (you’re supposed to do that and be able to do that) and I’m just going to use this space for all the words and weirdness and maybe even some of the “true confession” type shit I was going to do before… but in a way that I would actually want to read.

See… I’m a negative guy. I’m going to rebuild and be happier – but being negative actually makes me smile.

Misery. Discontent. Malaise.

It’s what I’m best at.