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If you want to know what's going on, read the first thread in this sub (SBBH) about this. (I couldn't think of anywhere else to put it.)

Sit down, kids. Ol' TheBuddha's gonna tell you a pumpkin story.

;-)

So, you know all about pumpkin. You know about our merry adventures and how he lived a good life, a happy life, and a brief life. Pumpkins don't live long. If you pick a pumpkin for a friend, you're pretty much certain to entertain a future tragedy.

Someone, I don't want to mention names but it was @zyklon_b contacted me with a picture of the exit from 98 to Natchez, Mississippi.

That's a route Pumpkin and I took many times. Oh, yes. We took that road all over.

By the way, when you cross into Mississippi, there's a visiting station. They talk all about an endangered foul species - and then they have a stuffed one right below it. I'm pretty sure they just killed an endangered species just to have one done in taxidermy and placed into a glass case.

Why do I think that? 'Cause they also had a fucking Braille sign ABOVE the restroom door. In other words, like 7' in the air, they had a sign saying "Mens" - in Braille. It was right next to the one in English. Seriously... I shit you not. I bet it's still there.

Now, I love Mississippi. I really do. I lost a hat there, but that's not important. (I'm pretty sure that Pumpkin got drunk and threw it out the window while I was passed out.)

It was on the Grand Pumpkin Adventure when I went to Natchez. Pumpkin, still very much in his prime, was in his glory.

Alright, you gotta picture this...

Natches is awesome. There's a museum dedicated to the blues. That's REALLY what they mean when they say the Mississippi Delta. Don't let them try to fool you. The Delta is way up in Natchez. I fucking know - it's on the sign.

There's also a bitchin' blues museum there and, if you're special, you might just be allowed to play around a little. Still, you can learn a lot.

The visitor's center has free coffee and donuts. Don't eat or drink them. Lesson learned - as you'll see.

First, shitfaced, we parked downtown. We parked on a hill - this would later be important. I put pumpkin in my pocket and decided that we'd find some food. We'd already eaten donuts and drank coffee. We were also loaded to the gills with a variety of stimulants and fortified our breakfast with booze. (I was on a rum, straight, kick - as I recall.)

First, we tried some fancy place. It looked fancy, at any rate. I put pumpkin on the table, on the opposite side, and the lady looked at me as if I'd lost my damned mind. I then asked her if they served anything fresh from the Mississippi River. I mean, fuck... It's right there - I was just poking it with a stick.

The lady looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. She said, "You don't want to eat a fish out of that river."

I informed her that I absolutely did want to eat something from that river, and I'd like it fresh. A few more exchanges showed both pumpkin and I that she was unwilling to budge on the issue. We all sort of agreed that it was best if I sought service elsewhere.

I'm not easily sidetracked.

I tried again - only this time, I looked for the dingiest place I could find. I mean, fuck... I'm gonna guess they're willing to serve me something from the river.

I was wrong. Oh, was I wrong. Pumpkin would later taunt me. I deserved it.

What I actually ended up in was this giant fucking delightful all-you-can-eat buffet for locals. Holy balls. The food was awesome. That's important. Remember, the food was fucking awesome.

See, what greeted me was a big black woman whom I'd later decide I wanted to sleep with. (This did not happen, but I'd decided she was wonderful.) She was probably like 35 years old and three times my size. I don't even like big women, but for some reason I was pretty sure she could break me in bed - and I'd like it.

She said, "Whatcho doing?"

Me, knowing the regular vernacular of the Common Mississippian, said, "Fittin' to eat."

She smiled and that's when she noticed Pumpkin, as I was digging him out of my pocket. She said, "Both of you?" I said yes, both of us.

She said, "Don't gimme any shit and I'm charging you for the gourd. Now sit your ass down over there."

There was no question of authority in her voice. This woman was obviously in charge. I was enamored with her pretty quickly, and she was having none of it.

When asked if they served anything fresh from the Mississippi River, she told me if it was in the buffet they had it.

Had I been a stronger man, I would have left and continued my quest. Alas, she was big, mean, and was bossy. Trust me, we were in no shape to tell ourselves what to do.

That's something a good user/drinker learns. They learn that it's sometimes better to just let someone else take responsibility. She was the boss.

And ate, we did. Oh, we ate like kings. I got pumpkin a plate and we went through that buffet like Mexican ceiling meat goes through an American tourist. We were well sated. In fact, I'd already unbuckled my top button on my pants and Pumpkin had to loosen his bandanna.

Which was when the lady came back up to me and said, "What kinda pie are you both having?"

There was no question. We were having pie. We'd literally just gorged ourselves like animals and now this crazy, angry, in charge, giant, bossy black lady was not done tormenting us and refuting my advances.

I had pumpkin which, in hindsight, was poor taste. He had banana creme pie.

I was expecting two small pieces. I asked if they had doggie bags. She told me they didn't. She also said, "Finish your pie."

Holy balls... I ate BOTH pies - though I'm going to claim pumpkin ate one. (Pumpkins don't really eat, I don't think.)

She brings me a bill that's remarkably cheap - all things considered. I left my cell phone number and a big tip. My beloved black waitress never called. I stayed in the area and she never called. Granted, I was then onto other things.

Anyhow, that's just two hours of time spent with pumpkin. He was a great companion!


(I wrote some background in my first post.) Some folks 'em. I figure I'll share. They're mostly, between the lines, true. I did indeed have a purloined pumpkin and we did go on merry adventures. He was great company. He didn't really talk, sing, or eat. I'm pretty sure he was stealin' my drugs and alcohol while I was sleeping. Lots of times I woke up with some missing and I knew I couldn't remember using them. So, that means it was Pumpkin!

Like I said, they're more or less true - albeit with a colorful twist.

If you want to know what's going on, read the first thread in this sub (SBBH) about this. (I couldn't think of anywhere else to put it.) Sit down, kids. Ol' TheBuddha's gonna tell you a pumpkin story. ;-) So, you know all about pumpkin. You know about our merry adventures and how he lived a good life, a happy life, and a brief life. Pumpkins don't live long. If you pick a pumpkin for a friend, you're pretty much certain to entertain a future tragedy. Someone, I don't want to mention names but it was @zyklon_b contacted me with a picture of the exit from 98 to Natchez, Mississippi. That's a route Pumpkin and I took many times. Oh, yes. We took that road all over. By the way, when you cross into Mississippi, there's a visiting station. They talk all about an endangered foul species - and then they have a stuffed one right below it. I'm pretty sure they just killed an endangered species just to have one done in taxidermy and placed into a glass case. Why do I think that? 'Cause they also had a fucking Braille sign ABOVE the restroom door. In other words, like 7' in the air, they had a sign saying "Mens" - in Braille. It was right next to the one in English. Seriously... I shit you not. I bet it's still there. Now, I love Mississippi. I really do. I lost a hat there, but that's not important. (I'm pretty sure that Pumpkin got drunk and threw it out the window while I was passed out.) It was on the Grand Pumpkin Adventure when I went to Natchez. Pumpkin, still very much in his prime, was in his glory. Alright, you gotta picture this... Natches is awesome. There's a museum dedicated to the blues. That's REALLY what they mean when they say the Mississippi Delta. Don't let them try to fool you. The Delta is way up in Natchez. I fucking know - it's on the sign. There's also a bitchin' blues museum there and, if you're special, you might just be allowed to play around a little. Still, you can learn a lot. The visitor's center has free coffee and donuts. Don't eat or drink them. Lesson learned - as you'll see. First, shitfaced, we parked downtown. We parked on a hill - this would later be important. I put pumpkin in my pocket and decided that we'd find some food. We'd already eaten donuts and drank coffee. We were also loaded to the gills with a variety of stimulants and fortified our breakfast with booze. (I was on a rum, straight, kick - as I recall.) First, we tried some fancy place. It looked fancy, at any rate. I put pumpkin on the table, on the opposite side, and the lady looked at me as if I'd lost my damned mind. I then asked her if they served anything fresh from the Mississippi River. I mean, fuck... It's right there - I was just poking it with a stick. The lady looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. She said, "You don't want to eat a fish out of that river." I informed her that I absolutely did want to eat something from that river, and I'd like it fresh. A few more exchanges showed both pumpkin and I that she was unwilling to budge on the issue. We all sort of agreed that it was best if I sought service elsewhere. I'm not easily sidetracked. I tried again - only this time, I looked for the dingiest place I could find. I mean, fuck... I'm gonna guess they're willing to serve me something from the river. I was wrong. Oh, was I wrong. Pumpkin would later taunt me. I deserved it. What I actually ended up in was this giant fucking delightful all-you-can-eat buffet for locals. Holy balls. The food was awesome. That's important. Remember, the food was fucking awesome. See, what greeted me was a big black woman whom I'd later decide I wanted to sleep with. (This did not happen, but I'd decided she was wonderful.) She was probably like 35 years old and three times my size. I don't even like big women, but for some reason I was pretty sure she could break me in bed - and I'd like it. She said, "Whatcho doing?" Me, knowing the regular vernacular of the Common Mississippian, said, "Fittin' to eat." She smiled and that's when she noticed Pumpkin, as I was digging him out of my pocket. She said, "Both of you?" I said yes, both of us. She said, "Don't gimme any shit and I'm charging you for the gourd. Now sit your ass down over there." There was no question of authority in her voice. This woman was obviously in charge. I was enamored with her pretty quickly, and she was having none of it. When asked if they served anything fresh from the Mississippi River, she told me if it was in the buffet they had it. Had I been a stronger man, I would have left and continued my quest. Alas, she was big, mean, and was bossy. Trust me, we were in no shape to tell ourselves what to do. That's something a good user/drinker learns. They learn that it's sometimes better to just let someone else take responsibility. She was the boss. And ate, we did. Oh, we ate like kings. I got pumpkin a plate and we went through that buffet like Mexican ceiling meat goes through an American tourist. We were well sated. In fact, I'd already unbuckled my top button on my pants and Pumpkin had to loosen his bandanna. Which was when the lady came back up to me and said, "What kinda pie are you both having?" There was no question. We were having pie. We'd literally just gorged ourselves like animals and now this crazy, angry, in charge, giant, bossy black lady was not done tormenting us and refuting my advances. I had pumpkin which, in hindsight, was poor taste. He had banana creme pie. I was expecting two small pieces. I asked if they had doggie bags. She told me they didn't. She also said, "Finish your pie." Holy balls... I ate BOTH pies - though I'm going to claim pumpkin ate one. (Pumpkins don't really eat, I don't think.) She brings me a bill that's remarkably cheap - all things considered. I left my cell phone number and a big tip. My beloved black waitress never called. I stayed in the area and she never called. Granted, I was then onto other things. Anyhow, that's just two hours of time spent with pumpkin. He was a great companion! ----- (I wrote some background in my first post.) Some folks 'em. I figure I'll share. They're mostly, between the lines, true. I did indeed have a purloined pumpkin and we did go on merry adventures. He was great company. He didn't really talk, sing, or eat. I'm pretty sure he was stealin' my drugs and alcohol while I was sleeping. Lots of times I woke up with some missing and I knew I couldn't remember using them. So, that means it was Pumpkin! Like I said, they're more or less true - albeit with a colorful twist.

(post is archived)

[–] 0 pt

Well that sucks, I still check in on my old networks from Time to time, granted I’m sure I didn’t make anywhere near the money you made when I sold. I jusr sold my client lists.

I’m sure self driving cars won’t be coming too your house anytime soon but they are coming to major areas. If we like it or not. The cats out of the bag we can all thank Tesla for that. Auto pilot changed the argument from a if to a when. However that being said I’ll still drive my manual transmission cars exclusively until they tell me I can’t.

[–] 0 pt

You can probably actually thank DARPA for that. And, well, everybody from 1950s Pontiac until now. It's been in the works for as long as I've been alive. The first road test I personally witnessed was on a closed road with a Honda. That was 1995. Volvo did the next one I saw.

We'd sometimes lease tracks so that we could hire people and watch 'em drive.

It's not as exciting as it sounds.

We did own our own commercial retail lab. It was basically a mock store that could be quickly moved around and used for more than just retail spaces. We sometimes used it to determine egress rates in an emergency, and things like that.

As for what I made, it's actually deeply buried in SEC documents. Someone on Voat found them a few months ago and linked me to them. It's a matter of public record, because I sold to a publicly traded company. I did well, but out of some embarrassment, I'd prefer to not be too specific in public.

It's not important, really. I still shit in the toilet and put my pants on just like you. I'm not even fancy. I just have some nice toys.

[–] 0 pt

Oh I didn't mean it like you are some kind of super multi billionaire. You are the smart kind of well off. You found a place you want to live got some toys and tried to give back. I've worked for many many hundred millionaires and even billionaires. They are not the type to talk to me. I was always below them. I had one guy, made his money a very interesting/possibly illegal way but found some significant influent on the country with it. He had a theater. payed 500,000 for the projector. The walls moved for acoustics. Subs in every seat and don't even get me started on the amp racks. server racks filled with amps climate control for the amp room and the projector room. He hired the guy that does the AV for the Grammies to set up the AV, I setup the networking portion of it had its own vlan on his network because I only had to learn that lesson once. I wasn't allowed to watch more than 10 minutes of a movie in this theater even though I spent hours helping to get it running. I worked for this man for almost 10 years and not once did he ask anything about my kids. I went to his home. He called me when the power went out if his generator didn't kick on because he knew I would show up. He payed me very well, but I wasn't a person to him or his wife.

The point of telling you all of that is. There are two kinds of people that are well off. There is the George kind where they are just good people who came into money from hard work and maybe a little luck and there are the Ed kind where you are just not human to them anymore. I think you are the George kind. They guy that genuinely wants to help people if he can.

I've seen what money can do to people. It can be very ugly. It doesn't happen to everyone but it does happen to some. Sad really if you think about it. The Ed type of guy spent his entire life in the pursuit of more. At the end I saw his emails all he wanted was more time with his kids. Yet they were out looking for money just like their dad did, and he didn't see anyone around him as anything other than people trying to take his money. I invited him to dinner in my home once. Well before I had kids and I lived in a run down duplex. He told me he couldn't be seen in a place like that. I said why not? He told me it was too run down and below his status. Too bad my wife can cook a mean pasta.

[–] 0 pt

It's early morning and this is going to be long.

I have some nice things to say about myself!

But, they can come off pretty strange - as I'm not sure how to express them. Granted, nobody is going to read this thread, but I also don't want to put much in public.

Like you, I'm familiar with well-heeled people. I mostly don't like to hang around with them.

I actually gave a bunch of my loot away. I figured I'd more than I'd ever spend in a lifetime, so why not share it? I paid any employee hired within the first five years, handsomely. I even gave the rest some - but the first employees got enough to retire.

Taxes took a bunch. I donated a bunch. Everyone wanted me to donate. It was weird. Somehow, I ended up on all sorts of lists to be hit up for donations. I donated some to my alma mater, and they just won't stop bugging me now. It's MIT. I know them bitches got money! No, they want more. The neat thing is they invite me to stuff, and then ask for donations.

The list goes on and isn't important.

What's strange is I've now made all that back. Everything I gave away, I made back. In fact, I made more.

In other words, if you have a nest egg and you invest it, you can make some filthy lucre. I woulnd't say the system is rigged - just that it's heavily weighted in favor of those with assets. I was able to spend seven figures on a farm - in cash. I was like, "Huh..."

So, as much as I say it hasn't changed me - I do see that it has, in some ways.

Having these two kids around has been wonderful. The eldest is awake and is going to make breakfast. She's big on helping. The youngest crawled out of bed early and went to work (ride his dirt bike around terrorizing the cows) at the farm. I doubt I'll see him again before this afternoon.

(See, color. I'm turning into a writer, I tell ya!)

Anyhow...

I say money hasn't changed me but it has.

When I first had them move in, I'd often give them $20 each day, for their school expenses. I later found out they weren't spending it - but hoarding it. As though it might go away. As though I might renege on my promise that I'd treat them as though they were my family - for life. (That doesn't mean you don't work, that means you get the chance to get an education and then go to work.)

I was sort of mystified at first. Then, I realized I had been changed by money. I don't flaunt it. In fact, I discuss it more online than in person. In person, it's mortifying to discuss. I hate discussing it in the real world. I sometimes hate discussing it online - but it does come up, 'cause I like to share my stories. They don't make sense unless people understand the background, and that leads to questions.

Another example was that they previously believed boxed Banquet chicken was a delicacy. They absolutely wanted a box of this stuff. They delighted in the aroma and thoroughly enjoyed the fare.

(To put it in perspective, I ate it and made zero comments except to say that I was enjoying our time together. I'd never, ever say anything bad about it to them.)

I hadn't put that stuff into my facehole in a long, long time. It wasn't quite revolting, but it wasn't something I want to do again. The day before, they'd probably eaten $40 worth of steaks between the two of them. (Estimating, 'cause I don't actually exchange cash for beef.)

Note: I need to write something about the farm soon. Damn it... It's amusing, but potentially long. I digress!

So, I have changed. I like to think I've changed in good ways and haven't picked up the snobby ways.

I have a few bucks 'cause I got damned lucky. I worked no harder than the guy who lugs concrete forms - I know, 'cause I spent a summer (and a half) doing just that! Yes, I worked my ass off, but it was still largely luck.

In other words, I'm no better than anyone else 'cause of that. (I'm better than them 'cause I'm smarter, devilishly handsome, and insanely talented! chuckles That's a joke, by the way.)

I try to be generous, compassionate, and understanding. The planet is full of people who are unwilling to be those things. Having taken the road less traveled, I'll continue the trend and try to buck the system.