February 21


I finished up early yesterday.

Most days I’ll do a couple of hours in the Cave after dinner in the evenings and pack up for the day around 9pm.

But yesterday I had to fetch Mrs EBG from the train station in Cork, right slap-bang in the middle of the evening rush hour.

What made things even better were the myriad roadworks up and down the N71, which, along with the vile weather, incompetent Irish drivers (even worse than the clusterfuck of Melton Road in Leicester), and sheer volume of traffic slowed things to a veritable crawl for much of the way.




And when I got into Cork itself?

Oh. My. Actual. Fucking. God.

Tail-to-nose traffic all the way from the ring road into the city and across the bridge to the station, which is conveniently located in the worst possible place to get to from the South side of the river.

Did I say Fuck My Life?

I think I did.

But it’s always worth saying again.




And as I fumed, ground, and grumped my irascible way twixt home and station, I mused to myself some people do this every fucking day, there and back to get to work.

What I experienced as a one-off carbuncle of a day in procession of otherwise pretty much perfect weeks, a goodly number of sad-sacks make this wretched trek every morning and then go back the other way at night.

Why, for the Love of God, would anyone do that to themselves?

AND THEN COMPLAIN ABOUT IT? (As I know some of them do).

But, hey, don’t get too smug.

Because while you might think you’re Real Smart because you run your own business and don’t have to do that shit, from where I’m sitting the chance are you ain’t a lot different.

How so?

Because when I see business owners pissing and moaning about the low quality clients and business they get yet do nothing different, day in, day out to change it, I figure they’re no different and no better off than the Cerebrally Challenged Commuter bewailing the job they hate but are voluntarily travelling to each morning.


Alas, I can’t help them, not while they’re employees, at any rate.

But you?

Chances are I can help you.

But before I can say for sure, I have to know more about you and get a handle on you, your business, and the situation and circumstances you’re in.

And that all starts with a call (it’s free and comes with no strings attached, yada, yada, yada).

See the boxy thing below.


P.S. Mrs EBG’s appointment at the Clinic went swimmingly, and everything’s on track for her surgery in a couple of months.

Lucky woman… once it’s done she’ll finally get to appreciate the devastatingly good looks of the man she’s so fortunately married to.

I figure those very same film-star action-hero looks, along with my massive intellect, charming humility, and vastly overinflated courage, confidence, and self-esteem are a winning combination.

Jump on the phone with me and you can appreciate my humble and ego-free magnificence for yourself.

Link's below.


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