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Entrepreneurship is in my blood. I can’t help it. I’m a cubicle warrior by day, alcoholic entrepreneur by night. I’m always writing down, and subsequently burning, business plans (followed by a healthy swig of whiskey from the bottle) in hopes that I don’t have to wait another five years to make six figures. Besides, I’d rather work for myself and make $80,000 than be my superior’s lap dog and make $100,000.
I’ve decided to share the inception-to-conception startup experience with you via a multi-part documentary that is not as Discovery Channel audience-targeted as it sounds.
Part 1: The Idea
Saturday
11:06am: Woke up on the bathroom floor hungover spooning a Heineken mini-keg. Tried to move. Couldn’t. Went back to sleep.
12:37pm: Woke up again, suckled on the spout of the empty keg like a newborn, stood up, and took a shower in a t-shirt. Can’t find my pants. My freshly hydrated leftover brain cells start turning like freshly oiled gears, only to sputter and die like my shitty car’s engine last week. Curl up in the fetal position on my couch. College football.
3:29pm: Adrenaline rush. Alma mater scores game-winning touchdown. Open beer. Take two ibuprofen with beer. Order pizza. Make coffee. Shotgun beer.
4:00pm: Coffee jumpstarts the gears and gives me enough energy to open another beer. Eat pizza. Commercial break before next game. ABC shows commercial for new episodes of Shark Tank. Get inspired. Grab pen and paper. Put pen and paper down. Change channel to ESPN.
7:01pm: Only shitty games on. Check texts. 10 unread. Turn off phone. Take two more Ibuprofen. Grab pen and paper. Sit on deck.
7:32pm: After zoning out for 30 minutes, my brain has finally recovered and my best idea to date pops into my head. I start scribbling down the concept, anal-retentively detailed. Halfway through I grab a beer. About 80% of the plan has been written down, and after a second and third beer I decide I can finish and tweak the business plan tomorrow.
9:54 PM: After another two beers I start randomly browsing www.angel.co/ and find that a similar business has been in development and is backed by over $100,000 in private equity money. I start shouting profanities and throwing beer cans. Shotgun 2 beers, pass out on couch.
Sunday
1:02pm: Wake up. Coffee. Miraculously rally. Walk into bedroom. Nap time.
2:44pm: Wake up again. Grab beer. Play NCAA Football ’14 online. Get frustrated. Put in GTA V and beat up hookers and junkies.
5:00pm: No longer brain dead, I make myself some Easy Mac and go back online and check out my idea’s competition’s website. After a very careful and complete analysis of their business plan and revenue model, I concluded that they are going to have some very unhappy investors because the revenue model has a very small chance of being profitable. I write in my notes all the ways I could crush and bury them so deep under Silicon Valley they’ll pop out in China and will have their business knocked off over there, too. I create a detailed to do list and drink a celebratory six pack.
9:00pm: Breaking Bad final episodes drinking game: drink every time Walt’s family, friends, and ex-business associates screw him over.
10:14pm: Drunkenly set alarm and lay in bed, quietly admiring the Heisenberg business model while simultaneously loathing attending your non-drug lord-related job in the morning.
10:16pm: Pass out.