Why I Gave Up Drink – Part Two

July 24, 2017July 24, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

An Evening With Schnapps

As a teenager I would have gone ‘knacker drinking’ once or twice. The most I would have consumed on these occasions was one or two cans of Budweiser. I was forced to cap it at two, not because that’s all I wanted, but because that’s all I could really afford. I was a teenager. I had no income. I had to rely on mom and dad.

The first time I remember getting ‘out of it’ was in my mid teens when my cousin’s husband brought a bottle of Schnapps to my parents from Austria. My cousin, who is actually my godmother, lives in Austria and is married to an Austrian called Johannes. The couple had come over to the house for a drink before heading out to dinner with my folks. I remember overhearing Johannes telling my parents that the drink was ‘very strong’ and to ‘go easy’ with it. They would’t dare have a drop of it before dinner. It would be a night cap kind of drink.

When I heard them talk about this dangerous but ever so exciting liquid. my ears perked up a bit like Pavlov’s dog hearing the gong. I said to myself ‘wouldn’t it be great to try this, even just the one sip’. Given that I had already broken my confirmation pledge by downing cans in Marley Park, the decision process was very short-lived. I was going to try some of this liquid magic, and that was that. It was just a case of waiting for the four grown ups to get the hell out of the house so my experiment could begin.

They left for dinner and I studied the bottle, wondering how I could have some without them noticing. It was a transparent liquid not dissimilar to water. My options were to drink a little and fill it up with water or drink a little and hope nobody noticed. I didn’t spend too much time contemplating my options however. I was much more interested in tasting the stuff. I poured myself a drop. I can remember thinking it was absolutely horrible. It was worse than cough bottle. It gave a hot sensation. It would make you wince and shake your head furiously to shake off the hideous taste.

After a few minutes, I remember feeling a sensation of lightheadedness. Suddenly the hideous taste was overpowered by a feeling of intense happiness. I liked it. In fact, I fucking loved it. I needed more and so I had more. No longer did I care about anyone noticing the missing fluid. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

I can’t remember how much I actually drank that night, some twenty years ago, all I remember is bouncing around the house. My two sisters, who I was looking after, mustn’t have known what was happening to me. My next memory of the night is lying in my bed, in a pool of vomit, with my parents looking down on me in a state of complete worry and confusion. My memory of that night is vivid. My dad stayed in the room with me. He lay on the floor beside my bed for fear that I might choke on my own vomit while asleep. He left the light on in my room all night so he wouldn’t fall asleep.

I don’t really talk to my parents about that night, but I’d say it’s a night they’ll never forget. I have no doubt they knew they had a ‘problem child’ on their hands from that day.

My College Days

My days in the Shannon College of Hotel Management were some of the best of my life. I say days because I don’t really remember the nights. I made lots of great friends during my college days, but one of my best buddies was a fella called drink. Drink would help me socialise. I would use it to medicate my acute shyness. It would also get me places. It would make me popular. I could do things on drink that I’d be too mortified to do without it. For example, impersonate teachers, sing loudly, dance like a lunatic.

Sunday and Thursday were our big nights out in Shannon. We would come back to Shannon from our respective homes on Sunday evenings in advance of classes on Monday morning. To celebrate our ‘reunion’, we’d go down to the crossroads pub for ‘a few pints’. A few would invariably become ‘a rake’ and we’d end up in the only night club that exists in Shannon; Shannon Knights, familiarly knows as ‘Shannon Shites’ or just ‘Shites’.

Whenever I went to Shites I would be well looked after. My friend Sean had a part time job behind the bar, and he would always sort me out with my aforementioned ‘special’ drink. The sheer amount of alcohol consumed on Sundays and Thursdays would allow me to still be tipsy and inhibition-free in class the next day. As the day would go on, the hangover would kick in and I’d head back to the apartment to hide. I was still in my early twenties so, while hangovers were bad on occasion, the post-binge depression wasn’t as intense. We were in our early twenties after all. Everyone is invincible in their early twenties.

As part of our four year course in hotel management, we needed to complete two industry placements, both lasting a year. My first placement (Year Two) was spent in Lausanne in Switzerland. This was one of the best years of my life. Weed was legal in the German-speaking part of the country, so I would travel to Bern every week to purchase my bag of greenery. While the number of various lines of legal weed available was many and varied, my weed of choice was called Alpine Rocket.

The laws in Switzerland were pretty odd. It wasn’t illegal to possess the weed in Lausanne. You could carry it on your person with no fear of arrest, but if you were in possession of skins and a lighter at the same time, you were in trouble as it indicated the probability that you were actually going to smoke the stuff. I know, weird, but this is Switzerland we’re talking about.

I smoked weed every day in Lausanne. The moment I’d get home, I’d roll one, Iie on the bed, light it up and allow myself to pass into a magical space. Everything was so great after a joint. I’d call people back home and chat so confidently to them about shite over the phone. I was full of wisdom when stoned. So intelligent. The fact of the matter is that it was a fake reality.

The high I’d get from weed was so much better than booze, as there’d be no major hangover. I was highly addicted. This posed a major problem when I returned to Ireland for Year Three. It wasn’t so plentiful in Ireland so my crutch had disappeared pretty much overnight. I had to return to my old friend drink in order to medicate.

About 3 weeks after returning back to college, all the students in my year had to work at an event in Citywest. It was a VIP event so Citywest hired the best possible waiters in the business. In my station there was a group of important people from Brussels. My friend Barry was working the bar at the event and he sorted me out with some wine while we were working. Pint glasses of red wine. I got so pissed at that event that I spent more time chatting loudly and inappropriately to the Brussels folk ‘en francais’, than I did serving them. My classmates told me the group really enjoyed my craic and banter although I can’t confirm this as I can’t remember. Some time later I passed out and needed to be brought to one of the bedrooms in the hotel to sober up. One of my friends took over my station.

My Twenties

Tomorrow I will be posting the chapter called ‘My Wake Up Calls’ which will detail some of the more sinister events that took place during my drinking career. Here, I’ll briefly talk about some of the more amusing incidents that I remember from my twenties.

‘Oh, Mandy’

A few years after my Swiss placement, I went back to Lausanne for a weekend with two friends, Mary and Gillian. We spent the weekend doing a lot of what we would have done when living there: boozing. I was still in the closet at this stage but had begun experimenting with guys (provided that I was drunk enough). I remember losing the two girls one night, getting into a taxi and asking the driver to bring me to a gay bar. At that stage of my life, I would usually be far too embarrassed to do this. However, given the fact that I was probably at stage 10 of drunkenness, coupled with the fact that I wouldn’t have to say the word gay (I asked him in French), I was able to ask to driver to bring me where I wanted to go.

The man brought me to a place that resembled a parish hall where geriatrics would play bingo. There were middle aged men and women sitting around round tables with a glass of wine in front of them. Up on stage there was a band singing Barry Manilow songs. Perhaps this was why the driver associated the venue with homosexuality.

For those of you who don’t know him, this is Barry Manilow

It seemed like a private event. There were no guys there who were obviously gay, or my age, but once I saw booze flowing, I entered. Alone. My memories of the night are a little vague, but I do remember walking up on stage, uninvited, and harmonising to the band’s version of ‘Mandy’. There was no security, as it wasn’t a club as such, but as far as I can remember they let me sing with them, possibly because they didn’t know how to react to such an off-the-wall situation.

I can’t remember what I did next, how I got home or how the night ended, all I remember is how upset the two girls were with me the next day. That night will haunt me forever.

Zell Am See

On another occasion I was away skiing with my friend Aine in Zell Am See, Austria. Aine and I went out on the piss most nights but there was one night in particular where she was feeling unwell and needed to go back to the guesthouse. I brought her home and went back out myself. I was already well-on so didn’t feel any shame going to clubs on my own, but suddenly I felt an urge to go to a gay bar.

I hailed a taxi which resembled a dilapidated camper van and asked him where the nearest gay bar was. I can’t remember how exactly I said it, but I probably assumed the word ‘gay’ was the same in German. The man explained that the nearest gay venue would be in a town a good 45-minutes drive away. I was happy to travel, although I think I fell asleep for the journey. My next memory is waking up in a different town and the driver pointing over at what appeared to be a corrugated iron barn whilst uttering some words in German. It was daylight now. I got (fell) out of the car and walked over to the barn, but there was no life in it whatsoever.

The man then asked me to pay him and I reached for my wallet but it wasn’t there. The man had driven me 45 minutes to a corrugated iron barn, and I had no money to pay him. As far as I can remember the man brought me back to Zell Am See, but I’m not 100% sure. I don’t know if he was ever paid.

The next morning (afternoon) I woke up in my room in the guesthouse, but it was a little different to the day before. There was no door in the room. The entire door and frame had come away from the wall and was lying on the floor in front of the bed. I had obviously fallen into my room the night before, taking the door with me. Another typical night in my drinking career.

Bongo Man

Drink wasn’t always a negative force in my life. It sometimes highlighted my hidden talents. My uncle and auntie, who live in Spain, celebrated their 25th Wedding Anniversary when I was about 26. I happened to be in Spain at the time on holidays with my folks and decided to go to the event.

I am always a little uneasy at family events. Nothing a few (dozen) bottles of San Miguel can’t fix however. It was on this occasion that my extended family learnt a few new things about me. I thought I was Placido Domingo when it came to singing, I had a hidden talent for playing the bongos, and I was very fond of the drink.

This is what Bongos look like. They will haunt me for the rest of my days.

A band was organised for the event. After the meal, they set up on stage. I was dancing away on the floor with my mum and whoever else would (reluctantly) oblige me, and I spotted a set of bongos on the stage. I joined the band and played the bongos for the entire evening. As it was a family event no one really stopped me. It was probably too awkward to do so. It’s a day I look back on and cringe all the time. What a fucking embarrassment I was.

Part Three of Why I Gave Up Drink will be posted tomorrow

Why I Gave Up Drink – Part One

July 23, 2017July 23, 2017 / PaulVStenson / 2 Comments

Hi my name’s Paul and I’m an Alcoholic.

I never thought I’d hear myself say these words and I guess I’ve always associated them with weirdos who sit around in a circle in some dirty, cold parish hall that smells of damp, holding each other’s hands and uttering some strange, almost cultish chant in unison, but it’s actually true. My name is Paul and I am an alcoholic.

The definition of alcoholism is not being able to stop when you start. That’s me. I have no ‘off switch’. I’m an all or nothing kind of guy. That’s how I’m hardwired. If you put a packet of crisps in front of me, I will finish them. If I have one alcoholic drink, I will want another. Then another. Then another. In the words of Depeche Mode, I just can’t get enough. I would often go out for a civilised dinner en famille, have a few beers with my meal and then end up roaming the streets of Dublin at 4am, asking complete strangers where the after party is.

From a young age, my impression of an alcoholic was someone you’d see begging on the Ha’ppeny Bridge with a naggin of Powers hidden in their left lapel pocket, or someone who’d go to bed with a bottle of vodka on their beside locker, ready for their first sip in the morning. That is not the case. The fact is there are alcoholics in all walks of life. The cash register attendant in Lidl, the taxi man, the Board Level Executive, the Barrister, the hairdresser. Alcoholism can affect all these people. You don’t have to drink morning noon and night to be an alcoholic. I could go several weeks without a drink. You just have to fulfil the criterion that you’re unable to stop when you start. If you can go to Coppers with your mates on a Saturday night and stop after 3 drinks, you’re very lucky. I could not.

Some weeks ago I took to Snapchat to explain to people why I didn’t drink. The reaction to the story was overwhelming. Followers were messaging me in their droves thanking me for sharing my story. I was receiving hundreds of messages of support from people in similar situations to mine. I decided to write this blog post in case I can help even one more person who is struggling with alcohol.

We have a very serious problem with drink in Ireland. We like to brush it off because ‘we’re Irish’. It’s what we do. The French drink wine. The Germans drink beer. The Italians drink coffee. The Irish just drink. We are sometimes even proud of how much we drink. It’s a mark of distinction for us Irish. The reality is that drink is ruining (some of) our lives.

I gave up alcohol on 31st July 2016. This is my story.

My Many Stages of Drunkenness

Pint 1: With every sip I’d get a buzz. My eyes would start to glisten. My smile would start to grow. Conversation was still slow, but it was warming up. I knew that the evening (day) ahead would bring joy.

Pint 2: The buzz would get more ecstatic. I’d find myself so much more relaxed. More able to converse. I’d now have less fear of judgement.

Pint 3: I’m happy now. Chatting away like mad. In actual fact what I am saying would appear (to me) to be very intelligent. I am great craic.

Pint 4: I’m nearly at the point where I’d have a cigarette, but not quite there yet. You can’t stop me talking. I’m feeling great. I matter to the world. I have an opinion. I have a strong opinion. I need people to hear it. I’m making people laugh. I’m cracking jokes. I am the business.

Pint 5: My feelings of increased intelligence would now manifest as feelings of increased superiority. I was right. No matter what words I said, I was right. I now enjoyed engaging in conversations of the intellectual kind. Conversations that would push boundaries. I needed to talk to people, as many people as possible, and show them how amazing I was. I am so proud.

Pint 6: I need a cigarette. I also need to get out to the smoking area to smoke it, but more importantly, to talk to others. I would appear to be the most confident, extroverted gob shite in the world. I need to be seen. I would be speaking to many people, but listening to hardly any. My mother always told me that when she saw me smoking “I was anybody’s”. This is probably the stage where most people would stop.

Pint 7: I am completely at ease. Maybe too much. Dancing like a twat is now on the agenda. I am on such a buzz that I don’t want to stop. I am coming across as an arrogant prick to many people, but I don’t see this. How could I? Shots anyone?

Drink 8: I am probably not drinking pints anymore, but it really depends on the circumstances. I want this buzz to intensify. The venue is getting busier. I am going to be surrounded by more and more people. I need more courage. I need more confidence. In college I was known to order double vodkas in a pint glass with Smirnoff Ice or some other form of alco-pops as a mixer. The mad man was emerging.

After drink 8, I’d want the buzz to intensify so much (I’d want to get so out of it) that I’d look outside of the boundaries of drink to assist me. I’d be looking for weed, cocaine or pills. If I had a good meal that evening, the food might have soaked up too much of the alcohol for my liking. As my inhibitions would be gone, I’d have no problem asking strangers for additional help. In fact, I’d probably come across as a bit of a lunatic asking every Tom, Dick and Harry in my vicinity to help me get a better buzz. I was relentless in my quest to find oblivion. Even though I was already well on, I can still remember nights when I’d keep asking (pestering) people for drugs. That memory would make it through my alcoholic amnesia. That’s how desperate I used to be.

I can’t really write too much about the ensuing stages of a night out, but I do have memories of standing outside nightclubs asking strangers where the after parties were. I wouldn’t want my high to end. I would want my escape to continue for as long as possible. My friends would have gone home long ago. I’d be on my own. I’d come across as a complete weirdo. Unable to stand. Sometimes unable to speak. On the many occasions where I’d end up going home with total strangers, it was probably because they felt sorry for me, they wanted to take the piss out of me, they wanted to take advantage of me, or all of the above. I have memories of waking up in houses all over Dublin, most of the time not recognising the people in the house as I’d have no memory of the night before, how I got there or what I had done.

I remember one morning waking up in a house in Dublin 8, naked on the bed, with an older man helping himself to me. This is one incident I remember, countless other similar events could have happened, I just don’t remember them.

The Paul who drank between 1- 5 pints was such a great guy. Such a laugh. So sociable. If only Paul could have stopped after 5.

The Morning After the Night Before

After a heavy session, I would not be able to leave my bed, never mind my room and certainly not my house. There would be no point. Indeed, there’d be no point to life anymore. I would hide in my bed for up to 3 days. I wouldn’t be able to answer my phone. I’d ignore my nearest and dearest. I’d be very ill. I’d hoover up takeaways but would not be able to hold them down. My work would suffer. My family would suffer. My life would suffer.

If drugs were involved, the hangover would be so much worse. My head would be in a complete mess. I can vividly remember two separate occasions where I didn’t see the need to carry on. On one occasion, when I was sitting at the table of my parent’s penthouse apartment in Terenure, waiting for my French grinds student to arrive, I questioned how exactly I would die if I were to throw myself off the balcony. Would it be quick? Was there a chance I would survive and live on in a wheelchair? Who is to say that if it weren’t for my propensity to vacillate, that the deed would not have been done. On another occasion, after a Gala ball on a Saturday night, at which I took herbal ecstasy, I was driving on the Rathgar road and didn’t think I could go on. I was feeling worthless. I called a close friend of mine and explained the situation. She calmed me down and I was okay. This event took place the Wednesday after the Saturday night session. Four days later. Such was the insidiousness of herbal drugs from hemp shops.

This is the shit drugs did for me, ladies and gentlemen. Drink was bad enough. Combining them was extremely dangerous. I am 37 now and I have no doubt that if I continued along the treacherous road of drink and drugs, I might have followed through on my instincts by now.

Part Two of Why I Gave Up Drink will be posted tomorrow.

Chapter 22: Lessons Learnt, Why The Fuck Did I Write This Blog and What’s Next For Paulie Waulie

July 8, 2014October 13, 2014 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

Before we take flight on our very final chapter, I have a little song you might like to hear. My advice is to press play on the video, and let the song play as you read through the chapter. I’m sure the song will end before you finish reading; it’s only 12 minutes long, after all.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSUIQgEVDM4

Lessons Learnt

Despite all the bullshit I had to put up with, I did enjoy starting OnlineGrinds.ie and working on the project for nearly 3 years, even if I never received a cent payment. However, if I was to do it all again, my approach would be somewhat different, to say the least. If I had a few words of advice for any entrepreneur starting up their own business, it would be the following:

Team

If you are going to take on a team on an equity share basis, research all team members well before you take anybody on. Use a fine tooth comb during this process. Don’t rush into things. Don’t take on a web developer ‘because you know him’. Take a look at projects they have worked on before, check the number of fans they have on social media sites etc. If you see that the large majority of their work falls into the vintage website category, you can assume that this project will follow suit. If the vintage style of website isn’t something you are too keen on, keep looking.

If they say they will develop and design a website from scratch, with all the capability of broadcasting live and interactive online grinds, this does not mean they should simply purchase third party plugins and insert them into their very basic site structure. That’s cheating. All the code should be indigenous. Otherwise the company will have very little IP, which means in the event of sale, it will have very little value. Besides, a blind ape with no arms could develop a website if it was simply based on third party plugins and no indigenous code, and you wouldn’t have to give him any equity at all.

A friend of mine said to me yesterday, “I’m sure it must kill you to wonder how OLG might have taken off with the right team”. She is dead right (thanks again T.).

Power

Never yield too much power. Always retain more control than anybody else. Otherwise they’ll walk all over you like a race horse on a fallen jockey. Never give away more than 49% equity. Always retain 51% for your good self. More power to you.

Don’t Take Bullshit

If your tech partner decides to drop a bomb 2 days before your official launch, stating that the majority of the source code of the site belongs to HIS Company, not your joint company, and that there is no value in the site he was commissioned to develop, tell him to fuck off. Threaten to pull the plug on the project if he doesn’t cop the fuck on. Don’t let your pride stand in the way of bullshit like this. It’s infinitely better to delay your launch, and find a proper developer, than to launch with a cunt like this. In the long run you will be far better off.

If your tech partner starts acting like a contractor, rather than an owner, get rid of him. He is a liability to the company. There is something wrong when your tech partner, who has the same equity stake as you, starts putting time limits on his work output, and spends more time writing emails about how much work he won’t do, rather than actually doing any work on the project itself. He needs to go. Simple as.

For some reason I envisaged BS to be a hoody-wearing, idea-generating, Mark Zuckerberg type who would rock in to me in the office at 7am saying “Paul I was up till 3am working on this new page, I’ve had this awesome new idea”. But no, BS didn’t come up with 1 idea for OnlineGrinds.ie. That was up to the rest of the team. And whenever we brought up an idea, and asked him to implement it, he would reply with 2 words, “Phase 2”.

I firmly believe (and I could be very wrong) that Sean often wonders if I was the right person to go, and that maybe it should have been BS who was ousted. I guess I will never know the answer to that question.

Consider What You Say To Others

If you receive love letters from Arthur’s Cock and Everyone Shites, choose wisely who you share them with. One of my biggest regrets is showing MBB AKA CUNT the second love letter from Everyone Shites. Who’s to say that Learnology wouldn’t still be still going, if I had kept the letter to myself.

Dwarves

Always employ a group of dwarves, they are indispensable.

Cash

If you notice that the amount of cash coming in to the business represents a mere fifth of the amount going out (a ratio of 1:4), take a step back and question your business model. Call a halt to the dwarves; tell them to take a seat and have some tea and cakes, or a round of Jägerbombs and a few lines (whatever they’re into). You need to seriously review what you are doing.

Office

They say that it’s good to locate your desk near a window so that you can take momentary breaks from the computer screen and give your eyes a rest by looking out at the beautiful views in front of you. This principle works particularly well when you have an art workshop across the road with life drawing classes every evening. I wouldn’t recommend locating anywhere else.

Law and Lawyers

Read up on company law. Know your rights. Always be able to distinguish a real threat from a shot across the bow. My rule of thumb: if a love letter is signed with the company name, rather than an individual lawyer’s name, it’s an idle threat.

Be able to differentiate company lawyers from litigators (Daniel O’Donnell vs. Vince Vaughan). This tacit knowledge could save your life, one day.

Why The Fuck Did I Write This Blog?

There are a number of reasons why I decided to write my story:

(a) So many people ask me how OnlineGrinds.ie is going. To spare these people the 3 hour explanation that I usually have to give them (and to spare me the 3 hours each time someone asks), I wrote this blog. Now I can simply point them in the direction of www.paulstenson.com and, if they care enough, they can read it. If they don’t care, they can pretend to read it (and slyly have RedTube open in another window).

(b) To vent my frustration. I am sure you can appreciate that my mental health was pushed to its outer extremities while I was working with BS (note that the verb ‘working’ applies to me, rather than BS). This blog provided an outlet for me to vent my anger and extinguish the fire that has built up inside over the past 3 years. As I said in one chapter, it was far better than any form of conventional therapy.

(c) To try my luck at writing. Writing is something I have always wanted to try, and I actually fucking enjoyed it. It was almost (quite literally) a sexual experience at certain points. Most of the time, I had no preconception of what to write and it simply came to me as I was typing (as it is now).

I did try to get an editor or ten to glance over my work. Most editors took one look at the story and turned it down immediately on the basis that the content was far too risqué. One editor came back saying that she would have no issue working with me, as long as I toned it down slightly. This didn’t happen.

I am much happier to be able to tell my story (vitriolic as it may be) i.e. the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me dog (I’m an atheist), even at the expense of one or two grammatical errors and/or misspellings, than have an editor tone down my words.

Many thanks again to all my friends and family who were worried about me. I couldn’t count on 3 hands the number of people who asked me “are you sure you won’t get into legal hot water with this blog Paul?” to which I generally replied “oh I sincerely hope I do”.

(d) To see how many solicitor’s letters I could get. To date I haven’t received any SL’s which is a little disheartening, if I’m honest. I tried my best to make life easy for the solicitors; I even put the letters (SL) around the blog for their convenience. But alas, no letters at all. I am living in the hope that maybe they are waiting for me to publish my final chapter and then they can send one big letter containing all the offences throughout the blog, as opposed to hundreds of letters each containing one offence. This is not ideally how I would have liked it, but I guess it will have to do.

Please solicitors, I am pleading with you at this stage. Please please please send me at least one letter. You can ignore the instructions I gave you in Chapter 1 and use whatever kind of language you want. I promise I won’t give out. Pretty pretty please???

(e) Legal representation. Believe it or not, I have already received a number of offers of legal representation from blog readers. Having read the blog, they said that I may well have a case against Sean & Co., and that they would be willing to consider representing me on a no foal, no fee basis. My initial reaction to them was that of ‘meh’, but then when I thought about the suit-buying opportunity this would present, my opinion changed completely. I’m a little conflicted now however; if I did go to court and had to breathe the same air as BS in the courtroom, I think I might be traumatised for life. So, let’s just say ‘the jury is out’ on this option.

(f) Investment. One particular man who read the blog wants to have coffee with me about potentially getting Learnology back up and running. He said it “was too much of a great brand to let go”. While seeking investment funds was never an intention of writing the blog, I am going to meet him; for the craic, if nothing else (hi A. if you are reading this!). While this is not at the top of my priority list, it is exceedingly more probable than option (e).

(g) To draw a line under the nightmare that has been the last 3 years. The main objective of writing this blog was to put an end to the horror that was OnlineGrinds.ie. The lads have the company now, and as a matter of fact, I wish them well (even BS). I am not sure what their intentions are, and whether the cancellation of the May revision courses was an admission by Sean & Co. that “this is the end, beautiful friends, the end”. I guess we won’t know until their “full launch next Sept”, if it ever happens.

With the right changes, the company has potential to do well. Ashfield teachers are without a shadow of a doubt the best in the country, and the picture we have painted of OnlineGrinds.ie in the media means it is already a recognised brand (again, good enough to do a deal with Ashfield). If the lads can get the business right by creating a freemium model and tidying up things in the tech department, they could actually do very well for themselves.

They may even still have a chance of getting in there before Alison.com, as Alison are only running free maths grinds at the moment. If OnlineGrinds.ie can roll out all subjects, for free, this September, they may beat Alison to the mark, and have a chance of success.

What’s Next For Paulie Waulie

While I lost both OnlineGrinds.ie and Learnology, this doesn’t mean that I am exiting the grinds industry altogether. Despite the fact that the entire industry is worth only €40m per annum (a very limited pot) I do want to keep one egg in this basket. But I have no intention of devoting 100% of my time to a space where the maximum I could potentially make per year is €40m. You might think I am joking, I’m actually not.

Any website where there is a lot of human involvement upfront (like OnlineGrinds.ie) is costly, as you have to pay these humans. The only way you will make money on a website in the grinds industry (or any industry) is if the website generates passive income. Look at the likes of Adverts.ie, Boards.ie, Daft,ie (pretty much any of the Fallon Bros sites); these are all passive income generators. You don’t have gob shites acting the clown on camera, and being paid €110 per hour to do so, while you have 2 viewers watching them, each paying €10. Look at the likes of Cartell.ie or TripAdvisor.com. These are user generated content, database-driven websites, again with little if not no front-line labour. Again, more classic examples of passive income generators. This is where the money is at folks.

To that end, my next grinds related venture requires little or no front-line labour. It’s called GrindsAdvisor.ie and it’s launching in September. For fear of boring you, here is a quick low down on the new biz.

At the moment, if a student wants to do grinds, there is no independent website that reviews and advises on the grinds options available in their area. Students and parents have to do all the research themselves, which usually (and solely) involves checking out the individual grind provider websites. The mummy and student visit a grind school website where the school blows their own trumpet until the cows come home, saying how amazingly, awesomely, fantastically, outstanding they are. The mummy gives her credit card details and pays for a term of grinds, unaware as to the quality of teachers on offer and whether the exorbitant price being paid actually represents value for money, or not. Ditto for online grinds websites and, to some extent, one to one grinds.

Grindsadvisor.ie is a user generated content site (a bit like Tripadvisor; similar model) that will provide reviews and advice on the grinds options available to secondary students across Ireland in terms of price, teacher quality and convenience. It’s an independent advice platform for students and parents to voice their opinions, concerns and advice on grinds providers, so that students are well informed before they fork out anything between €2,000 and €4,000, which is the average amount a parent will pay on grinds in the exam year (Student Enrichment Services Survey, 2010).

In case the Kearns family from the Institute of Education and Sean & Co. from OnlineGrinds.ie (for example) are pooing their pants at the thought of Paul Stenson slating them on his new website. Please don’t worry guys. Paul won’t be doing any slating whatsoever; the students and parents will. However, if you get your act together guys i.e. stop ripping people off IOE, and get your business model right OLG, you won’t give them any reason to slate you; you may even give them reason to praise you. We know how damaging the likes of Patrick’s Tweets in yesterday’s chapter can be for your business. Don’t give students like Patrick any bait in the first place, and all will be well.

GrindsAdvisor.ie aside for a minute, in any of my future ventures, I am going to exercise extreme care and caution in relation to who I work with. The BS saga has certainly taught me a lesson I will never forget. I am increasingly thinking about working purely with animals going forward. I much prefer animals to humans. Certainly on my list of potential projects for the future is a 5 star hotel for pets. The animals will be treated like royalty; they will have ensuite bedrooms with plasma screens showing pet related movies (not Marley and me), and they will get their meals delivered by room service; sushi for cats, sirloin steak for dogs. If you are an investor and would like a slice of this pie, I am taking inquiries now.

That’s All Folks

That’s all folks. Thanks for reading my blog. Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry again if some of the language seemed crude, and some of the themes seemed unsophisticated. But that’s me, and I make no apologies for being me.

If you want to contact me for any reason, maybe you are a lawyer who wants to represent me, or an investor who wants to make a massive return, you can get me at my email:

p_stenson@hotmail.com

Before I go, I promised you I would revisit the cunt poll to see who has been the biggest cunt in this blog. Here are the updated results as of today 08/07/2014:

As you can see, BS is improving nicely, he has gone from 62.5% to 66%. Both MBB AKA CUNT and Sean are also gaining ground.

Rest assured that the poll will remain open for the foreseeable future. As long as the blog is live, the poll will be live. Also, if there is any movement on the SL front, or any more kind gestures from BS (like yesterday), I will make a point of sharing them here on the blog, so that you are kept in the loop. Just because you won’t have daily chapter updates, doesn’t mean the blog will wither on the vine.

Over and out.

Chapter 21: From €10 per grind to €75 per grind and Bye Bye OnlineGrinds.ie

July 7, 2014July 7, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

Before we embark on the penultimate chapter, may I advise that we had some breaking news this afternoon. If you didn’t get this news, you can read it here.

From €10 per grind to €75 per grind

In reply to my ‘heads up’ email to Sean in which I warned him about the Larry O’Driscoll (LOD) scumbag, he sent me an email asking me to make the assets available immediately, stating that LOD had his authorisation to collect them. I advised Sean that I would not be handing over the assets under any circumstances, as the transfer of the business of OnlineGrinds.ie to his company was illegal. He replied saying that if I didn’t hand over the assets, he would purchase new equipment and make me pay the replacement costs. Yet another idle threat. Sean had cried wolf once or twice too many for me to believe him this time.

Whether it happened with the assets I had, or the new ones Sean would purchase, Sean & Co. were adamant to truck on with Ashfield, less little Paulie Waulie. A different shareholding structure was now in place. I am unsure how Ashfield College fitted into this new structure, but I am sure of one thing; my company, in fact, my two companies, were gone. I didn’t receive a cent payment, neither for founding the company, nor for all the hard work I had put in over the past 3 years to bring the company to the position it was in. A position good enough to do a deal with Ashfield College.

Such was the impact OnlineGrinds.ie had on the grinds industry, and on the media in general. Ashfield was one of the most well-known traditional grind schools in Ireland. It was voted the best grind school in the country last year. I have first hand experience of how good it is, as I went to Ashfield myself to repeat my Leaving Cert. Notwithstanding the fact that I got 5 points less second time round (290 in Ashfield 1999, 295 in Mary’s 1998), I still got my second honour which got me into the Shannon College of Hotel Management. For this, Ashfield, I am eternally grateful.

An accolade received by Ashfield in 2013

In many ways I feel sorry for Ashfield for getting involved with Sean & Co. Little did they know what they were getting themselves into. I guess the picture we (Aine and I) painted of OnlineGrinds.ie in the media over the past few years would have made them believe that it had real potential to succeed. I am sure they assumed (again given the media coverage) that our tech team was up to it, and that our website was state of the art. They probably even bought into the vintage website look.

Sean & Co. would have backed up this confidence during their talks with the college. I have no doubt that they told Ashfield that the live grinds worked really well, that there were never any tech issues, and that online grinds is a great alternative to traditional grinds. And why would they say anything else? Maybe if they had actually been present for a live broadcast from start to finish, they might have realised otherwise.

A number of weeks went by and there was no movement on the OnlineGrinds.ie site, not even a mention of live grinds. As you can imagine, I kept a very keen eye on its progress. Suddenly, just before Easter, there was an announcement that they would be running Easter Revision Courses. But wait for it, the price would be €75 per subject. Yes, you read correctly, seventy fucking five. This would be a justifiable price to pay if Karla was doing the Biology grinds, but seeing as she was a hoax, this was a laughable price to pay.

One of my objectives of starting OnlineGrinds.ie was to provide a low cost alternative to traditional grinds. Making grinds more accessible for those currently doing them (Chloe and Greg) and more affordable for those who could never afford them in the first place (Stacey and Jason). We were going to charge a maximum of €10 per live class, where you could ask the teacher questions and download and print their excellent quality notes. Opting for a monthly subscription would make the live classes even better value. This model obviously didn’t bear fruit, but it did result in one hell of a bonfire in Ballymun.

As we lost rather than made money with this model, my thinking changed throughout the course of the project. We could not charge for grinds if there were so many tech issues. The only way forward for OnlineGrinds.ie was to provide the grinds for free, and to make money with advertising. But of course when I proposed the idea of a freemium model to the guys, it was duly ignored and the focus was shifted on my involvement with Learnology, rather than on the progression of OnlineGrinds.ie. Coincidentally, a number of months later, an education giant called Alison.com entered the market doing online grinds for free. If only they had listened to me and not acted the prick, says you. I wonder who would win a web development contest between the might of Alison.com vs. the ability of BS? Hmmmmmm. Rhetorical question if there ever was one.

Despite the fact that our €10 model didn’t work, and that I had proposed going down the freemium route, they made the courses €75 per subject. I know I am a fuckin eejit and all, so my opinion probably doesn’t count, but can you see any logic at all in this price? €75 would be eminently acceptable if Karla and her boyfriend were going to demonstrate the ‘ins and outs’ of the human reproductive system on camera, but it would represent very bad value for money if the actual, real-life, questionably average looking Biology teacher was simply going to knock one out (a class that is) on her own.

So, having learnt of the exorbitant Easter Revision courses, I kept a daily, close eye on the number of registrations on the site. You could see this number very easily. Every time a new member joined the site, this person would automatically become a member of the forum, and you could see the number of forum members (rise or fall) at the bottom of the page. Despite the amount of money the lads (the dwarves) seemed to be putting into radio ad campaigns on the likes of 4FM (fucking into the bonfire), registration numbers grew in single figures on a daily basis. Nothing had changed at all.

Forum page showing number of forum members (student registrations) on site

The Easter revision courses were going to be six hours long (yes, I said six). Doing one hour long classes presented enough technical challenges for me to have no finger nails remaining, never mind six hour classes. But that’s probably because I am not a techie and was left to fend for myself in the tech department during every broadcast we did. I often wondered would BS spend any time in the studio now that they were doing six hour courses with Ashfield. A pig just flew over my head.

The six hour Easter revision courses kicked off and while the messages on their Facebook page were full of hope, the student registration numbers were full of despair. I thought to myself: ‘these guys are never going to learn’.

Easter came and went and I had no idea how the courses went for the guys. There was a small part of me actually wishing them well. That is until mental images of BS came into my mind. Whenever that happened I would wish them a slow and painful death. The thing is that the teachers delivering these courses were probably some of the best in the country. This had the potential to really work. They needed to get the business model right (freemium) and get BS the hell out of there. No point in having the best teachers in the country if BS was in charge of IT. It’s just not right. It’s like having a Ferrari but only being able to drive it down a boreen (not sure if that’s spelled correctly; I mean a tiny country road with grass in the centre and cow shit everywhere).

The Easter Revision courses ended and there was little activity on the website front for weeks. The Easter Revision wording remained on the homepage for weeks, then months. Indeed, it’s still there, and it’s now July. The days are getting shorter; it will soon be Christmas, and the wording remains. I’d say at this stage he’s leaving it there until next Easter, to save him the work of typing the words ‘Easter’ and ‘Revision’ all over again. There’s a multitude of countries that could be explored in the time it would take him to do this.

Bye Bye OnlineGrinds.ie

Sometime in early May there was a rather timid and meek announcement on the OnlineGrinds.ie Facebook page about Leaving and Junior Cert final revision courses. I don’t think the announcement on Facebook got any likes or shares, not even by the OnlineGrinds.ie staff themselves. The website text about the course was nearly as long as this blog. It mentioned how the maths classes would be free to all (HURRAY, SENSE AT LAST!) and that the rest of the courses would only be €30 each. A friend of mine summed it up beautifully in one sentence “they clearly didn’t make a penny over Easter”.

I have never seen website wording as apologetic as I did on the homepage in relation to the final revision courses. It was as if OnlineGrinds.ie were indebted to the students in some strange way. The wording was pretty desperate. It went a bit like “if you are not sure that this will help you, try it for free” whereas it should have read “to see why this is the most awesome alternative to traditional grinds, we are giving you a free sneaky peak”. But then again, all the content was coming from BS, and he is no more a marketer than he is a web developer (SL).

The page told you what you’d get if you paid €30. You’d get so much of this, so much of that and so much of the other “for ONLY €30 – it’s a STEAL!” If this didn’t make you wonder “what’s wrong with this service that they have to give away everything so cheaply?” I don’t know what would.

Despite the fact that the lads were virtually paying the students to register on the site, the uptake didn’t seem significant. Single figures increases on a daily basis.

Low on behold on the 24^th May 2014, two days before the course was due to start, and a week before the Leaving and Junior Cert exams began, the following announcement was made on their Facebook page:

Let’s dissect this for a minute. Let’s pretend you’re a Leaving Cert student, doing your Leaving Cert this year. The fact that there is now more time to ‘roll our some server side updates’ MEANS NOTHING to you. Not only because you haven’t a fucking clue what this means, but also because you are doing your Leaving Cert THIS YEAR, not fucking next year.

If you read into things as deeply as I do (I am the world’s worst for that), would you not wonder why they hadn’t said anything about what was going to happen to students who had already paid? Something along the lines of “we will make full refunds to all students who have already signed up for this course”. Could it be because not one person had actually paid?

The guys cancelled the revision course for one of two reasons, both as plausible as each other: (a) nobody at all signed up for the course or (b) the tech issues were too great to warrant running the courses.

Either way, no final revision for students. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

One student vented his frustration on Twitter:

It looked like BS was telling the truth when he said he was very busy all year. So busy that he forgot to change the Twitter wallpaper on the left, which was out of date……….by 16 months.

Next Chapter – Chapter 22: Lessons Learnt, Why The Fuck Did I Write This Blog and What’s Next For Paulie Waulie

Breaking News

July 7, 2014July 7, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

Before I bring you tonight’s chapter, I interrupt this blog with some breaking news.

Did anybody notice in yesterday’s chapter that clicking the link to OnlineGrinds.ie brought you to my personal Facebook page?

I think I know what’s happening. It looks like BS has made the kind gesture of putting a redirect on the site so that if you click on an inbound link from my blog to OnlineGrinds.ie, it will redirect you to my personal Facebook page.

Try again here: www.onlinegrinds.ie

Yep, looks like that will bring you to my Facebook too.

He must be doing this as a way of saying sorry to me for all that’s happened. He probably thinks that I will get more Facebook friends if he redirects people here. How nice of him.

The only thing I would be worried about is that this could appear to be an admission by BS that there is something to hide on the website, and that he doesn’t really want people seeing it. Could it be the Easter wording in July? Your guess is as good as mine.

If you really want to see it, so you can see what he is trying to hide, you can follow these three simple steps:

1. Copy http://www.onlinegrinds.ie

2. Paste into url bar

3. Press enter

It’s a simple as that. Maybe we should have a competition. The first person to spot what BS is trying to hide on the OnlineGrinds.ie website wins a prize! Sound good? Let me think of a prize and get back to you :).

Also, if you want to see my personal Facebook, it’s clearly visible by clicking the link under my mug shot to the top left of the blog. You see the big F? That’s it. And feel free to add me as a friend. I love receiving new friend requests, especially if you are hot.

As a way of saying thanks to BS for bringing people to my personal Facebook, I think it would be only fair to return the favour by directing you to his company Facebook page. Let’s try to get him a few more likes than 26; he does run an IT company after all!

https://www.facebook.com/Sulware

Screenshot today (just in case he tries to fuck with this link too).

Next Chapter: Chapter 21: From €10 per grind to €75 per grind and Bye Bye OnlineGrinds.ie

Chapter 20: Give Me The Assets or You’re Fucking Dead and The Hackers Attack

July 6, 2014July 7, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

Give Me The Assets or You’re Fucking Dead

The assets of the business were both tangible and intangible. The tangible assets included computer, camera, sound and lighting equipment (pretty much anything needed to broadcast live grinds). The intangible assets consisted mostly of login details and passwords for various social media and email accounts. I was not going to part with either.

When the dwarves fucked our final barrel of cash into the bonfire, we were no longer able to pay our office and studio rent, so we (I) had to move out. Thank you again to my friend Barry (who had nothing to do with OnlineGrinds.ie) for helping me move the stuff.

In the absence of somewhere more suitable to keep all the equipment, I kept it in my home in Ballsbridge. This was a very privileged location for the equipment, as there was a Doberman guarding it 24/7.

The Doberman I commissioned to guard the OnlineGrinds.ie assets. Here he is protecting the perspex sign that once hung on the office wall.

Sean was under pressure to get the assets to BS before he returned back to the UK. He had come over especially for the EGM, and was leaving a day or two later. After several attempts to ring me to arrange a pick up point and time (which I regretfully wasn’t able to answer as I was too busy perming my hair), he ended up calling out to my home one evening unannounced. When he didn’t find me there (I think I was at my flower arranging class), he left a note under my door saying that he would call back later.

In many ways I felt sorry for Sean. He had to do all the dirty work. BS would never have called around to me to get the assets. He wouldn’t have been able to face me. He is probably right though. I don’t think I would have been able to resist the urge to wrap a concrete block around his Florida white smile, if he ever did.

As it happened, I was moving out of my place in Wellington Place at the time in search of greener pastures with larger running space for my pooch. The assets, both tangible and intangible, came with me.

As I was leaving work one day, I received a phone call from a mobile number. Unlike blocked numbers, I tend to answer unknown numbers, particularly mobile numbers. I have a very strict policy with blocked numbers; if you don’t want to identify yourself, I don’t want to answer. Anyway, on the other end was a gentleman by the name of Larry O’Driscoll (LOD). A transcript of the conversation can be found below. If would prefer to hear me act it out, click below:

Paul: Hello

LOD: Hello is that Paul Stenson

Paul: It sure is! Who is this?

LOD: My name is Larry O’Driscoll. I believe you have some assets belonging to Moreland Investments Ltd.?

Paul: What company are you calling from? You are ringing me from a mobile phone, you know that?

LOD: As I said my name is Larry O’Driscoll. I collect business assets on behalf of my clients.

Paul: Well I am sorry but the assets I have belong to my company, not Moreland Investments. I am still dealing with Sean K*****y in relation to this.

LOD: What is the nature of your dealings with Sean K*****y?

Paul: Take care mate.

Asking me what was the nature of my dealings with Sean? Is he for real? I would have actually kept speaking to this man, but getting personal like that? Fuck that for a game of soldiers.

Needless to say I wrote Sean an email warning him about this dude. See below:

Email I sent Sean warning him about dodgy Larry

As I had moved out of my house, I guess I had escaped from LOD. I have no doubt in my mind whatsoever that he probably called around to my ex-home to try to physically strip me of the assets, using extreme force. I’d say he would have been armed with either a crowbar or a baseball bat. Something blunt. A sharp object wouldn’t have been his style. That would have been far too easy. LOD needed a challenge when he was faced with the task of beating the shit out of me.

LOD seemed like the roughest of the rough. I’d say he was associated with Martin Cahill in some way. Certainly from the same school, probably from the same family. I must say I write about him with a large degree of trepidation. You’d think I might be scared about posting love letters from Arthur’s Cock and Everyone Shites? Not a chance. But writing about LOD in my blog; a whole different story altogether. In fact, there are droplets of wee wee coming out of my willy intermittently as I write this section.

I am firmly of the opinion that LOD will try to murder me when he reads this. If you are reading this LOD, please be advised that I have a three year old Doberman who is currently undergoing both defence AND attack training. In addition (and far more impressive in my mind), I hold a Purple belt in Kenpo Karate. Approach me at your peril, with extreme caution.

The Hackers Attack

One morning after I woke up from a nightmare in which I was being kneecapped by LOD, I was eating my breakfast whilst creeping on somebody’s pics on Facebook (as you do). What I saw in my news feed made me nearly choke on the piece of wholemeal toast I was masticating. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Take a look:

A Facebook post introducing one of OnlineGrinds.ie’s new teachers

The new OnlineGrinds.ie Facebook cover photo and a post with their complaints policy

It looked like my ex partners had completely changed their approach to delivering grinds. They had introduced topless teachers.

I admit, this was not something I had thought of when I was coming up with ideas for the company. So I thought “fair fucks to them, they may have a chance now”. Even if BS was still at the helm, this kind of semen change……I mean……sea change, would certainly ensure that their business would improve, if not thrive, forevermore. However, when I went over to the actual website to see the new line up of big boobed beauties in action, they were nowhere to be seen. The staff-room was still full of boring, non-descript, lacklustre, glasses-wearing, check shirt sporting, teachers from Ashfield College. No tits. No cocks. No action. No point.

It turned out that someone had hacked into the Facebook account and was bringing the expression ‘taking the piss’ to a whole new level. I wanted to make passionate love to this person, let alone shake their hand. To this day I don’t know who the hacker is. If you are reading this, hacker, please make yourself known to me. I would like to buy you an abundance of pints.

Some time later, I was on the OnlineGrinds.ie website to see how out of date it was. When I say out of date, I am not referring to the general design of the site; we all know that BS was going for the vintage look here (which he pulled off very well). I am talking about the site content itself. I was curious to see whether BS was spending any more time on the project now than he did when I was there. Unfortunately I didn’t manage to find any evidence of this. Indeed, it doesn’t look like he has worked on OnlineGrinds.ie at all since Easter. If you look at the site today, the 6th of July 2014, you will still see the words ‘New’ and ‘Easter’ on the homepage. Brilliant first impression for first time visitors to OnlineGrinds.ie.

Screenshot of website today

Anyway, while I was on the site, I took a trip down memory lane and clicked into the Student Ambassador Program (SAP) page. The SAP was a scheme I set up where students would receive cash for spreading the word about our company. As a Irish Indo journo once said, we were “injecting entrepreneurship into the secondary school system with this innovative scheme”.

We had a video embedded on the SAP page with yours truly explaining how the program worked. For reasons of nostalgia (as opposed to vanity), I clicked in to watched this video that we had recorded nearly 2 years prior. But when the video started playing, a strange empty box appeared in the centre of the screen. I hovered over the box and up popped a very strange, but extremely funny, message. Obviously the hacker had taken control of the YouTube account too. Take a look for yourselves (hover over the box in the centre of the screen – note: this only works on a desktop, you will not see the funny message on a smartphone):

The chances are that this video could have been live on the OnlineGrinds.ie site for weeks if not months, without anybody noticing it. It’s no longer there, however. So I guess a student probably noticed it in the end, in which case it was brought to the attention of BS (who was probably lounging in a hammock in Koh Samui at the time), and it was removed from the page 16 days later. BS wouldn’t have been sharp enough to see something like this himself.

Next Chapter – Breaking News

Chapter 19: 3K Any Good To Ya and EGM – Abrakedabra and Paul Is Gone

July 5, 2014July 7, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

Results of Cunt Contest

As promised, I am including the results of yesterday’s Cunt Poll in today’s chapter. My sincere thanks to all 32 of you who have voted in the past 24 hours. If you are reading this and didn’t vote at the end of the last chapter, please take a second to go back to cast your vote. The poll will remain open and we will revisit the results at the end of the blog. Remember the poll is set up in such a way that only 1 vote counts per IP address. As much as you’d love to give BS hundreds and thousands of votes, sadly only 1 vote will count per person.

With an astonishing 62% of the votes, BS wins hands down as the biggest cunt in the blog. He received 20 votes. And no, these weren’t all from me. As I said, the poll only allowed 1 vote per person. If I was allowed to vote for BS more than once, his number of votes would have been in 7 figures, at least.

In second place, coming in with a not too shabby 25%, is MBB AKA CUNT. He received 8 votes. This is probably due to the information I ‘elected’ to release about him in yesterday’s episode.

Finally, with 13%, Sean wins the bronze medal. This was the most interesting result for me. There are some of you (4 people) who actually believe that Sean was a bigger cunt than BS and MBB AKA CUNT. I guess some of you think that Sean is a bit like a fart, in that sometimes the silent ones are the most deadly.

I would like to take this opportunity to express my sincere thanks to my special friend Sam who has volunteered to bake a cunt cake for BS as a prize for winning the cunt contest. Once the cake is baked and iced I will take a photo and upload it to the blog before we have it couriered over to BS’s apartment. I would also like to congratulate BS on winning this coveted prize and for being the biggest cunt in this blog, and possibly of all time.

Incidentally, somebody viewed the blog yesterday from the Seychelles. If this is you, can you please identify yourself by commenting in the comment box below. Otherwise I will have to assume that BS is off sunning himself (again).

Now, back to the blog.

3K Any Good To Ya?

Weeks pass and still no sign of the legal action I was ‘promised’ in my last paper airplane. I was unsure what was happening. Would I or wouldn’t I have an exciting day in town shopping for a new suit, or would it be business as usual.

On the 21^st January 2014, over a month after receiving the Everyone Shites love letter part deux, I received this email from Sean:

Sean’s email regarding Loan Note. Note the presence of the word ‘assets’ and the absence of the word ‘business’.

So, what the hell did this mean? Sean was obviously willing to give me something, albeit a derisory amount. Otherwise he was going to transfer the assets of OnlineGrinds.ie to his company. Why was this? To what use could these assets be put in his company? The rest of the business; website, goodwill, IP, customer database etc. would still remain the property of Stenson Institute (trading as OnlineGrinds.ie). Why would he separate them? What would he do with the camera and broadcasting equipment ? Was he in cahoots with the dwarves to set up the first dwarf porn website in history? That would be a first, I suppose. Dwarf porn, hmmmmmm. I am becoming sexually aroused even at the thought.

Unsure as to what he was playing at, the insult of offering me €3k overshadowed this question. I replied back saying that I was not prepared to accept this pitiful amount, given the two and a half years work I had put into this company, not to mention the fact that the whole company was my idea in the first place.

EGM – Abrakedabra and Paul Is Gone!

On 27^th January 2014, I received the following:

I was confused. Sean & Co. now wanted to transfer the assets AND BUSINESS of OnlineGrinds.ie from Stenson Institute Ltd. to his company Moreland Investments Ltd. But hang on, this is not what he said in his email, nor is it what was outlined in the loan note. He can’t do this? The loan note says his company can have the assets, but it says NOTHING about the business. See relevant section in loan note:

Again note the presence of the word ‘assets’ and the absence of the word ‘business’.

If Sean & Co. were able to take the assets and the business from Stenson Institute and bring it over to Moreland Investments, they could simply pick up from where we left off and run OnlineGrinds.ie without me under the new umbrella of Moreland. It would remove me completely from the equation. I know you are thinking now that I was happy to be removed from the equation completely a few months back, but that was while I still had Learnology! Now Learnology was gone (because of Sean & Co.) and this ‘transfer’ would mean OnlineGrinds.ie would also be ‘taken’ from me.

As you can see in the EGM notice, they were proposing that the sale/transfer would be considered an ordinary resolution of the company. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s simply that the resolution could be passed at the EGM by a simple show of hands. So, Sean, BS and Cillian raise their pinkies and hey presto, Paul vanishes.

This worried me a little. But then I decided to take out the Shareholder’s Agreement to see if I could find any protection for me in here. The Shareholder’s Agreement was a load of legal horse manure. Again a document written in Arabic would be easier to understand. But I managed to pick out a section under which I was protected.

Here was my condom:

I know what you’re thinking and it’s probably along the lines of “What the hell does all that mean?” Well, my understanding is as follows:

In order for the business of the company (never mind the assets, Sean had rightful claim on these) to be sold to Sean’s company, there needed to be approval by the holders of 75% of the issued share capital in the company. As I owned 28.19% of the company, the max they would be able to reach is 71.81% and therefore the sale would not be allowed.

Phew! I was safe! There was no way this could be done.

However, the next day I got another email from Sean with an attachment entitled ‘Termination of the Shareholder’s Agreement’. See below:

The lads were really taking the piss here. How the fuck could they casually decide that the Shareholders Agreement be terminated, in a kind of ‘by the way’ type fashion? Surely this needed approval by me too?

As you can see at the end of the letter, they request my consent to transfer the business over to Moreland Investments. They did not have my consent.

Notwithstanding the fact that they didn’t have my consent, the EGM went ahead and both the assets and business of Stenson Institute Ltd. were transferred to Sean’s company, Moreland Investments Ltd. To this day I don’t believe that the Shareholder’s Agreement was legally terminated and therefore believe that the sale of the business of Stenson Institute, with or without my consent, was also illegal.

The fact of the matter is, the lads knew they were not legally entitled to either (a) transfer the business or (b) cancel the Shareholder’s Agreement. I called my solicitor and asked her could they actually do this. She replied by saying: ‘they can try anything Paul, the question is are you prepared to fight them”. By fighting them, she meant seeking an injunction to prevent them from doing this. I asked her how much this would cost, and she said that I wouldn’t have much change out of €15k.

Sean and BS knew that I didn’t have this kind of money to spare. So, fully aware that what they were doing was against the law, and safe in the knowledge that I didn’t have the financial wherewithal to block them, they went ahead and removed me from the company I founded, and carried on with the company, minus yours truly. I had now lost both Learnology and OnlineGrinds.ie.

Note:

Now that they had transferred the assets over to to Moreland Investments (which I admit was legal), they needed to physically get their hands on these assets. But where were they? You guessed right. They were in my gaff.

The tango was a dance I always wanted to learn. Now was a perfect time for me to take up this new hobby.

Next Chapter – Chapter 20: Give Me The Assets or You’re Fucking Dead and The Hackers Attack

Chapter 18: Bye Bye Learnology and The Jack & Jill Lollipop Story

July 4, 2014July 7, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

Bye Bye Learnology

Being the incredibly stupid person that I am, I told the boys in Learnology about the ‘oops’ email and the potential joining together of Sean & Co. and Ashfield in holy matrimony. I thought I was doing the right thing by telling them. Despite my being wired to the moon and sometimes (often) a complete fuckin eejit, I’m an honest chap I am. In hindsight, I wish I had kept my gob-shite gob shut.

When I showed MBB the second love letter from Everyone Shites, he became very worried. I was showing it to him against a backdrop of pride, in a kind of “ha ha look what I received!” way. Unfortunately, MBB didn’t receive it with such joviality and rebelliousness. Why are some people so fucking square? We only live once. Life shouldn’t be about negativity and worry. It should be about adventure and excitement. MBB fell into the trap of believing that Sean & Co. could actually have a case against Learnology (I guess intuition isn’t a gift with which we are all blessed). This couldn’t have been further from the truth. There was no possible way that Sean could attach Learnology to any legal action they would take against me, nor was there any way they were going to take any action in the first place.

As you have read before, Sean’s rationale for harping on about their potential pursuit of Learnology profits was a bid to try to get us to ‘let them in’ to the company. No judge would buy into this bullshit if it ever went to court (which it wouldn’t). Later on in this chapter I will use the Jack & Jill Lollipop story to describe just why this case would have never been admitted into the wig and wing collar club.

A barrister wearing his wig. Imagine how fucking stupid you would feel wearing this

Regrettably, some of us fell for Sean’s bullshit more than others, namely MBB. On Thursday 9th December 2013, MBB wrote me an official email stating that he ‘elected to cease all involvement with Learnology Limited’ on account of ‘Learnology’s unnecessary risk of legal challenge’. I know what you’re thinking; why use the word ‘elected’? Why not just say ‘decided’, for fuck sake. In any case, regardless of his choice of words, what a gullible gob shite. In fact, he was so gullible that I no longer believe he is worthy of the title MBB (Mr Brain Box). I have therefore ‘elected’ to remove this esteemed title, and rename him the cunning, underhand, nasty, tosser (CUNT).

Why did Learnology collapse?

When CUNT ‘elected’ to withdraw from Learnology, he also ‘elected’ to withdraw the total amount of funds he had originally invested back in September. Bear in mind that 3 months had passed since he came on board, and we would have obviously used a portion of these investment funds to cover expenses thus far. But no no, this does not mean that he took back the remaining portion of his funds. For some reason he thought he could take back the full shebang. I often thank my lucky stars that he left when he did, because someone who carries on like this is not the type of person you want to work with on a long time basis. I just wish I hadn’t trusted him as much as I did, and I hadn’t let him be the only partner with access to online banking (who’s gullible now, says you).

Learnology was capitalised with a debt to equity ratio of 1:1, 50% bank debt (from BOI) and 50% investment funds (from CUNT). CUNT’s withdrawal of monies over and above what he was entitled, exposed us to the point that we were like Nigerian nationals in Antarctica, with no igloo or parka. His over withdrawal ate into our bank debt unnecessarily. He had fucked us (and the company) up no end. Luckily however, CUNT had signed a personal guarantee on the bank loan, making him joint and severally liable for that debt. Nevertheless, as we were now only capitalised by debt, no equity, we had to fold the company and wave goodbye to Learnology.

For anyone reading who had a child or relation in Learnology, I apologise. I apologise for the behaviour of CUNT (who robbed us), I apologise for the behaviour of Sean & Co. (who made the idle threat that led to us being robbed). Learnology looked like it was going places; we were the only low cost grind school in Ireland, meaning we had opened the doors to students for whom grinds had never before been an option. Finally, I apologise for my behaviour. I would love to sit hear and write that the whole situation was outside of my control, and that I was not at fault. The truth is I was at fault; I should have never been honest with CUNT about the ‘oops’ email, and I should have never taken on someone like him in the first place.

The Jack & Jill Lollipop Story

The reason why CUNT was wrong to assume that Sean would have taken us to court can easily be explained using my Jack & Jill Lollipop Story:

Jack and Jill before they decided they wanted to lick a lollipop

Cast (in order of appearance)

Jack = played by Paul

Jill = played by Sean & Co. (nominated for an Oscar)

Mary = played by CUNT

Mommy & Daddy = played by the High Court Judge

Props (again in order of appearance)

Yellow Lollipop = OnlineGrinds.ie

Red Lollipop = Learnology

One day, Jack and Jill are headed up the hill to fetch a pale of water. On the way to fetch the pale, Jack says to Jill “Hey Jill, will we go and get a lollipop?” Jill replies by saying “sure Jack, I would really like a lollipop right now”. Jack then advises that he has no money to buy said lollipop, so Jill agrees to buy the lollipop, subject to her being able to share it with Jack and benefit from the nutrition and nice taste it provides. Jack consents. They buy a yellow lollipop.

Having licked the top of the yellow lollipop, Jack says to Jill, “hmmmmmm, this lollipop doesn’t taste too good; it’s not really fulfilling our appetite, is it Jill?”. Jill doesn’t know any better, as she hasn’t been actively involved in the licking process.

Jack says to Jill, “let’s go and get a red lollipop instead, I believe they are much tastier and much more popular among kids”. Jill says she is “happy with this one, maybe if we keep licking it we will come to a tasty bit”. Jack says “no matter how much you lick, it will always taste the same”.

Jill is happy to stay with the yellow lollipop, and Jack gets a new red one. But Jack cannot possibly manage the new, big, red lollipop on his own. He needs help. So he asks Mary to help him.

Jack with his new red lollipop

When Jill sees how much Jack and Mary are enjoying the red lollipop, and how it has serious potential to fulfill their appetite, Jill wants to have some of it.

When Jill asks Jack and Mary if she could have some, Jack isn’t entirely against it, as he has always gotten along with Jill. However, Mary doesn’t want Jill to be part of the licking process.

Jill threatens to tell mommy and daddy and claims that both Jack AND Mary will get in trouble if they don’t let Jill in on the action. But if Jack and Mary let Jill share the red lollipop with them, Jill won’t say a word to mommy and daddy. But what will mommy and daddy think if Jill tells them but then Jack explains that Jill wouldn’t have said a word if she had been allowed in? Would this damage the entire credibility of Jill’s argument?

Would mommy and daddy tell Jill to stop acting like a spoiled child and ask her why she didn’t accept Jack’s offer in the first place? Whether Jack gets a slap on the wrist or not from mommy and daddy, how could they possibly find Mary to be deserving of a slap?

Jill with no red lollipop – the quintessential spoiled child

Despite the fact that mommy and daddy couldn’t touch Mary, she still gets scared shitless and spontaneously ‘elects’ to leave Jack to lick the lollipop alone. Such was the credibility of Jill’s threats (in her eyes). But when Mary leaves, the task of licking the lollipop is virtually impossible for Jack to do on his own, so he has to throw it away.

I know this lovely little story may seem a tad oversimplified, but the principle of the matter remains the same. There was no way Sean & Co. could go after Learnology, but as CUNT didn’t see this, we lost Learnology.

Thanks Sean & Co. Thanks CUNT. You guys are the best.

Quick Poll (it takes a nanosecond)

Please answer the following question. Complete anonymity is assured.

Results will be announced in tomorrow’s installment.

Next Chapter – Chapter 19: 3K Any Good To Ya and EGM – Abrakedabra and Paul Is Gone

Chapter 17: This Means War, Ignore The War

July 3, 2014July 7, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

This Means War

It was now mid December and I suspected that Sean & Co. were anxious to get into bed with Ashfield, have sexual intercourse (I would call it fornication actually; weren’t they married to me after all) and give birth to their illegitimate baby (launch their business) in January 2014. The knowledge of the Ashfield relationship, and the child they were trying to have out of wedlock, was something I was going to keep as a secret between me and I.

I didn’t send the ‘tell not ask’ email immediately. I decided that there was a lot more time for mischievous hand rubbing and a lot more sweat left in the guys. So, I held my ground, continued to ignore emails and began to mentally formulate the wording of this legendary email I was going to send.

At this point I realised that there were a number of questions I forgot to ask Vito. I think I spent so much time trying not to poo in my pants in his regal office, that I lost sight of these vital questions. In hindsight, there was one question I should have asked after he had given me the nuclear weapon that was his 6 wise words. If I could borrow Marty McFly’s car for a few days and go back in time, I would have followed his 6 words with the reply: “at what price?”.

Was I going to place a value on it or was I going to let them come up with a figure? This was a difficult decision for me. If I aimed too high, I might damage any possibility of a buyout, if I aimed too low, I would be limiting myself if they paid out immediately. So, I decided to leave it wide open.

In reply to an email from Sean saying he needed to make a decision on his next move ASAP, I wrote the ‘tell not ask’ email. I left it open in that I didn’t place a figure on it. Here is the email:

My tell not ask email

The reply I got marked the first time in two and a half years that I had ever seen any weakness or vulnerability in Sean. You could read in his words that my email had shaken him badly. At least force 7 on the Richter scale. His reply was short, aggressive and full of fire. Here it is:

Sean declares war

The thought of going to court excited me. It meant I was going to have to buy a new suit. But I had never really been to court before, so I didn’t know what kind of suit would suit a court appearance. As it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, I wasn’t going to buy a boring black, grey or charcoal suit. This was a special, once off, occasion and it therefore deserved a special, once off suit.

After a bit of research online, I decided I would buy a suit like this for the big day:

Yes, this suit was perfect. Hat and all. Gadaffi was my idle when it came to suit fashion. I was weak at the knees at some of his ensembles. I even considered wearing earphones upside down on the day of my court appearance, just to finish off the look.

But alas, I knew this was just another idle threat on Sean’s part and researching suits online was simply wishful thinking. You can’t blame me though, we all like to fantasise at times, no? When I woke up from my day dream, and the reality of never actually getting the opportunity to sport a getup like this in the High Court hit home, I realised that there was in fact a silver lining to the dark cloud that was reality; I still had another solicitor’s letter to look forward to!

I love a bit of drama. And apart from anything else, the letter would also provide the means to make another paper airplane for my dog to chase. Endless hours of fun…FOR FREE. I was in my element (as was the pooch).

So, a day or two later, the parts for my new paper airplane arrived in the letter box. Here it is:

Here again you can see that the letter was signed ‘Everyone Shites’ rather that the individual solicitor who had written it. Too right though. Could you imagine the strange looks you would get from your pharmacist if you presented a prescription that had been signed by a vet?

Ignore The War

I never had so much fun making a paper airplane in my life. Usually when I play with the dog, I like him to bring me back whatever I have thrown down the garden. In this case, I didn’t want it back. He could eat it, excrete it, dance on it, make a doggy hat out of it, break it up into thousands of pieces and use the pieces as doggy toothpicks over the years, use the letter to taunt the dog next door, and so on and so forth. As long as he was happy, I was happy.

As Sean & Co. were expecting their baby in January, they really needed me gone ASAP. Remember it was mid December, the height of silly season. The last thing they needed was me to fuck around. If I didn’t sign the option agreement, Ashfield would have no comfort in knowing that I “was legally committed to leaving OnlineGrinds.ie” and the deal may fall through. This is why Sean had Daniel O’Donnell send me the second letter. He thought that I would freeze in the head lights and sign the document without hesitation. How wrong was he. But then again, he didn’t know that I was aware of the impending baba.

Despite my serious urge to reply to Everyone Shites saying that the firm of solicitors I was nominating was Saul Goodman and Co., I resisted the urge and ignored the letter completely. I let the 3 days pass to see what would happen. The days soon became weeks and low and behold nothing ever happened. Surprise surprise.

But how long were they willing to wait for me to sign the option agreement before it was too late to launch in January? Would they give in and pay me just before it reached this point? I didn’t have an answer to this question, as no more oops emails were sent. But I was willing to wait and find out.

In any case, it looked like Sean & Co. had no intention whatsoever of taking me to court as (a) it would cost too much and (b) they were much more at fault than I, and being in court would expose their wrongdoings much more than mine (especially because I didn’t have any).

In many ways this is why I have no qualms about writing this blog. The lads are much more guilty than I (you will see why as we get towards the end). This is why I can pretty much push the boat out in terms of what I say, with no fear of legal retribution from their end. Bearing this in mind, allow me to say one thing:

BS, you are, have always been, and will always be, an absolute and utter Bollox.

Writing this blog is far more rewarding than any form of conventional therapy. I recommend it most highly. I only wish I would receive an SL though. I have wagers with my mates that I will receive at least 2, and most probably 63. Whatever I do, I cannot lose this bet.

So guys, can you please get your act together, take out the thumbs that are firmly lodged up your bottoms and send me an SL without delay? Yes I am talking to YOU Arthur’s Cock and YOU Everyone Shites. Please don’t delay now. Good boys. Love you lots.

Next Chapter – Chapter 18: Bye Bye Learnology and The Jack & Jill Lollipop Story

Chapter 16: OOPS and Buy Me Out Oh Baby Buy Me Out

July 2, 2014July 7, 2017 / PaulVStenson / Leave a comment

Safety Announcement

Before you embark on the journey that is Chapter 16, may I please draw your attention to some of the safety features on board this blog. To hear the safety announcement, click below. If you are in a public place and don’t want people looking at you wondering what the hell you are listening to, you can read the announcement instead. If you want to do both, you can do that too:

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. You are welcome aboard this Steno Airlines flight today from OnlineGrinds.ie to nothing. In advance of this instalment, can I please ask you to ensure that your seat belts are securely fastened for take-off, and that your seat backs and tray tables are in their fully upright and locked position. We may experience some turbulence in today’s chapter, so in order to ensure that you don’t fall off your chair, we recommend that you keep your seatbelt loosely fastened throughout the entire duration of this instalment.

In the highly likely event of your reading something which may make you want to curse out loud, there are two main hands located on your body, one to the left, and the other to your right. Immediately pull your left hand firmly toward your mouth to stop the flow of cursing. Make sure there is some room between each finger on your hand, and breathe normally. If you are travelling with an infant or small child today, secure your hand first then assist your child with your other hand.

Without further ado Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to wish you a very pleasant read, and we hope to see you again on Steno Airlines at some point in the hopefully not too distant future.

Many thanks,

Goodbye.

OOPS

Giving no more of a shit than I did before, and pretty much for the craic, I asked Sean if he could send me over the option agreement. I wanted to have a quick goo at it and pass it on to my solicitor to get her take on the situation. Efficiently as ever, Sean emailed me over the agreement. He said he would email me the next day with instructions as to where to sign and how to return the document (if I could simply scan and email, or did I have to physically go in to the offices of Everyone Shites where there would be a grand signing ceremony, followed by a champagne and strawberry reception). I told him I would standby and await further instructions.

When I downloaded the document, I was expecting a one pager; the fucking thing was about ten pages long. The document itself made about as much sense to me as the rationale for creating the agreement in the first place. In fact, if the agreement had been written in (shorthand) Mandarin, I would have probably understood it as much (if not more). So, I emailed the document to my unintelligible drivel interpreter (lawyer) and made paper airplanes out of the hard copy I had printed. I had as much intention of signing the document as I had inviting BS over to mine for tea and cakes.

The next day I got my email of instructions from Sean, which he had just been sent from his lawyer. But here’s where it gets incredibly juicy!

Sean was obviously busy and rushed that day. He didn’t send me a personalised email (which he would normally do), he simply forwarded the email his solicitor had sent him outlining the instructions for me. But what Sean didn’t realise was that he wasn’t only forwarding me one email; he was forwarding me a trail of emails regarding the option agreement and the rationale for drawing up such a malevolent and meaningless document in the first place.

Sean’s quick message telling me to look at what his solicitor had written below. Sean was obviously busy that day and was unaware of what was further down the page.

I received the email early in the morning, it was before I had my shower and my Nespresso, and my eyes were still half asleep. The ‘hit’ I got from one piece of information in the email trail was as strong as knocking back ten fortissio lungos (the strongest nespresso available), in one go. Take a look at the following extract from one of the many emails in the trail that Sean sent to his solicitor:

Part of an email from Sean to his solicitor (that I wasn’t supposed to see)

Did one word from the above sentence stand out for you the way it did for me? In fact, to say this word simply stood out and smacked me in the face would be the understatement of the millennium. The word jumped out and head-butted me smack bang in the centre of the nose, with extreme force and ferocity.

It all made sense to me now; this is exactly why they wanted me to sign the agreement. They had started talks long ago (note that Sean says they were in final talks) with Ashfield College, a significant player in the grind school world, and Ashfield needed to know that I was out of the equation before a deal was done. Having me sign the three month agreement would give them this comfort, and if the deal didn’t pan out, the lads could still sue me (and Learnology). I was REALLY going to sign it now.

In all seriousness however, if Sean & Co. were now in final talks with Ashfield, this meant that talks had probably begun many months prior. It was now early November and they still hadn’t accepted my resignation on the 19^th October as ‘it didn’t suit them’. So, for all intents and purposes, I was still a director (and obviously a third owner) of the company. Indeed, even if they had accepted my resignation, they had probably been in talks with Ashfield long before I had tendered it.

I had no knowledge of these dealings with Ashfield, let alone being included in them (which was my right as a director and third owner). It’s quite possible that I would have never found out, if Sean hadn’t sent the ‘oops’ email.

Around the time of the option agreement controversy, Sean mentioned that they were in ‘casual talks with a guy who was also called Paul’ about replacing me. He never mentioned anything about being in talks with one of the largest grind schools in Ireland.

This news brought the expression ‘double edged sword’ to a whole new level. If what I had done with Learnology was a sin, the sin they were committing was most certainly of the mortal variety. I did nothing illegal whatsoever, but what the lads were doing was actually against the law. They were excluding me, a third owner, but far more importantly, a director, from their dealings. Maybe the brownies got a hold of both BS and Sean and gave them both sufficient doses of amnesia potion to forget that it was BS who had resigned, not I.

We all know that the letter they sent me amounted to nothing more than a ‘shot across the bow’. These guys didn’t deserve something as nice as that, they deserved a torpedo up their holes. Not one that would simply enter the anal orifice and then make a quick exit through the skull, one that would enter the anus and explode midway through the body. Around the solar plexus region would be perfect, thanks.

If I had a Saul Goodman type of lawyer, I am sure he could take the lads to the cleaners (if he could manage to locate BS, imagine the GPS he would need for that). No doubt he could argue that there are strong grounds for minority oppression here? And that I would have a strong case against the lads under Section 205 of the Companies Act, or something like that? Saul, if you are reading, gimme a call please. Good man, Goodman.

I must admit however, that when I heard about this deal, I did hear the following sound playing somewhere in a teeny weeny area of the deepest recesses of my dark mind. Click play below to hear what I heard:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj_OmtqVLxY

Buy Me Out Oh Baby Buy Me Out

Having no intention of signing the option agreement (I didn’t anyway) and now equipped with this new piece of information in my back pocket, I decided I would make the lads sweat a bit, while I concocted a plan for my next move. One thing was for sure, they needed me gone.

The longer I waited, the more desperate they got. I started getting bombarded with emails asking when I was going to return the signed agreement, which I duly ignored. In fact, I went to ground completely.

During this period of radio silence, I hadn’t a bull’s notion what to do. So I decided I needed advice. But not legal advice. Business advice. I needed some sound business advice from a savvy businessman (or woman). But not a businessman I went to college with, I needed advice from someone who had been around the block. An aul fella.

On recommendation from a close friend, I met with a wealthy businessman in south Dublin. This man was old school. He had a very grand, old fashioned office with no computer on his large mahogany desk. He wore a rope stripe (not a pin stripe – there is a difference) suit, with a bright red hanky hanging superfluously from his left breast pocket. His hair was slicked back and greasy.

charcoal-grey-pinstripe-business-suit-39938-1-1

Pin Stripe – Understated, Modest, Inconspicuous

Luca-Rubinacci-pin-stripe-suit-red-tie-wrist-style

Rope Stripe – Loud, In Your Face, Obnoxious

He exuded an aura of ‘you don’t want to mess with me or I’ll sue your fucking ass before you can blink’ tinged with an air of ‘I am so filthy rich I could buy your house with my loose change’. This man meant business. There was no time for fucking about or messing. He wasn’t the kind of guy who did pleasantries so I didn’t dare mention the fine weather. I felt compelled to listen to this man in a similar way to how Fredo Corleone would have listened to Vito. For the purpose of this blog, I am going to refer to this man as Vito.

114385__marlon-brando-godfather-godfather-don-vito-corleone-style-classic-movie_p

Vito Corleone AKA The Man I Met

Vito didn’t talk much. He simply asked me to tell my story. I explained it as best I could, although there was a slight tremor in my voice while doing so. I wasn’t used to dealing with men like this. When I got to the end of the story, Vito replied with six words, and pretty much nothing else. These words were as follows:

(1) Tell (2) Them (3) To (4) Buy (5) You (6) Out.

Note the word ‘tell’. I don’t think the word ‘ask’ actually featured in this man’s vocabulary.

After a deep gulp, a face that would have suggested ‘is that it?’, followed by a nervous smile, I shuffled backwards towards the mahogany office door, never once turning my back on the man (as if he were the queen). He looked at me with an impassive, blank face until I reached the door, without blinking an eyelid or moving a muscle in his leather chair. He then gave me a brief, but confidence-inspiring nod, to which I replied with the words “thanks a million, I really appreciate this”. I then mustered up the strength to open the door (it felt like it was made of lead) with one hand, made a half-hearted attempt at a nervous wave goodbye with the other, and exited the room.

Equipped with these 6 words of supreme wisdom, I left Vito’s stately office premises and headed back to my car. I was going to TELL my colleagues in OnlineGrinds.ie, not ask them, to buy me out. I didn’t have a spring in my step, I had a fucking trampoline.

Next Chapter – Chapter 17: This Means War, Ignore The War

Paulie's Bog

"A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men"

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Why I Gave Up Drink – Part Two

An Evening With Schnapps

My College Days

My Twenties

‘Oh, Mandy’

Zell Am See

Bongo Man

Why I Gave Up Drink – Part One

Hi my name’s Paul and I’m an Alcoholic.

My Many Stages of Drunkenness

The Morning After the Night Before

Chapter 22: Lessons Learnt, Why The Fuck Did I Write This Blog and What’s Next For Paulie Waulie

Lessons Learnt

Team

Power

Don’t Take Bullshit

Consider What You Say To Others

Dwarves

Cash

Office

Law and Lawyers

Why The Fuck Did I Write This Blog?

What’s Next For Paulie Waulie

That’s All Folks

Chapter 21: From €10 per grind to €75 per grind and Bye Bye OnlineGrinds.ie

From €10 per grind to €75 per grind

Bye Bye OnlineGrinds.ie

Breaking News

Chapter 20: Give Me The Assets or You’re Fucking Dead and The Hackers Attack

Give Me The Assets or You’re Fucking Dead

The Hackers Attack

Chapter 19: 3K Any Good To Ya and EGM – Abrakedabra and Paul Is Gone

Chapter 18: Bye Bye Learnology and The Jack & Jill Lollipop Story

Chapter 17: This Means War, Ignore The War

Chapter 16: OOPS and Buy Me Out Oh Baby Buy Me Out

An Evening With Schnapps

My College Days

My Twenties

‘Oh, Mandy’

Zell Am See

Bongo Man

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Hi my name’s Paul and I’m an Alcoholic.

My Many Stages of Drunkenness

The Morning After the Night Before

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Lessons Learnt

Team

Power

Don’t Take Bullshit

Consider What You Say To Others

Dwarves

Cash

Office

Law and Lawyers

Why The Fuck Did I Write This Blog?

What’s Next For Paulie Waulie

That’s All Folks

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From €10 per grind to €75 per grind

Bye Bye OnlineGrinds.ie

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Give Me The Assets or You’re Fucking Dead

The Hackers Attack

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