Let’s see, where do I start?
I made $2.7 million online last year. Blogging.
I live in a mansion. It has an actual movie theater. I can control it all on my phone. Tap one button and the projector powers on, curtain opens, lights dim, and Apple TV pops up in ultra-high-definition on the one hundred and fifty inch screen:
What else? Basketball court. Putting green. Pool. Hot tub. So many square feet, it’s annoying. There are rooms I haven’t been in in months. Even went full-douche and got myself an exotic. Only, unlike your favorite guru, everything’s paid off. Zero debt. Got millions in my retirement account, compounding. And every month, like clockwork, another six figures rolls in. All this before my first gray hair. (Although, I’ve got several now.)
But the best part is how I do it. No social media. No product. No service. No customers. No clients. No emails. No phone calls. No office building. No employees. One part-time independent contractor. No ads. Hardly any expenses. Lean, mean, simple, dizzyingly profitable. I keep my life private. My friends have no idea how much money I make. Yes, they can tell by the toys—I do well. But you could probably live my life on like three-, maybe four hundred Gs a year. That’s what most of my much older neighbors earn. (Almost all of them are doctors. One’s a retired pro baseball player.)
But yeah. You can do this without being internet famous. You can be a total introvert. You don’t need to whore out your entire life on Instagram, believe it or not. Your blog is all that matters. If it does its job, you’ll make money. Period. How much privacy you want to give up, is up to you.
The number one thing to me is freedom. I want to be left alone. I don’t wanna answer to anyone. Ever. I wanna wake up, drink coffee, type some words, hit publish, close my laptop, get the f*ck off the internet, and go enjoy my day. Get a workout in. Read by the pool. Go for a drive in my six hundred and something horsepower whipski and listen to a little hip hop. Spend time with the people I love. Try to be in the moment. You can’t do that if you’re constantly getting hit up.
Question is, how do you make millions as essentially a one-person show, without beeps, buzzes, dings, and dummies hijacking your time and energy? Well, you’re looking at it. And you being here is proof that it’s possible. You came to me, right? All I did was write some stuff. Probably months ago. Chances are, I’m not even online right now. Yet if you view an ad, or click on one, or buy something from one of my affiliate links, I’ll make money. Either way, my job is already done. I don’t have to go back and forth with you eleventy-five times via email and then hop on a call to close you and then support you for the next six months to get paid, do I? So in a nutshell, that’s how. By blogging. Smart.
And I can do it from anywhere in the world. In the last two months, alone, I’ve “worked” while looking out at the snow-capped mountains in Breckenridge, Colorado:
From a luxury resort in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico:
As well as a high-rise hotel suite in Waikiki, Honolulu, Hawaii:
And I’m headed back to Cabo tomorrow. Please. Pinch me. I’ve been living like this for years, and it still doesn’t seem real. And I did this with no advantages. I don’t come from money. I was broke when I started. Actually, about a hundred and twenty grand in debt. Most of it was student loans. Every course, every tool, every piece of software I purchased early on was financed by Uncle Visa. No one supported me. You’re wasting your time, they said. Give it up. Just work overtime if you want more money.
I had no connections. No millionaire mentor holding my hand. I chased shiny objects. Tried it all. Failed. Constantly thought about quitting. It was probably a good two years before I made my first commission. Four bucks. I’ll never forget it. Reviewed some stupid product on one of the many blogs I had launched. But damn, that feeling? There was nothing like it. I was hooked. Still didn’t think I’d ever make big big money. I remember sayin’, “Man, if I can just make five K a month, I could quit my day job and do this full-time.”
That’s it. That’s all I ever wanted. Five grand a month. That was the dream. Just enough to not have a boss, a schedule, an alarm clock, a commute, that anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach come Sunday night. Making millions? Pfft. Never even crossed my mind. That part was an accident. A welcome side effect of doing this for so long, I suppose.
And that should excite you. I’m just your average dude who was dumb enough to stick with it. I’m no entrepreneur. Never had a lemonade stand growing up. Or a candy hustle at school. I’ve literally never sold anything in my life. Ask someone for money? Ha! I’d rather lick the bathroom floor at Taco Bell.
And no, I’m not technical. I’ve picked up some things over the years, sure. But take this basic-b*tch-of-a-blog, for example. Like, I don’t even have a custom logo. C’mon. I just clicked some buttons and started typing. Anyone can.
Hate writing? So did I, for the first, oh I dunno, twenty-two years or so of my life. It meant staring at a blank Word document at nine o’clock at night with a ten page paper due at eight the next morning; and that sh*t was f*cking awful. But blogging’s a whole different animal. For one, you’re only writing about sh*t you love. So it doesn’t feel like work. Two, there’s no rules. You’re not getting graded on grammar. Matter fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret. This only took me like seven years to figure out. With blogging, the more conversational you make it, the better off you’ll be. Seriously. Here’s a million dollar tip: type it how you’d say it to a buddy over a beer. There you go. That’s my special sauce. The reason you’ve stayed with me—some twat waffle on a rusty, dented up blog—for one thousand and fifty nine words so far.
Here’s another thing. A lot of the writing is already done, if you want it to be. You can just report on what’s out there. Take a look at some of my posts here on Millyuns. Like half of ’em are quotes from millionaires. Hieee, those are all copy-paste. Then you got net worths. With those, I’m just rewriting what’s on Wikipedia or whatever. You can summarize videos and podcasts, talk about what someone posted on social media, give your opinion on a news story. Hell, who’s to say your blog has to be long-form text? You could just upload memes or share viral videos. Case in point: WorldStar. That blog is worth millions and millions and millions of dollars and those guys don’t write sh*t. They just gather up shocking content from around the web.
Of course, you could also hire other writers and just kind of quarterback the whole thing. That’s an option too. But, bottom line, don’t trick yourself into thinking you’re not qualified to blog. If you can talk, congrats, you can write/type. And if you’re anything like me, you might just fall in love with it. Especially when it starts adding zeroes to your bank account.
Are you feeling this so far? Want me to show you how to create your own blog, step-by-step? So you can make some of that nobody-bother-me money as well? Then mosey on over to the next page: