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Entrepreneurship is really hard to spell

I hate the term entrepreneur. Honestly, I don’t even like saying it. I kinda cringe when I hear other people say it too.

To me, it’s got the trifecta of shitty-wordness.

  1. I don’t know what it means.
  2. I don’t know how to spell it.
  3. It’s reeeally overused.

Now, most entreprenoors have some sort of origin story like X-men. If you listen to enough podcasts you know that a typical entrepreneur’s story starts in the distant past.

Before they even knew what entrepreneuring was.

They created some minimumly viable product at age, like, 4 and hustled the shit out of it until all their friends were like “damn this guy knows how to hustle.”

According to them they were just born this way. They couldn’t control it. It was in their DNA. All they could do was hope to harness it. Harness the entrepre-energy inside of them. Inside of all of us.

For me, iiiiit didn’t work that way.

Even in elementary school I wasn’t an elementrepreneur. I mostly played with marbles and balls and stuff like that.

But wait… now that I’m writing this, it’s starting to come back to me. Maybe I do have an origin story after all.

High School, 2004. Yea, that’s when this little entree got his first round of apps — with extra mozzarella sticks — my first big entrepr-xperience.

I grew up in one of the poorest cities in California that is pretty much only known for 2 things: the heat and agriculture — but mostly not known for anything.

Like any savvy entrepre-nard-dog I combined heat and agriculture for my first venture… I saw an under-valued opportunity where everyone else just saw heat waves and dirt fields.

I got wind that it was completely legal to join FFA, raise an animal for a few months, and sell it at the fair for an outrageous profit (think very, very, high 3-figures), my entrepreneur lifestyle business was born.

*Queue the music montage*

After months of putting in work and grind: getting to school a little early, leaving a little late, walking my lamb (I still don’t get they made us walk our lambs), it was time.

Money time. The fair. The major liquidity event I had been waiting for. The time I had spent incubating this little baby was about to pay off big time.

See the fair was where hungry angel-investing farmers came to bid on our lamb startups — and eat deep fried twinkies — all for a cut of equity in our lambs (literally).

In other words it was time to go out and raise some VC.

My first round of funding went great. I ended up making a cool 3-figure profit on the venture. It was effortless for a natural entrpreneur like me.

My lifestyle totally changed overnight. Life in the fast lane was insane. I bought a lamb-bourgini (technically just my grandparents ford thunderbird bought with lamb money).

Just a few short months later though tragedy struck. My lambo went up in flames as I was getting ready for school one fateful day. I was devastated.

Wow.

It was my first true test as an entrepreneur.

But then, like Ross Gellar going up a flight of stairs, I pivoted.

Pigs.

The next year I sold pigs at the FFA fair and made an even greater profit. My Series-B. B as in bacon.

As you can see what all of this means is you don’t have to take the traditional route to the entrepreneur lifestyle.

Just entreprenararrating your life story really hard is enough.