Askari Rey


October 2014

How to Make Kale Juice Taste Great

Swamp Sauce

Good news: Kale is a power plant supplying an array of health benefits.

Working kale into your diet may produce the following benefits:

  • Strengthening healthy cells of the body while blocking the growth of cancer cells
  • Increasing bone density
  • Detoxifying the body
  • Improving blood circulation
  • Restoring skin (clearer, firmer, warmer color)
  • Sharpened vision

Bad news: Kale tastes like skunk ass.

Maybe you want to take a trip on the Kale Caboose, but you’re intimidated by bitterness.

You’re not alone. I don’t believe in eating for taste all of the time. That’s how people end up browsing the frozen food aisle via Rascal Scooter.

Although, if you’re going to drink juice on a regular basis a healthy standard of living dictates that it does not taste like liquid mistletoe.


Allow me to introduce Swamp Sauce:


1 Bunch of Kale

3 Kiwis

1-2 Apples (Fuji)

½ -1in Ginger

Handful of Green Grapes

Apples, grapes and kiwis turn what was once a harsh vegetable drink into a cocktail of pleasant sweetness.

A modest block of ginger is enough to leave an appetizing sensation of spice waiting for your tongue as it roams the mouth collecting aftertaste.

Kiwis deliver a thick, shake-like texture along with great flavor.

The abundant juice of green apple adds volume.

Deep, vivid green kale juice will have you thinking this healthy beverage glows in the dark. Put kiwi pulp on top of that and it will look like your glass is filled with radioactive Swamp Sauce (hence the name).



Askari Rey


You Are Your Environment

Working as a door-to-door salesman in Chicago has taught me a simple, but very important, fact about human nature:

Nice neighbor hoods make you feel nice.

Bad neighbor hoods make you feel bad.

An attractive environment is like a massage for the brain.

An ugly environment is like getting your brain punched with brass knuckles every four minutes.

Positive people make your soul swell with energy.

Negative people steal your precious life force.

A typical day in a Midwestern ghetto:

1:00 PM –

Vacant houses everywhere. Occupied homes look vacant. Peeling paint. Rotting porches. Broken windows.

1:30 PM –

A dirty man lights a blunt on the dirty sidewalk.

1:45 PM –

A huge woman is punching a dog in the face.

2:00 PM –

A pit bull locks eyes with me through the bay windows of the living room as I approach the house from the drive way. It rams it’s face into the glass. Territorial aggression. This little monster face-rams the glass again and again and again. Blood pours. The owner screams.

I decide to leave.

3:00 PM –

A high school graduation party is underway. Music and barbecue and dancing. A rusted Caprice drives up. A handgun appears from the passenger’s window, aimed at the grey sky. Four shots. Dancing turns to fleeing. Everyone is screaming and the car pulls away.

I decide to leave.

4:00 PM –

A gigantic man answers the door. His eyes light up when he sees it is me.

He’s wearing a woman’s shower cap. Make up. A woman’s bathrobe. Nail polish and woman’s slippers.

“Oh, hey baby. Why don’t you come on inside,”

I decide to leave.

5:00 PM –

I’m inside the living room of the only nuclear family on the block.

The “mother” approaches me with two 100 dollar bills in her hand.

“She a virgin and don’t nobody want her. Fuck dis bitch and da money’s yours.” she says, pointing to her teenage, albino daughter who is sitting on the couch.

“You know the best part? She a V (V being virgin). No one will fuck her cause’ a how she is (albino).”

She’s serious.

I look to the father in disbelief and see that he is chuckling like the whole thing is a good-natured joke.

I decide to leave.

I would rather live in an upper class community, ripe with breathtaking architecture and circular driveways lined with luxury cars, where everyone hates me, than be the king of a low income community where every citizen worshiped me as their lord and savior.

Askari Rey

How to Be a Killer Door-to-Door Salesman

“Hey Aakari, do I have what it takes to be a killer door-to-door salesman?”

That’s a fine question.

And I’m going to answer it with some fine questions of my own:

How do you handle rejection, disrespect, angry housewives, nosy police officers and incorrigible nut cases? Does it all roll off your back like a cool April rain?

Do you enjoy conflict? Competition?

Do you appreciate a male-dominated work environment?

Could your social/persuasive skills use a tune up?

Would you like to learn more about human nature in two weeks than you ever could during four years of sociology courses at an ivy league university?

Do you have 2-3 years walking experience?


I believe there is a killer salesman inside of you.

Hit the streets, young man.

And take these five tips with you.

These five tips could mean the difference between success and distress.

1. Play the Numbers

Knock every door within driving distance of your knuckles.

Contacts = sales. Sales = $ in your pocket.


My coworkers knock 60 doors a day.

I knock 120.

Do likewise. You’re a rookie and you’re skill is low, so your will must be sky-high.

My sales manager called me “Burner” because I burned through routes at twice the speed of my coworkers. “Burner” quickly turned into “Rookie of the Year”. “Rookie of the Year” become “The Future”, as in the future of the company.

Coworkers tease me for trying so hard.

“Dude, I only knock 30 doors a day, tops, and I still get my sales. If I knocked as many doors as you I’d get 20 sales a week.”

Big whoop.

Guys can talk shit until they’re blue in the face (and they will). It doesn’t bother my one iota.

I got a raise and a promotion in less than ten months. They got an Easter basket full of goose eggs.

Let’s review: #s = sales = $ =  success = confidence = more sales = more $ and on and on.

Knock your sack off. It’s not optional. It is too beneficial to be optional.

2. Smile

Go to your bathroom mirror.

I want you to practice your “I come in peace but I am not to be fucked with.” smile.

It requires full facial participation. Fell the skin of your forehead stretch. Fell your eye muscles tighten. (It’s called smiling with your eyes). Feel your cheeks drift toward your ears. Let your lips curl into a semi-mischievous smirk.

The “I come in peace but I am not to be fucked with” smile could also be named the “I know something you don’t know smile”.

It is far superior to the “I come in peace so please do not yell at me” smile which is defined by a timid/wooden grin and limp muscles in the northern hemisphere of the head.

Still, the “I come in peace so please do not yell at me smile” is better than no smile.

I train guys.

All day I tell them, “You have to start smiling. You’re knocking on their door, out of the blue, during dinner and you want their money. The least you can do is smile.”

When the customer swings open that front door, the first thing they should see is your pearly whites.

That smile could mean the difference between “Where do I sign?” and “Get the hell off my property.”

No one wants to buy a damn thing from Cement Face McGillicuddy.

3. Stop Smiling So Much

Give your lips a rest after you melt the customers initial annoyance with a warm smile.

You need to come across friendly. You also need to come across as someone who is to be taken seriously. Beta males smile at every meaningless syllable that leaves the mouth of women and alpha males.

It’s weak. Your reptilian brain is subconsciously communicating to the world that you’re a good little boy, and you don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.

Instead, keep 1/4 of a smirk on your face during the majority of the conversation.

Just a smidgen of a grin.

Remember, you’re happy, not needy.

4. Be a Copy Cat

Steal pitches and lines from the best guys in your office.

There is no shame in doing this.

A big black guy named Derrick trained me. I noticed that he always smirked and said, “Hey, young lady.” Whenever a woman over the age of forty answered the door.

That line has been gold for me.

The “I want to buy your product but I have to speak with my wife/husband/daughter/who-the-hell-ever” objection might be the most common and difficult roadblock that salesman run into when trying to close a customer.

Tiffany, a former coworker, had an interesting way of clearing this hurdle.

“Really? That’s so surprising to me. I thought you were the king/queen running things around here.”

I use that line like it’s going out of style. It works.

You’re going to come up with your own lines through improvisation. You’re going to discover your own style through experience and trial and error.

Mix your original material with the little nuggets you learn from veterans along the way.


Watch great sales movies like The Wolf of Wall Street and Boiler Room for more ideas.

5. Don’t Care (but really do)

If you can master this last tip everything else will fall into place.

Unfortunately, putting this piece of advice into easy-to-understand words is difficult.

It’s abstract. Counter-intuitive. Ugly.

Fact: People hate to help other people.

There is nothing on this planet that could ever inspire more contempt and disgust in so many people (especially women) than a needy man.

The best way to get the sale is to not want it.

How do you think a salesman responds to rejection after he closed the last 10 customers he spoke to?

He cracks jokes. Flirts. Teases and brags.

He makes random comments about the customers car or pet or hair.

That’s how I want you to interact with every customer.

I want you to respond in such a way that the customer understands that buying the product will not help you.

A credit card number will not improve your life.

Nor will it excite you.

You are not here to make money. You are here because this is where you want to be.

You are here because it doesn’t matter where you are because everywhere you are is awesome because you are awesome.

Now, hit the streets you freak,

Askari Rey.

College is Not Reality

Universities are fantasy lands.

College is not the real world.

Nor does it prepare you for it.

Professors yell lethal nonsense and “Epic Brazilian Poetry 101” is not education.

It’s procrastination.

Stop procrastinating and step into the bright light of reality.

The light is harsh.

It burns the skin.

For example, your roommate dipped.

And he “forgot” to tell you that he hasn’t paid rent in six months.


Your landlord is at the door.

Clenched fists. Teeth grinding away.

Your landlord’s a big guy.

“Pay up or get out.”

This is all happening so fast. What to do?

And tell me . . .

. . . how is that “19th Century American Literature” class benefiting you now?

Remember that class?

Mark Twain’s real name was Samuel Langhorne Clemens.

Wow. What a fascinating nugget of literary trivia.

Of course, you could have learned it online or at the library for free.

And of course, the information would not have been tainted by the fussy gullet of a self-loathing, limp-wristed, self-described feminist.

Remember him?

The guy who was regularly bullied by his wife and female coworkers and demanded to be called “Doctor”.

You know, the guy who told you that rich people are evil while simultaneously demanding you give him a bunch of money so he could tell you that white-male privilege killed the dinosaurs.

He made you well-rounded, that guy.

Step into the light.

Start working. Get promoted. Argue with your boss. Get fired. Find another gig.

Start a side hustle and then start another one.

Get your heart broken and break one back.



Tell your landlord to eat dick.

“Sir, put your hands behind your head and step away from the fantasy land.”

Step into the light.

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