Moments ago, I was sitting back in my giant furry brown Barcalounger, patting myself on the ass over my good work in the area of acquisitions.   For a person who earns diddly, and is, by cruel tarring of demographics, one fucking small operator, I have a very nice collection of imported guitars, bought off the internet, good quality at the lowest price anywhere.  The stainless steel jewelry I have been stocking up on is probably worth more than I've been paying for, and if so, a dainty free market economic model could be cited, like a cub scout doing some old bat 'a solid' like helping her cross the street.   Electronic periferals such as digital cameras and computer accessories, all dirt cheap from venerable ebay.com made my facebook posts a luke warm roaring success.

It is possible to create a small business by collecting goods, and selling them to people.  To people who dig what you are up to.   People who like the cut of your jib.  And who share a wholesome interest in the same things you do.  Baring perverts who are into dildos and other filthy sex appliances.  I don't talk to those kinds of people.

Galloping like Randolf Scott to point, now that Donald is in, it's opportune to discuss free market methods.  All sorts.  In the free thinking mode.  I'm not protesting anything. I'm encouraging productivity.  Our best hopes are all material in nature.