CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP
“OK”, I think to myself, “We’re traveling at 120 knots, due wet, i.e., offshore, in a vintage BELL 412 SP/EP. Yep. Oh now look: 121 knots.”
So far, so good.
“No compass. Radiotelephone was non-responsive. VHF, HF, and UHF radios are all kaput.” I note, “We’re tailgating behind another newer crew transport helicopter because we’re carrying specialty bespoke hyper-magnetic logging and retrieval tools. Of course, no chopper’s that shielded against magnetic flux of that magnitude.”
I spy a blood-red, rapidly flashing warning light blinking merrily “1-2 AHRS FAIL”. This warning light’s blinking, meaning all electronic helicopter heading information and guidance was completely lost.
But, we expected that, right?
Now, I’m certified to fly rotary wing aircraft as I have over 1,500 hours of stick and rudder time, and a US/Russian license. But there’s the rub, we’re not in the US. Oddly enough, I can fly choppers in Mother Russia. It might be time to let my employers know this fact. With my dual license, I’d just have to send the properly-acknowledged documents to the proper ministry.
That fact alone would give my sponsors the jibblies if I only would let on…
We’re currently thrashing the hot and humid summer air into submission about 300 meters above the Persian Gulf just offshore of a very small GCC Arabic peninsular country known as Qutur, headed for their Norse Field. It is the world’s largest non-associated gas field (Reinick & Blandings, 1997), meaning its reservoirs contain only natural gas and no oil, but they do contain condensate.
Why? Because I’m the goddamned Chief Geologist out here, and the cement-headed drillers twisted off the BHA, or bottom hole assembly, at 27,459 feet measured along hole; as the well was a long-reach lateral. It wasn’t horizontal nor vertical, but approximately 45⁰ along the trajectory when the driller fell asleep, was out getting a blowjob or doing something other than watching the goddamn Martin-Decker; the big gauge that indicates the weight on the bit at the bottom of the hole.
The torque built, the BHA stopped spinning, the mud system clabbered up, the bit and mud motor along with the directional gear seized up and snapped right the fuck off the drill string.
Now I have a ‘fish’ at the bottom of an over 5-mile deep hole and I can’t latch on, in, or over the damned thing. And the fuck if I’m spending the money in sidetracking around the fucking fish. Bottom hole temperatures here are reaching ‘HELL’, or Hostile Environment Logging Level and are HPHT, High Pressure, High Temperature, intensities of over 175⁰ C and pressures in excess of 25K psig bottom hole in the Kruff Formation of Permocarboniferous age.
Plus there’s H2S, CO2, and nasty ol’ nitrogen. N2 forms noxious and toxic compounds with down-hole gasses and oils, and loads of high-API gravity (60⁺⁾ hot, high-pressure condensate.
I’d rather spend some time with a tricked out, high-powered, ‘rip your fillings out if you’re Slavic’ high intensity, ubermegagauss fishing magnet and go in with a ream and junk basket to try and drill it up. Rather than have to drop a cement plug, set a whipstock, back off the hole, come up a few thousand feet, and start a new trajectory over the fish.
Another fun fact of which I was somehow denied knowledge was that local, intense thunderstorms were predicted for this part of the Persian Gulf today.
So, I’m with my pilot de jure, Dasharath Phuyal, late of the Royal Nepalese Air Force, Pro Station, and Tire Salon.
“Dash”, I ask, “We’re you excepting any weather today?”
“Umm,” he replies, querulously, “No Doctor. We checked the weather radar and it was clear.”
“What weather radar?” I inquired. Qutur doesn’t have any of their own yet, particularly those of the Doppler^® variety.
“The one from Dubai”, he says.
“And when was this?”, I asked.
“Oh, late last night”, he smiles back at me.
”Just watch that chopper in front of us”, I grumble, “Last night? You do know things tend to change a bit quickly out here…”
I never got to finish that sentence as I was rudely interrupted by a huge clap of thunder.
The sturdy, but timeworn, airframe of the Bell helicopter juddered, shimmingly and shakily.
“Ooh-whee!”, Dash whoops, “That was a close one.”
I reminded Dash that I was much closer and he should pay more attention to the job at hand rather than whooping up our impromptu roller coaster ride.
Luckily, the water here in the Gulf isn’t that deep, is bath-tub warm, and while it is home to some nasty, toothy critters, it’s not like being dumped in the South Atlantic around Cape Town in August.
Still, going for a swim after escaping a drowning helicopter just wasn’t on my list of fun things to do today; and I wanted to keep it that way. I mean, we do have to get our THUET, or Tropical Helicopter Underwater Escape Training, certificate. It’s an annual good time. I’ve been through it over 20 times, but novices and tyros really get grumpley and pukey once the mock-up of the chopper spins upside down and ker-splashes into the cold pool water.
I just sit in my seat, slowly undo my restraints and watch to see if anyone is in real trouble. Sure, they have rescue divers all around, but sometimes they are distracted by a full-load of novice characters losing their collective shit and lunch. I like to help out when I can. I’m no savage.
We also have to obtain T-BOSIET (Tropical Basic Offshore Safety Induction & Emergency Training), Basic Hydrogen Sulfide (H2S), T-FOET (Tropical Further Offshore Emergency Training), Compressed Air Emergency Breathing System (CA-EBS) and Travel Safely by Boat (TSbB) certifications. They just don’t let any breed of dummy out on an active offshore platform. You have to be a dummy that can stay awake through hours and hours of boring droning instructors.
I am one of the very few that also hold an AHUET, or Arctic Helicopter Underwater Escape Training, certificate. That’s a very cool time as well.
Anyways, we’re being slammed around like the last squash ball in the tin. It’s not raining yet, but there’s thunder, lightning, waves, and teeth-rattling thunderous repercussions of storm shock waves rebounding off the warm, Gulf waters.
It’s weird, but in the north, you get some severe summer and fall thunderstorms. All you need to watch out for is lightning, downward, and lateral thunder-shock waves, and rain. But out here, you get all that and the added bonus of thunder-induced shock waves rebounding off the warm waters of the Gulf, upward. It can drop your craft into the water just as certain as an angry downdraft can.
“So, Dash.”, I say, “We’re going to try and avoid any of that today, right?”
Dash ignores me as it’s raining now like a cow peeing on a flat rock and the wipers aren’t doing such a good job keeping up with clearness. Considering we’re probably 50 or so feet behind another helicopter, our safety guide, that margin for safety could go away almost instantaneously.
He’s sweating like a blind lesbian in a fish market, striving to keep the tail rotor of the helo in front of us just out of our reach and just within visible range. I decide I’ll read him the riot act later, once we are safely landed on the platform.
This goes on for a few minutes more when suddenly, the rig pops into view and the sun breaks through the roiling, cloudy deck.
But first, there are some protocols that must be satisfied:
These procedures will be based on the following requirements, or equivalent, which define when an approach is considered stabilized:
a. The aircraft is on the correct flight path and the correct navigational data has been confirmed as entered into the navigation system for final approach to the desired airport, heliport, or helideck and the aircraft is stabilized for the approach.
b. Only small changes in heading/power are normally required to maintain the correct flight path, unless the environmental conditions on a particular day may require power changes larger than normal.
c. All briefings and checklists have been completed, except for the final landing check.
d. The aircraft is in the correct landing configuration.
e. The sink rate is no greater than 750 fpm upon arrival at the altitudes prescribed below, or as recommended by the manufacturer. If an approach will require a rate of descent greater than 750 feet per minute, a special briefing should be conducted.
f. All flights should be stabilized by 1000 feet above landing elevation in IMC and by 500 feet above landing elevation in VMC unless the following flight profiles are in use:
– For helicopters where the transit height is less than500 feet above landing elevation, the aircraft should be stabilized by 300 feet and 60 knots ground speed above the landing surface.
– For some operations, such as seismic work involving a high level of low altitude external load operations and remote landing sites where it is necessary to complete an overhead flight reconnaissance before landing the typical profile may require modification by the operator.
g. Anytime an approach becomes “unstabilized” (out of compliance with the above guidelines) a go-around / missed approach should be executed immediately unless the operator has established a limited number of deviation protocols that can be safely used to return to the stabilized profile.
i. Once the approach minimums (altitude, time, etc.) are achieved the correct airport, heliport, and helideck are confirmed.
OK, got all that? Good, you have 5 minutes and you’re traveling along at 123 knots just 250’ off the deck, with no instruments or compass. It’s raining, blustery and the wave tops are seemingly slopping over your toes.
GO!
We plop down gracelessly on the helipad and I’m glad Dash was stickhandling it today; as he immediately goes through the shut-down procedures.
Guess I’ll need to buy him a beer rather than chew him out when we get back to shore.
I hit the klaxon and several logging company hands run over to the helipad. I tell them to wait until the chopper’s secured and then they can drag that fucking magnetic tool off the bird and over to the drill floor.
Once we do a little cuttin’ and chewin’, we’re going magnet fishing 5 miles deep.
I go over to the doghouse, a steel-sided shelter that serves as the onsite office, communications center, rig top command center, tool and safety equipment storage, first aid station, and extreme weather shelter.
And my fucking active drilling office.
“WHOOT! WHEET!” someone yanks the alarm when I appear on the rig floor. “Boss man’s here. Everyone quit fuckin’ up for a while!” The horn is only local, on the drill floor. It doesn’t resonate back through the rig very far.
The drill floor is immaculate, as it should be. We haven’t cut a foot of new hole in the last week. I give everything a quick visual and everything seems to be in order. A floor hand arrives instantly with a mug of hot black coffee for me.
“No, you can’t go home early, Jake”, I say, “But thanks large for the java.”
Jake looks slightly depressed, but every time he hits 11 or 12 days on his 14-day hitch, things start happening at home. Dog’s pregnant, wife’s pregnant, Uncles dead, Granma’s dead; half the family’s dead and the other half are pregnant.
Every single fucking hitch.
And Jake’s not even married.
Into the doghouse, my chair is still warm as it the monitor for my workstation.
“I find the asshole that’s been accessing PornHub through my workstation and he’s or she’s shark bait. The cocksucker never leaves the unblocked URL so we can visit the website.” I growl.
The internet is a dodgy thing in the Middle East. All of a sudden, international instant access to porn, ideas, forbidden subjects, and well, you name it. It’s a hilarious cat-and-mouse race to watch one group try and block all the nasties and the other group finding easy ways around the blockages.
Still happens today, but with VPNs and such, the Ministries of Censorship just gave up. They went back to hand-coloring British Women’s magazines that show too much thigh or cleavage in the summer swimsuit issues.
It is such a weird place.
I call a meeting with the section heads and everything’s about ready for go. I give the OK and we’re tripping back in the hole with a concave cone-buster reamer and going down some 5 miles to chew up a metal bottom hole assembly. After that, we’ll run-in with the magnets and junk basket. Hopefully, in a day or three, we’ll have the hole clear, circulated, conditioned and ready for drilling again.
Tripping back in the hole some 5 miles means running in some 400 or so stand of ‘tribbles’ or three-30 foot (10 meter) sections of drill pipe already screwed together, or made up. We will need to make another 399 connections and RIH, run in the hole before we even arrive at Fish Central.
So, I’m off to the head; ‘chopper potty’ is not a joke. One tends to get sequentially homogenized on long trips and your bladder takes a harmonic beating. It’s not at all pleasant.
Then some chow, a movie, maybe the gym, and off on the platform to the back smoking area. No hurry, I’ve got at least 24-36 solid hours of boredom in front of me.
Before I go, I give Esme a call and see if she has any further information on Lady and her travels. She was supposed to meet us here and start her short quarantine period before she could join us; even though we’re still at the hotel. The company we’re paying huge sums of money to handle her transition are being royal pains in the ass. Nothing but excuses.
“She got a late start. No room for a dog that big on the flight booked.” Sounds sketchy as hell.
“She’s so big, we needed to have a new travel carrier constructed for her.” Ka-ching! Another call for more money.
“She got stuck in Zurich. She’s fine and will be here shortly.” “Zurich?” She was to go from Houston to London to Duhu.
Esme answers the phone.
Not a single word was spoken. I knew right from the start there was trouble.
“Es, it’s me. I made it to the rig OK. What’s the problem? Are you OK? The kids alright?” I asked.
“Oh, Rock”, Es cries, “I’m fine. The kids are fine. Lady’s dead.”
The shock hit me like a direct lightning-bolt strike and an immediate in-chest thunderclap. I actually thought someone lit off the flare boom directly behind me.
“Es”, I stammered, “What happened? Plane crash? Terrorists? Economy class chow?”
“No, Rock”, she sniffed, “Brown recluse spider.”
“What?” I spluttered.
“According to the assholes to whom we’re paying so much money, Lady was in a “climate-controlled” warehouse waiting on her flight out of Texas. She was being walked, fed, and watered on a regular basis. Just before her flight, they went to walk her and she was ‘unresponsive’.” They said.
“They let my dog, my boon companion, my children’s best friend, die in some overheated Texas warehouse from a motherfucking spider bite?” I roared.
My mind went into overdrive. I could snake the chopper and be at the international airport in less than 2 hours. Wheedle up a flight to London or Amsterdam, then one to Houston. I could be kicking the shit out of these assholes in less than 36 hours.
“Es”, I ask, much more angry that sad; as that would come later, “What do you want me to do?”
“Rock”, Es sniffles, “As much as I’d like you to go back to Texas and blow the fuckers up, I’m afraid it is what it is. There isn’t much we can do, in fact, nothing will bring Lady back. They already got her to Dr. Tom Nokhoi (our vet in Houston) who will handle the red tape. I’ll tell the kids tonight,” Es continues”, “But if you could call Dr. Bob, our family attorney, and let him know what happened, I’m certain he’ll make their lives not worth living from here on out.”
“Es”, I stammer, “I never said I was sorry to you about all this. I apologize deeply. Guess I’m not hitting on all 12 cylinders. I’ll get Dr. Bob going after these assholes. He’ll have their guts for garters. I’ll be home in a few days, or sooner if you want.”
“No, Rock”, Es rationalizes, “You have your job to do. I have mine. Don’t be surprised if you come home and we now have a pony, a new aquarium, a herd of gerbils, and a kitten or three.”
“Whatever it takes, “ I reply, “The kids will be devastated. They’ve known her…all…their…lives…Oh, fuck. This is a shitstorm on so many levels. Let me get after its wild ass and turn Dr. Bob loose on them.” Right now, the idea of Dr. Bob chewing on their metaphorical and economic asses…well, that’s the only thing that is giving me any sort of solace.
“OK, Rock”, Es sniffs, “I’ll take care of the home front, you release the Dr. Bob on these assholes. Stay safe. Come home to us in one piece. Love you.” She sighs and signs off.
I am beyond pissed. Past furious. Way past livid. I’ll let Dr. Bob take whatever he can get from these asswipes. The money doesn’t matter. I want revenge. A reckoning. Vengeance. Reprisal. Retribution, not restitution.
I sic Dr. Robert ‘Bob’ Roberts, JD, Esquire, of Kingwood, Texas on them. He knew something was askew when I called him at 0300 hours. He really liked Lady. He’s going to make these assholes an example for the Texas Law Journal. Or the Houston Chronicle obituaries.
Beyond that, there’s not much I can do. I wander back to the smoking area on the backside of the rig, pull out my secret flask, and a new cigar. I finished both solo to Lady’s memory. I didn’t even go to my office nor check-in, I was so pissed off. The important people knew I was here, that was enough for the time being.
I know one should adhere to the rules of the rig and out here, 125 miles from the coast in an Arab land, ‘no alcohol on the rig’ is pretty much a given.
Guess they need a real introduction to the Motherfucking Pro from Dover.” Besides, this time, it’s medicinal. Either that or I break into the explosives locker and I begin to blow up shit until I feel better. Guess which one will probably take fewer lives?
In the doghouse again, we’re back on bottom with the custom-made mill I had custom fabricated in Texas, and we’re grinding away. What we’re doing is sensu stricto not legal, as we’re chewing up the LWD/MWD, Logging While Drilling/Measuring While Drilling tools, and they carry some radioactive sources.
In the States, in the event of a loss involving a radioactive source, the tool and hole must be filled with cement, plugged, and abandoned to safely entomb the sources. These sources are infinitesimal amounts of Americium-241, and Cesium-242, much like what is found in commercial smoke detectors.
But, the stuff we’re currently turning into expensive metallic confetti is 5 miles deep in the earth and with a half-life of just 150-5,000 years. It ain’t never, no way, going to make it back to surface. We just keep calm and carry on grinding.
Drill, grind, shred. POOH, pull out of hole, run in hole with the magnet, and junk basket, energize, and POOH. Rinse and repeat. Finally, we’re making some headway until we hit the tungsten carbide insert drill bit.
These are usually classified as ‘undrillable’. Lose one of them, and it’s Sidetrack City.
Usually ain’t no other fuckin’ way around them.
Or is there?
I have them C&C the well, that is, circulate and condition the hole, so it’s stable top to bottom and not stratified; the mud column in the well is homogeneous in nature. Then we POOH again and I’ve got this cunning plan. Stick a tail on it and you could call it a fox.
If we can’t drill up the bit, perhaps we can just nudge it out of the way. We can steer our bottom hoe assembly, so maybe a push downward…It’s like hitting an oncoming asteroid. You don’t have to destroy the thing, just deflect it a mite. If we can literally shove it out of the way a few feet, we can slide by with the new Bottom Hole Assembly, save days and days of rig time, at some US$1.85 million/per 24-hour period, and get back to drilling.
I have the floor hands rig up a special BHA of my own design: a heavy, concave-faced lead impression block at the front, then hydraulic jars, shock sub, heavyweight drill pipe, and remex crossover sub that connects to the drill pipe.
It’s not ‘elegant’, basically a power hammer with a steerable trajectory. But, we get onto that bit and get good contact, we might just be able to hammer and power slide that SOB out of the fucking way.
It’s worth a try.
So, we RIH, run in the hole, and down the obligatory 5 miles until we make contact. We achieve what seems like a good seat and try to slide under just the weight of 24,000+ feet of drill pipe; over 1.65 million pounds of hook-load.
We’re blocked.
OK, that’s fine. That means the lead impression block is molding around the bitter end of the bit like a custom hand-in-leather glove. Now when we apply the hydraulic horsepower, it’ll have to move forward. Give a little more juice left or right, up or down and we should be able to steer it out of the way.
We can’t just build a ‘hump’ in the well path around the bit. With sliding, reciprocating, and rotation, that’d be what we in the industry call ‘a bad thing’. It would key seat, wear preferentially and cut holes in drill pipe and casing…just causing all sorts of grief.
So. We need to steer it out of the way of the pre-ordained well path and hammer it the fuck out of the way. We’ll pull back, drop some cement in the bottom of the hole, trip back in and drill our way back on target.
Jarring and hammering with the rig is a slow, tedious prospect. Keeping an eye on all parameters, more so than usual. If you inadvertently punch into a sub-seismic fault zone, an area of overpressure, or a high-pressure gas zone, you could well and truly be fucked.
So, it’s a slow, deliberate go. I personally run the show for the first 15 hours until I’m certain we’re off the predetermined well path and the bit’s being stuffed off to Bolivia, or Greenland or… I don’t care where just the fuck out of the way.
I hand the rig over to the rig superintendent and tell him that unless anything funny happens, we’ll keep hammering and pushing until 0800 hours. That way, the bit will be out of the way and we can trip back in, set a cement plug, and get back to drilling.
I’m exhausted, still mightily pissed about Lady, and thought about calling Dr. Bob.
Nah, too early, besides I need some chow and rack time.
Chow first.
One thing about every offshore rig I‘ve worked on, the food is fabulous. Amazing quality and quantity. And if you get a specific head chef, like Huib Klein Huismink from Dutchland or Đỗ Trọng Nghĩa from Ho Chi Minh City; you’re gonna have a good tour.
They don’t just cook, they chef. In their own inimitable styles.
We’re lucky enough on this project to have Đỗ Trọng Nghĩa, or Doh!, after a famous American cartoon sitcom noise.
He can make the most amazing SE Asian dishes. How he and his crew does it three times a day for over 145 hungry bodies just beggars imagination. He also keeps a supply of high-octane ‘cooking juice’ available for me in exchange for some of my cigars.
It’s called the barter system and has served mankind for billions of years.
“So, Doh, whaddya know?” I ask, walking up to the steam tables laden with not dinner and not quite yet breakfast chow.
“Fucking morning warnings to you very much, Doctor Rock”, Doh smiles by way of greeting. His English is as dodgy as my Chichewa.
We’re the best of friends.
I hand him a box of Cubans I confiscated from Duty-Free back in Amsterdam. Pricey, but that box will last Doh and me the whole project. So, economically, it makes sense.
“Doctor”, Doh asks, “See anything you like or want Doh to make you something special?”
“Doh”, I reply, “I require meat. In great, gory, giant, bleeding hunks. And a couple of your world-famous rice-paper shrimp spring rolls for starters. Also, some of that incredible Vietnamese Iced Coffee you got me hooked on.”
I loathe sweet iced tea and coffee. Except for Mr. Doh’s. With heavy crème, strong boot-black coffee, and a very secret liqueur over ice in a French Press. It’s ambrosial.
Mr. Doh quickly hands me a small 2-cup French Press, ready to go. He tells me to sit, savor a soupçon and he’ll have my dinner-breakfast ready before I start on the second cup.
The coffee has enough caffeine to give a cadaver a chubby, and it helps me to throw off the general funk I‘ve had afflicting me since I spoke last with Es. A double-pair of shrimp spring rolls arrive as amuse-bouche before Mr. Doh’s main event.
Before I can pour another cup of his amazing coffee, a prime dry-aged porterhouse steak, easily 36 ounces, charred on the outside, blue on the inside, arrives. I don’t know how he does it, but he makes some sort of flower-pepper grilling sauce that so light, so subtle, and so sneaky, you’re halfway through the steak before you break out in the sweats and your brain happily melts.
It’s marvelous; in every sense of the word. Always make friends with the chefs, especially when you’re part of a captive audience. No Qwik Stop, 7-11, or Stop-n-Robs just around the corner out here.
Properly satiated, I wander back to my room. Now, on a rig such as this, where people work in 12-on, 12-off shifts, most folks that are not management ‘hot sheet’ it. That is, they share a bed with someone on the opposite shift. Hey, there’s only so much room on a drilling rig platform, one must sometimes make concessions.
But not me. I’m running the show and as such, rank has its privilege. I have my room which is also my on-rig office with en suite full bathroom, in-room refrigerator, fax machine, computer with non-governmentally interfered internet lash-up, work desk, chair, monitors for every aspect of the rig and a private, encrypted telephone.
It’s my room, my office. Imagine my surprise when I round the corner and see a line extending out of my room and down the hall.
I walk straight on by, as most everyone on the rig probably wouldn’t recognize me.
Like hell, they wouldn’t. I run safety orientations, resolve onboard personnel issues, greet new hires and boot slackers and goldbricks. Besides that, I run the operations for this vessel. Like hell, they don’t know who I am. But I haven’t made my presence back on the rig generally known.
Yet. They think that by ignoring me, I won’t be able to see them.
I walk 10 feet to my room/office, see it’s a shambles. Shambles as in all my cigars are gone, someone’s on the Internet ‘Turning Japanese’ over amateur-midget leather-fetish dog-n-pony show porn. Plus, there’s actually someone or some three in my damned bed.
Vesuvius in 79 CE had nothing on me when I went off.
“WHAT THE FLYING FUCK IS GOING ON HERE!?!” I bellow, “What the fuck are you assholes doing in my office?”
Yeah, kindly ol’ Dr. Rocknocker is a wee bit pissed off.
“Up against the wall, you redneck motherfuckers. Each and every one of you.” I roar. I hit the klaxon in my office to call security when I notice that three of them are currently holding up a piece of bulkhead.
“Looks like we’re gonna need a crew boat, the Federales and some new security officers,” I growled.
The vast majority of these goombahs are East Indian or subcontinental ex-pats. They’re paid a pittance and do all the shit work. But, they knew the job was dangerous when they took it, no one is holding a gun to their head in Mumbai or Chennai or Islamabad forcing them over here. It wasn’t me.
One or two decide to make a break for it, thinking I wouldn’t notice. My size 16s made short work of that ill-formed idea.
“Next one that tries that goes over the side”, I growl loudly, telling them of an impending 225-foot straight south swan dive if anyone gets cute again. “Don’t think I won’t do it. You’ll be holding just enough C-4 that’ll detonate just before you hit the water. The local sharks will love that.”
They all know of my proclivities for solving problems with devices that generate rapidly expanding gases. Most of them shudder at the thought that, yes, I am that pissed and that unhinged to actually make good on my threats.
Rig Security arrives and I first chew them a new asshole for allowing such a disaster to happen.
“They were probably selling raffle tickets”, I roared, “How the fuck could you not know this was going on?”

“OK, if that’s your response, I’m calling it. Rig shut down! NOW!” And I go to get into my office and hit the big, shiny red Panic Button. One smash of that and the reactor’s scrammed, metaphorically speaking. That is, all power is cut to standby, the well’s made static, and all electrical power is diverted to the doghouse until the well is shut-in and steady.
I press that button and it’s easily $4-5 million dollars down the drain in lost time and productivity; as we have previously completed wells flowing through the tubulars of the rig. We’re not just a drilling platform out here, we’re a production platform as well.
“So, Dr. Rock”, the tribunal asks, “Why did you think it necessary to hit the Panic Button?”
“Because these motherfucking brain-dead security shitheads couldn’t be trusted enough to keep the other assholes out of management’s offices. Can you imagine the state secrets they’re selling to the guys just 20 miles north across the border in Irun?”
At least, that’s what I would have said if a couple of the security guards hadn’t fessed up and admitted they knew what was going on. They were actually taking kickbacks from workers so the workers could take showers, use my bed which was by now, indescribably filthy, and the spooge all over the Internet.
“OK. Let’s see. You, you and you, hand in your cards. You’re done here. Get to the rec room and sit there until the next crew boat arrives. No choppers, those are for workers.” I inform them. “You get to wait for the next crew boat and hopefully a really nasty thunderstorm.”
Two comply, but the former Sergeant of security protests that I’m too draconian. Besides little damage was done.
“You’re lucky I don’t hold you in irons, Sgt. Shitheels. It’s Rule of the Sea out here, bucko. You’re damned fucking lucky I just don’t stuff all your asses in a rubber raft and set you off adrift, left to your own devices.” I snarl back, as they knew I could legally do so.
By now, real security had arrived. I told them to collect each and every one of these assholes green and yellow cards. The green ones allowing them to work in the country, and the yellow ones allowing them to work on the rig.
“I want a list of names, I want a list of sponsors, I want phone numbers, and I want my office back in order within the next 3 hours. That doesn’t happen, then you all can explain yourself to the tribunal I’m calling back onshore.” I snarl, almost slathering.
“I will be in the rec room,”, I inform security. The rec room is a pretty good-sized open area for ping-pong, pool, snooker, TV, movies, smoking, and drinking your non-alcoholic drinks when you’re off duty. I’m commandeering it as an ad hoc jury room.
“I want to personally see each and every one of these asswipes before me starting in 15 minutes. The first ones I want to see are the three assholes caught in my bed. We green?” I snarl.
I am handed a couple of stacks of green and yellow cards.
“First one, 14 minutes. We green?” I ask again.
“Oh, yes, Doctor. Very green!”
“Goddamned idiots,” I growl and walk down to the rec room.
Luckily, I have a locker in the rec room where I keep some extra personal items. Gym stuff, spare shades, safety gear extras, earhole plugs for well tests, and a box or two of cigars. Smoking is allowed in the rec room, but being enclosed, I’m usually Dr. Nice Guy and don’t fire up a heater in there.
However, today is different. Very different, sorry to say for the group of laughing boys I’m going to be interviewing starting in 10 minutes.
I’m sitting behind a table with a notepad, a lit cigar; OK, I did fire up the in-room Smoke Eater, and a transcribed list of names and cards, all alphabetized. I‘m ready to dispense some maritime frontier justice.
The first three show up and they’re the ones getting all cuddly in my bed. Besides being personally squicked out about all that, even though I don’t give a shit about a person’s personal proclivities, I do at least ask, respectfully, to keep it the fuck OUT of my bed.
Consenting adults can do what the fuck they want as far as I’m concerned. But doing it on the rig floor, on top the helipad when we’re trying to land, or in my GODDAMNED bed sort of pushes the edge of the envelope a bit.
“So?”, I ask holding up their cards, “These yours?”
They all nod. They can barely speak Urdu, Pashto, Hindi, or Outer Buttfuckistanese much less English, Russian, or Mandarin. I dragoon one of the driller’s hands into being an improvised translator. I want to make certain that these characters understand the thunder they’ve called down.
“Can you understand me now?” I ask.
“Yes”, “Yes”, and “Yes”, came the hang-dog replies.
“Why we’re you in my bed?” I ask, further, “You must have known whose office that was. What the actual fuck, guys?”
No replies other than a sudden interest in the rig’s riveted and engine-turned metal floor.
“Look”, I say, “Right now, you’re all on the way back to Calicut, Lahore, Kathmandu or whatever other gritty shithole you assholes call home. You’re all fired. Done. Finito. Plus I keep your green and yellow cards. Good luck finding a job where ever you end up. Should have spoken up when you had the chance. Next?”
They hear the translation and all the color drains from their faces. One of them, an engineer of some sort, screws up the courage to call me an asshole and says “What difference does it make. You weren’t there and it wasn’t being used! You asshole.”
“OK”, I smile, “At least we’re communicating. You married?”
He puffs himself up. “Yes. Many years.”.
“Yeah”, I smile, “Me too. So it’d be OK for someone from your town to be fucking your wife right now, correct? I mean you’re not there and she wasn’t being used. Right, you asshole?”
I thought he was going to explode. He was livid, enraged, and otherwise peeved a bit.
“Fuck you goddamned big American asshole. Fuck you and your family too!’ he spits.
“Whoa!”, I smirk, “Guess I hit a nerve there, didn’t I? Going to go out anyways, may as well go out in a blaze of glory, right you little smirking dooly-boy cocksucker?”
He just stood there and fumed.
“OK’, I say, “Use a little of that ire and give me a reason not to toss your ass to the wolves; or sharks, as the case may be.”
“It cost us money. To pay off security guards. They started it. You weren’t even here and your room was empty. They sold it off in pieces for the most money. Say anything to boss people and you will go away. They threatened us.” He averred.
“Oh, ho! Right. OK, let me see if that’s the case.”, I call over to one of the security guards I could trust and tell him to go get those other 3 erstwhile guards and bring them over.
To be continued

MLMs, Pyramid Scheme and Networking; they're all same, and all the reasons and facts why you shouldn't invest in any of it.

MLMs and Pyramid Schemes both rely on recruiting people and getting them to sign up. MLMs are different by them having products that make their members distribute and move, this is also what they use to mask themselves as legal business or companies. Both of these schemes promote themselves as 'legitimate business opportunity for everyone', with a promise of financial freedom and passive income after paying the sign up fee. These alone are huge red flags that you'll be wasting your money (and time), if you do invest with an MLM.

Misrepresentation and Lies with Income disclosure.

1. Over 97% of MLM recruiters lie or do not disclose their income, this is mainly because:
2. The loss rate for these MLM recruiters are 99.05% to 99.99%.
3. On Average, one in 545 (0.2%) is likely to have profited after expenses.
4. 997 of 1000 (99.7%) individuals involved with MLMs lose money--not including the time invested.
5. On Average, most MLM members in the US earn 1,000 usd annually. That is before expenses.
6. That passive income they promise their leads are only enjoyed by the ones at the top of the Pyramid.
7. Ironically, the up lines facade of a more-than-average income is non-existent.

Misleading words and promises.

1. A recruiter may call or post a survey, such as this: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSenClrKIuxTvSmcEk8QnGMLSH46gNocDs2hjXDOuTBTsTBMTw/viewform

As they are told to do by their up lines, they mislead people by saying working at an MLM is part time. You will be putting in a lot of time, with little left for yourself, just by calling and scouring for people as potential leads.

1. MLM members refer to themselves as 'businessmen' or 'entrepreneurs', but it is so far from what they really do: 2a. Members have no control with their products 2b. Doing calls, inviting people to seminars, and reselling products do not mean doing actual business.

List of MLMs present in the Philippines:

1. BHIP Philippines / bHIP Global Inc. (stylized as b:HIP)
2. Front Row Enterprise
3. Crowd1
4. NWORLD (Rebranded from ROYALE BUSINESS CLUB)
5. Herbalife
6. Usana
7. Avon
8. Uno
9. DOTERRA
10. Youngliving
11. I AM WORLDWIDE CORPORATION
12. ONLINEBIZ E-COMMERCE
13. NU Skin
14. IMG

View more here :

Are MLMs legal in the Philippines?

"MLM might be confused with pyramiding, an illegal business method where compensation is derived from either simple recruitment (without sales) or complex recruitment (balancing a pair of recruits, as in a binary plan, not allowed by the Consumer Code of the Philippines and Department of Trade and Industry’s Administrative Order No.8)."
To determine wether or not an MLM leans toward recruiting than retail, you'd have to be a member to do so. Like bHIP Philippines, This MLM focuses more ob recruiting, without even having a proper warehouse for retail products. This is what MLMs do to cover themselves up as legal business, by coming up with a line of retail products in a specific category (health, Cosmetics, services, etc).
This is why MLMs are referred to as "barely legal" by many. It is a Pyramid Scheme by the way it operates, with only their products to create a facade of them being a legal and proper business.

If you want to know more about how bad MLMs are, still confused about it being a real business, and how this structure has ruined lives of many: here are some excellent contents you can watch:

1. "Betting on Zero" available on Netflix.
2. "Multilevel Marketing: Last Week Tonight with John Oliver"

What have some Reddit users said about MLMs? I read through and compiled comments and stories from our fellow reddit users.

1. Posted by u/ReelHield on Phinvest, his thoughts on IMG:
"Correct me if I'm wrong but this is where your 5k went:
1. 1k investment in Soldivo MF (bad mutual fund* since it charges high management fees of 2.25% per annum. Bad returns as well especially if you compare with index funds).* 2. 2.5k for the frame of eyeglasses (not needed by all) 3. a free book worth 150 pesos (which you can also buy even if you are not a member). 4. seminars worth 150 pesos total (you can attend 5 free workshops if you pay 150 pesos for the work book. You can buy the workbook even if you are not a member).
That's a total of only 3.8k if you need glasses. And only 1.3k if you don't need glasses.
#Bad investment."
Link to the comment.
2. u/knotsureifsrs on Phinvest, about IMG:
"I went with Luma Health instead. I read too many negative reviews on IMG health insurance. I also spoke to broker who told me to run the other way from IMG."
Link to the comment.

1. By a deleted user, thoughts on IMG: "You get 20% to 37% commission for your downlines. And your boss gets commission from your downlines too. Any idea who will pay for all of these commissions?"

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/phinvest/comments/b9psr5/IMG%3A_A_One-stop-shop_for_financial_services_or_just_another_MLM%3F/ek648lo/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by GrayGr4y: "Eh, checked their FB page and it looks like they have this "X-amount-earner-award" thing and member tiers (Green Jacket tier?) -> classic MLM. If what argonautrock said in his comment regarding the commission is true, then yeah, MLM. I also dislike the fact that they're using "financial literacy" to entice members (the irony)."

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/phinvest/comments/b9psr5/IMG%3A_A_One-stop-shop_for_financial_services_or_just_another_MLM%3F/ek64saa/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by ginoong_tama: "been 5 months ... yeah , exactly ... everytime I ask a question , they always say that "Attend the seminar" . tapos yung free seminar naman panay "success stories" , "how I turn my life around" , "turning point" walang Q&A . OMG yung 4.5 k ... ko ...tangina sayang ... plus 3.1k ... tangina.... :("

Link to the comment here: https://www.reddit.com/phinvest/comments/b9psr5/IMG%3A_A_One-stop-shop_for_financial_services_or_just_another_MLM%3F/f07hrpj/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by existentialdonut: "I did too. Gave the final down payment of my tuition 7k + savings of 3k. Mom found out, and swore to me she'll get the money back. We were able to because we have relatives who are policemen. She tore the whole place down screaming at the adult recruiters how they're ruining the lives of all those college students forced to scam within that vicinity in order to earn. It was too late to return to school by then, but at least we used the money for other important stuff and also starting anew. "

Link to the comment is here: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4vb7ga/Your_Philippine_Scam_Stories/d5x383u/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by pawedbear, about UNO: "I joined UNO back when I was in college. Well, I was young, inexperienced and naive. I didn't know any better. It cost me 4k of my personal savings to learn the hard lesson that nothing good would come out of MLM. It was just the membership fee. At least I haven't purchased any product from them and waste more money."

Link to the comment is here: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4vb7ga/Your_Philippine_Scam_Stories/d5x0kah/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by a deleted user, about NU Skin: "Actually i have an MLM scam story. A guy called me who sounded super professional about wanting to schedule a job interview. I was excited cause I just finished my work contract as a working student and had no job. I unfortunately went to OCTAGON tower in ortigas and instead, ended up in a Nu skin seminar. That day sucked."

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4vb7ga/Your_Philippine_Scam_Stories/d5xbxl8/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Another from pawedbear, about an MLM seminar: "This one called me too before I began studying for college. I was happy to take a summer job so I can have additional income. I thought it was gonna be a call center job or something, because the woman who called me kept talking about a seminar and kept throwing around the word 'professional' during our conversation.

When I got there, the seminar started and the speaker was even encouraging us to steal money from parents just to start this 'business' with them because it is soooo awesome and sooo totally worth it! And for those people who showed interest to join them, their first 'assignment' was to provide at least 50 (or was it 100? I already forgot) contact info so they can pester more people to join them."
Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4vb7ga/Your_Philippine_Scam_Stories/d5xs4eh/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by LightEverIncreasing, about USANA and their ridiculous health claims: "USANA Coffeeshop experience. Some of their claim:
   
2. Albert Einstein awardee daw yung founder nila. Checked it, he's not.
   
3. Yung vitamins daw nila yung may pinakamataas na bioavailability sa market. Source: from book written by a doctor na investor sa company nila. No independent verifier whatsoever.
   
4. Si Myron Wentz (founder) daw ang nakadiscover ng penicillin. (Eto talaga yung signal na puro BS lang sinasabi nila kasi alam naman natin na si Flemming un jusko elem pa lang tinuturo na yun pero syempre ngiti ngiti lang ako lol)
   
5. Mas maganda daw talaga maginvest sa kanila compared sa mga Jollibee na average Php 200k MONTHLY lang daw ang kita!
   
6. Di man lang ako binilhan ng kape for the whole hour na nag sales pitch sila. Kahit sila di man lang bumili. Lol"
   

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4vb7ga/Your_Philippine_Scam_Stories/d5x4ajw/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by marcusneil, about a misleading Frontrown invitation: "Yung sumali ako sa Frontrow Enterprises. Kukunin daw nila akong model sa isang photoshoot, sumama naman ako dun sa bading na bisaya na parang naka-mena pa tapos pa-conyo. It turns out na networking pala yung nasalihan ko, tangina wala na akong takas though may mga nakikita akong models din na parang na-dismaya yung makita nila yung lugar tapos may sumisigaw pang POWER! Mga may familiar faces sa showbiz akong nakita pero hindi pa rin akong ma-convince na sumali. Suddenly bigla na lang akong napa-OO, na bibili ako ng products nila, yung kaya lang ng budget ko that time na glutathione capsule. Tapos pinapahanap pa ako ng ng mga downlines. Tawag na sa akin "ups" or upline. Ang malupit pa nun, binigyan niya ako ng folder tapos tanungin ko isa isa yung mga members kung pano sila "tumaas" sa pyramid. Tangina talaga that time. Work ang hanap ko tapos bigla akong magtatanong ng mga umaasa sa benta ng ibang tao para kumita. Kainin ko daw ang pride ko. Tapos yung kwento nila paulit-ulit scripted. Ang nakakaasar pa, yung mga nasa "taas" ginagamit yung pera ng iba para makapag-Singapore lang. Pa-cool. Hindi good life kung hindi COOL life ang mga sana Frontrow. Para sa kanila, status symbol kung may sportscar ka. Na binili nila gamit ang pera ng downlines."

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4vb7ga/Your_Philippine_Scam_Stories/d5xb0uf/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by gingervread, about all MLMs: "Fuck MLM. Fuck Networking. All of them, maybe except Avon (???). Around 99.999% (conservative estimate) of networking are scams. They are pyramid schemes disguised as product distributing companies. They all have the same tell. All their products are overpriced. Way overpriced! San ka nakakita sabon 3k?

You'd think that a 3k-priced bar of soap would make members see through their bullshit, but no..Most members are already too sucked in to this get-rich scheme to back out of the deal. It defies common sense, really.
I was 16 years old when I was first invited in a networking event. Jusko po, parang kulto. People shouting "Power!!" at the back. I call them hype men. Jesus, these people are so desperate but who can blame them really? Most of them are working 9-5 jobs and have no concrete plans on their life. Hell, most of them are in their mid-20s. Really a sad site. I just hope the new government will do something about these companies but I know they won't do shit. Many big names in the government are at the top of these pyramid schemes.
Fuck MLM. Fuck Networkers. And fuck that Ortigas building in particular (you know the one)."
Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4svcad/Networking_here_in_the_philippines_scams_in_the_philippines/d5ctva?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by noidentity63, about UNO, Royale Business Club and USANA: "I remember when my cousin from UNO tried to recruit me years ago. Said that I am guaranteed to have a car in just a few years or so. It's always the cars no? Anyway, these scumbags will go as far as to suggest STEALING from your parent's wallets so that you'd have the means to buy their business packages. And they will absolutely pester you to no end even though you've made it very clear that you're not interested in their bs.

Oh and don't even get me talking about USANA, and Royale Business Club. It will just worsen the headache that I'm already having.
What a fuckin' joke. Fuck MLMs. Fuck "open-mindedness"."
Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4svcad/Networking_here_in_the_philippines_scams_in_the_philippines/d5d2nab/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by ManbutterJam, about NU Skin: I became "open minded" and entertained a discussion with someone from NuSkin. At first it was ok kasi they talk about success and all. Attended several of their talks pero I noticed na paulit ulit yung mga sinasabi. Then nung time na they were convincing me to invest, I asked them numerous questions like, where will the money be used? Where will the pay out be coming from? What's the groups main source of revenue? So when they weren't able to defend that fact the pay out will come from other people's investment and not from selling the product, I declined upfront. Sustainability and legitimacy as my defense. I bet involved people are victims as well who just want their money back and eventually nakain na ng systema."

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4svcad/Networking_here_in_the_philippines_scams_in_the_philippines/d5cupib/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by erwinuvatar, on MLM and Church invitations: I stopped going to church because of MLM. It was a small church, I attended it regularly because I liked the close-knit community. Then they started doing MLM (power!), and it bothered me how the supposedly brotherly/sisterly fellowship was tainted by greed.

To be fair, I'm sure not all of them had ill-intentions, but it was somewhat of an eye-opener for me. The way networking scams operate is by aggressive recruitment, and it naturally coincided with the discipleship structure of organized religion (probably only applicable to evangelicals). Which is why, now, I have the same reaction to invitations to church activities or to MLM seminars. No, thank you."
Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4svcad/Networking_here_in_the_philippines_scams_in_the_philippines/d5cvngg/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by narkko, about USANA: "Got tricked with USANA once. By my college friend, no less. Well, she did get me to by a pair of supplements thru installment basis. I have nothing against her engaging in MLM but I am against MLM in general because they make people believe in quick money. Some even to the point that they quit their normal day jobs just for this. Those success stories they post on Facebook? Yeah, if I was drugged, I might be able to believe that.Is it not possible that these companies sell their products without the need for 'recruitment'? Are they even aware of how this business structure is being perceived by some people? Or do they just not give a single fuck?"

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4svcad/Networking_here_in_the_philippines_scams_in_the_philippines/d5d1qba/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by spidermanluke, about USANA: "I'm currently a member of USANA that's being managed by my auntie who's the one who also registered me there i'm her downline, my dad paid for my membership fee, in which, we really are not interested in the first place. My dad says "tulong nalang sa tita mo". They're really fooled into that business all of her words are too good to be true, they have this so called seminars/trainings wherein they will sharpen their knives (if i'm not mistaken). Those trainings are full of bs claiming that they're earning 10,000 USD monthly. IDK how/why people are falling with that scam.I haven't attended any seminar in that enterprise one building. However a presenter visited our house wherein my tita invited friends to listen. I asked the presenter, if it is possible not to "recruit" and her answer was vague and abrupt by telling me the benefits of being a member. If i'm not mistaken that presenter is earning 100,000 pesos per week (as she claims it to be) I'm a member of their GC in FB of the USANA group thing and they're having an outing in a cheap location. sagot niya na daw yung rice sa pot lock and soft drinks and BTW that outing is for her birthday POT LOCK FOR HER BIRTHDAY! how's that for a person who earns 100k a week."

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4svcad/Networking_here_in_the_philippines_scams_in_the_philippines/d5d2bkt/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by SplitBamboo in response to spidermanluke: "Hey spidermanluke, I'm late to this thread, but my cousin in the Philippines won't stop messaging me on Facebook about USANA. She talks about the doctors who took her to a seminar and conference and the priests/nuns she knows who have taken it. And referencing Manny Pacquiao, but I'm pretty sure he could care less about USANA supplements.

After some months, she finally asked for some money to help start her business. I told her what I thought about USANA and how it's an MLM business, but she keeps telling me about all these success stories. I'm just not buying it. She sounds more desperate and desperate and I just feel sad about it because she wants me to help her start."

1. Posted by a deleted user, a former MLM member: "I have been an MLM member and earned a small fortune na rin. The problem is when people focus on recruiting when the focus should be direct selling the product (which is hard since mahal nga kasi nakanetworking) na dapat gawin para hindi hard sell ang recruitment if ever people want the products. The other problem is crappy products katulad ng sa SWA na kung tutuusin ay illegal kasi zero ang value ng 'products' nila.. Couple this with stupid people who think tagging friends with their adverts is online marketing and plagiarizing is "copy business", I am not suprised MLM is frowned upon. Wala na ako sa networking. (I burned out, long story.) I won't do it again kasi I learned that I can sell things online without having to buy in. People in MLM still hire me today as a website consultant though. Learned a lot though... Like what a (real) network can do for you and the value of persevering even when you are already starving."

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/4svcad/Networking_here_in_the_philippines_scams_in_the_philippines/d5cz98t/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by wan2tri, on MLMs being cult-ish: "Cult-ish talaga kasi ganyan naman kahit sa actual cults. Ang naging difference lang is kung pera ba o religiousness ang emphasized (and sa case ng Scientology, both meron LOL)"

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/ey4sn8/usana_and_frontorow_scams/fgf6jza/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by jealogy, this user knows the facade the MLM members put up: "Same. But whenever I do, I just come back here and read all the antiMLM posts and then I feel better. Reality for MLM-ers is harsh. They flex their earnings but in reality, they lose more than what they earn."

Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/ey4sn8/usana_and_frontorow_scams/fmkc748/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

1. Posted by a deleted user, this is a long one: "I've been in that industry and made a small amount of money (around 1mil) and it was extremely difficult. I also did not try and actively recruit people instead moved products.

What I noticed is the unethical ways of getting recruits -- kidnap (yung di alam ni friend na prepresentan sya), ganging on a prospect and egging them to join, overhyping. I did not do those and never advocated to downlines doing these.
The industry is also chock-full of plagiarists because they are being taught of 'copy business', which I trully despise. What made me quit is when plagiarists started to overrun my website (my source of leads) and clones pop out faster than I can issue take down notices.
The industry also breeds a unique kind of arrogant people: those who are dirt poor, neck deep in debt but think they have the right to lecture an employee who earns 50k a month just because he is an employee.
The top people are junkies: those who jump from company to company for bigger offers or at the first sign of company decline. Ganun sila kagarapal. I've been in the top 20 and the top irked me a lot.
Now I am a full time affliate marketer, and freelances as a blogger for some ex-networkers who built their own businesses. The only thing that was good for my two year stay in networking is the network of acquaintances I got.
So yea that is my story."
Link to the comment: https://www.reddit.com/Philippines/comments/61rxxq/What_is_your_interesting_MLM_story%3F/dfh2a5m/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
23. Posted by a deleted user, about cheques and photoshoots:
"When I was in that industry, the picture holding money was not in fashion. Pictures of your cheques, yes. Picture of you looking like like an idiot holding a pile of cash like it is a fan, no. It is tacky af imho.
Pictures with cars, yes. I did not have a photoshoot with mine because a) mine was not a product of networking (more on this later) b) i think it is tacky and I do not like getting my picture taken anyway.
Now here is the funny thing about cars in networking. It is manipulative. Pang power daw. The ironic thing about the cars is the way they acquired it. The company buys the car for them. No kidding. However, your uplines must recommend you first. I was never recommended because of the way I sell (i focus on moving the products, not recruiting people) which is also one of the reasons why I am salty right now lol."
Link to the comment.
24. Posted by u/stupperr, about NU Skin:
"Hayy. Mom ko napasali sa NU skin, although kumikita(daw) naman sya tapos active sa mga feeding program then natutulungan din naman yung iba naming kamag anak at maganda naman products nila kaso sobrang mahal nga lang. Pero naiinis lang ako kapag kinukwestyon ko yang business na yan tapos nagagalit siya, at napapagsabihan ko din si ma na magpahinga muna sa pag babad niya sa phone, aba nagagalit at hanapbuhay daw kasi yun eh halos di ko nga siya makausap ng eye to eye at laging siyang nakatungo.
Ayoko din yung napapa-selfie sya at mag picture ng kung ano ano sa FB para daw makahakot ng likes sabay endorse ng produkto, samantala dati bwiset na bwiset sya sa mga selfie at mag post ng kung ano ano para sa likes. Hayy, too late na para tumiwalag siya. F U NU skin, F U din yung nag imbita sa kanya. Pasensya sa rant. Putangina naman oh. :("
Link to the comment.