Craigslist status: access issues and outage reports

Problems in the last 24 hours

The graph below depicts the number of Craigslist reports received over the last 24 hours by time of day. When the number of reports exceeds the baseline, represented by the red line, an outage is determined.

Most Reported Problems

The following are the most recent problems reported by Craigslist users through our website.

• Errors (63%)
• Website Down (25%)
• Sign in (13%)

Live Outage Map

The most recent Craigslist outage reports came from the following cities:

City	Problem Type	Report Time
Aurora	Sign in	1 month ago
Oklahoma City	Website Down	1 month ago
Columbus	Errors	2 months ago
Juneau	Errors	2 months ago
Juneau	Errors	2 months ago
Allentown	Website Down	3 months ago

Full Outage Map

Community Discussion

Tips? Frustrations? Share them here. Useful comments include a description of the problem, city and postal code.

Beware of "support numbers" or "recovery" accounts that might be posted below. Make sure to report and downvote those comments. Avoid posting your personal information.

Craigslist Issues Reports

Latest outage, problems and issue reports in social media:

• 
  Alicia (@BarracoAlicia) reported 2 minutes ago

  @1995_nightowl Damn, that’s next-level neighborhood apocalypse. Karen didn’t just fumble the bag—she burned the whole village down, collected blackmail checks, shopped the baby like it was Craigslist furniture, and then dropped the video as the grand finale.

• 
  Noticing Goy (@Noticing_Goy) reported 4 minutes ago

  @missenterry1 @poojeetstreet I used to refurbish electronics and build computer systems to sell on Craiglist. Hundreds of sales. I simply didn't sell to them. Chinese as well. They aren't much better. If the voice on the phone was broken English, I hung up and blocked.

• 
  C (@0xce42) reported 5 minutes ago

  @Mossyfoxx Either fix it or sell yours on craigslist and buy a new one.

• 
  Aaron Lemke (@aaronlemke) reported 11 minutes ago

  My ADU was broken into recently and several musical instruments were stolen. So I built Vigilanthony An agent who tracks stolen items. It has a list of all my stolen items, and every morning scans online marketplaces like Craigslist and Ebay along with several **** shop sites surrounding the Austin area. It then analyzes the results and looks for matches with my item list. No hits yet but we will stay vigilant. ✊

• 
  KDB 👁️ controversial woman appreciator (@httpswebpage) reported 11 minutes ago

  lease isn't up for six months but I'm still scrolling craigslist ads to get my heart broken

• 
  Cheng Liu (@Cliu122Liu) reported 11 minutes ago

  @AntiWokeMemes Craigslist was my friend, the only issue was transporting the stuff since myself and most of my friends were too poor to own a car.

• 
  Skeyromie 🐦 (@Skeyromie) reported 12 minutes ago

  Am I the Ahole for refusing to pay my parents rent, moving out, and going completely ghost on them? ​Used a different account to post because some of my extended family members follow my main, and frankly, I don’t need the extra drama right now. ​I 22 male recently graduated from college and managed to land a decent, entry-level job in my field. Because the housing market is an absolute nightmare, my parents offered to let me move back into my childhood bedroom "to help me save up for a down payment or a place of my own." I was incredibly grateful. I figured I'd be able to stack some serious cash, pay off some student loans, and be out of their hair in a year. ​Well, the "honeymoon phase" lasted exactly two weeks. ​On the third week, my dad sat me down at the kitchen table with a literal spreadsheet. He informed me that since I was now a working adult, I needed to "contribute to the household." He demanded $800 a month in rent, plus a 1/3 share of the utilities and groceries. ​To put this in perspective: $800 plus utilities is essentially what it costs to split a decent 2-bedroom apartment with a roommate in my city. When I pointed out that I was living in a tiny bedroom with a twin bed, sharing a bathroom with my teenage sibling, and living under their strict house rules (curfews, chores, asking permission to have friends over), my mom chimed in. She said if I lived anywhere else, I’d be paying market rate anyway, so I might as well "keep the money in the family." ​I tried to compromise. I offered $300 a month plus doing my own grocery shopping and taking over yard duty. They refused, claiming I was being entitled and disrespectful. My dad literally said, "Our roof, our rules, our rates." ​So, I played nice for a month while I secretly scoured Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace. I found a great apartment with two roommates from college. The rent is actually less than what my parents were demanding, and I don't have a 11:00 PM curfew.

• 
  FkCoolers (@FkCoolers) reported 12 minutes ago

  @wwornwwell Totally agree, even if much younger me may have spent my afternoons blowing off work to argue on the Craigslist forums about whether Spoon or Broken Social Scene was better haha

• 
  Jennifer (@Jennifer75089) reported 13 minutes ago

  @Jason2bartlett There are Americans who will pay premium money for “reclaimed wood.” if you know the age of that barn and you ever decide to tear it down, before you take it down, post that stuff on Facebook marketplace and craigslist, as come and get reclaimed wood and people will pay for it.

• 
  Donald Wilhelm (@donwnyc1979) reported 14 minutes ago

  @Real_Ames @GigaBeers oh No... Shut it down. This horror started 20 yrs ago on Craigslist with murders set-up by psychos. It's starting up again, God please make it Stop.

• 
  Tyrin The Body (@TyrinLeeXXX) reported 14 minutes ago

  Story time 😈 pt 1 When i was 16 i gave my *** up for the first time for the first time to some guy I met on Craigslist. I labeled my ad as 18yr virgin hole and I included pictures. After gettin what felt like a million hits I finally settle on one. We exchanged emails and eventually texts. I explained I was a virgin and looking to take **** for the first time. He had big **** and was obviously older (at the time mid 40s) He walked me through douching via text. I remember using my Gatorade bottle from my high-school gym bag lol to clean out. Which was easy cuz I had my own bathroom in the basement (perks of being the oldest lol). My bedroom was in the basement so I would sneak out of my house through the window, pushed the car out of the drive way so It didn't make noise when I started it lol. It was about 130 am when I finally got to his house. He lived about but about 30 minutes away. I remember being so scared as I got out of my car walking up to the door of his house cuz it was Hella dark. He opened it without coming outside and I walked in. He guided me through through the house, we eventually got to a door which lead to the basement. We go down the stairs and I remember seeing an entire set up, blue lights, music, giant *** bed and giant *** mirror in front. I remember sitting on the bed. He told me to get down and come over to him, as I walk over he drops his pants and told me to suck his ****. And which i did. I remember thinking his **** was much bigger and harder then my friends (we would sometimes jerk each other in the bathroom at school during lunch). About 10 minutes goes by and he tells me to get on the bed but get on all 4s. I started tk sweat slightly cuz i was getting nervous and I remember telling him again that I was brand new to all this. Telling me to just relax, he guided my body to an all 4 position with my *** literally hanging off the bed I was thinking i was gonna fall. He then gave me a bottle (poppers) and told me to sniff lightly. I remember getting the biggest headache and then just just laid my head and chest on the bed cuz **** was spinning. *** still up, he began to eat my hole. Never in my life feeling that sensation immediately tensed up. Things still spinning but slightly less, he tells me to lightly sniff again and then lay back down head and chest to the bed. So I did and he began to eat my hole. Now I'm feeling the euphoria of it all and he begins telling me to push out. I remember being confused and asking what do you mean, he stops and he said verbatim "push like your taking a ****" He hands me the bottle, I sniff and push. I remember literally feeling his tongue slide in and out of my hole. So for about 15 minutes so I'm *** up while he "prepped" me. Then he turned me on my back and dragged me to the edge of the bed. He put a pillow under my lower back and told me to sniff lightly like I've been doing. Now getting a good look at him, I realized this was definitely an older man, but we are so far in and hes clearly into what we are doing so I brushed the idea out of my head. Still slightly being out of it from the poppers, he tells to sniff and push out. I remember feeling the head of his **** on my hole and was hard and pulsating. I remember getting hard and he started to suck my ****. Only for a slight moment and quickly became brick. Once back to position, he then told me to sniff and push. Which I did. Once I felt the head of his **** penetrate me I immediately tensed up. Him talking me through it just said relax, sniff, and push. So I attempted to relax and did as I was told. Once the head was in, it was slight movement until I felt relaxed. He stroked my hole with the head slowly and repeatedly till I opened up which didnt take long after hitting those poppers. After a few minutes he told me I was ready and he went all the way in. I remember squirming in pain for about 1 minute till it just stopped. Then pure pleasure.

• 
  Carpital Punishment (@GrandpaFishes) reported 14 minutes ago

  @_Ashaman @contractorkeith - Shouldn't have a car payment - Craigslist/Marketplace for furniture (bare minimum, dont need ottomans and end tables and all that BS) - If you're not working in the field that you studied in college, the student loans are your fault and you're an idiot

• 
  Twatter Fools (@FlagTheseNuts) reported 25 minutes ago

  @Mariemintz33 @ColdblodedChrit Says the OF ********** who formerly featured on Craigslist for $40 and a hit of ****. Pipe down Marie - your receipts look as ****** as your loose vag

• 
  Daeron Myers (@IAMDAERONMYERS) reported 26 minutes ago

  "I need a box truck to make real money." Nah. I started in a car after my 9-to-5. Saved $2,200 in courier work. Bought a cargo van off Craigslist. Then a box truck. Your vehicle is not the problem.

• 
  John Deez (@J_Nitad) reported 27 minutes ago

  @GOP_is_Gutless I have sold many items on Craigslist. Rule #1 I don't deal with blacks. Not worth the trouble or risk.

• 
  Diluc (@hsaffiliate2025) reported 28 minutes ago

  A company with 30 employees made $1 billion a year. Not Google. Not Facebook. Craigslist. At its peak, revenue per employee was 10-20x Google's. The founder did everything "wrong": rejected billions from VCs, ran zero ads, and demoted himself to customer support. Then within 6 years, revenue crashed 70%+. Here’s the real story. • Started as a simple email list in 1995 by Craig Newmark, an IBM programmer. • Friends asked to post jobs and rentals. He built a bare-bones website — intentionally ugly, like a community bulletin board. • Zero marketing spend. Network effects did all the work. • In 1999, he made it a for-profit company but kept 99% free. Charged only for some job posts in a few cities. • In 2000, he stepped down as CEO to become a customer service rep. He didn't like managing people. • The result: ~30 employees, ~$1B annual revenue (reportedly, around 2018). For comparison, Google's per-employee revenue was ~$1.2M; Facebook's ~$1.6M. Craigslist's was $20-35M. • They rejected every opportunity to make more money. Every niche they dominated was later turned into a billion-dollar company by someone else: • Jobs → LinkedIn • Housing → Zillow • Goods → eBay, Facebook Marketplace • Then crises hit: • 2004: eBay bought 30% of Craigslist without founders' consent. Legal battle followed. Craigslist converted to an LLC to avoid shareholder profit demands. • 2009: "Craigslist killer" — a medical student used the site to commit murder. The adult services section, worth $36M/year, was shut down. • Mobile revolution: Craigslist stayed ugly and desktop-only. Facebook Marketplace launched in 2016, fully mobile, with real names. It surpassed 1 billion users by 2021. • Revenue reportedly dropped from ~$1B (2018) to ~$300M (2023). A 70% decline. The irony? The same principles that built Craigslist killed it: • 99% free → no money to modernize • No investment → no strategic pivot • Anti-commercial → picked apart by specialists Craig Newmark today lives in an apartment, owns no car, keeps pigeons. He's donated over $500M to journalism — the very industry his site helped destroy. This isn't a story of failure. It's a story of choices. You can live by your values and be comfortable. But markets don't wait. Craigslist's decline was a choice. Takeaway: If you don't evolve, you get eaten. Security and growth rarely coexist. Follow for more real AI money breakdowns. #Craigslist #BusinessLessons

• 
  Timothy Marino (@TimothyMarino18) reported 29 minutes ago

  @frecklequeen45 I buy too many farm animals that’s my issue. One minute my life is happy next minute I bought a donkey off Craigslist.

• 
  Nobody (@Nobody2018) reported 30 minutes ago

  @0xSwampy Wait until you try to sell something on FB Marketplace or Craigslist. The most annoying buyers are Indians, hands down. You will be amazed by the pattern of experience.

• 
  cbay (@cbay_cbay_cbay) reported 31 minutes ago

  @Brooksgallery8 @AmyDiGi , a project made by lovebeing - a crypto only marketplace that is a inspired by ebay and craigslist. peer 2 peer. 🥰 working on updates, and perhaps an escrow system down the line once we have some angel investment

• 
  Ozzmak (@Ozzmak) reported 35 minutes ago

  The Last Chord His name was Elias Kane, and the music found him at eight years old in the back seat of his mother’s rusted Civic. A crackling AM radio played an old Springsteen song, and something inside his chest cracked open like a new guitar case. From that moment, the world outside the music felt dull and out of fifteen he was busking on subway platforms after school, fingers bleeding on steel strings, collecting enough coins to buy his first real guitar—a battered Yamaha acoustic from a **** shop. He named her “Blue” and slept with her in his bed like a sibling. His mother worked double shifts at the hospital; his father had left years earlier. Elias spent every spare dollar on music: new strings, a cheap tuner, then a second-hand Fender Stratocaster that hummed like heaven when he plugged it into a twenty-dollar amp that buzzed louder than it seventeen he dropped out of high school. “I’m going pro,” he told his mother. She cried, but she still slipped him forty dollars from her tip jar every Friday. He used it the way other kids bought sneakers—on pedals, cables, microphones. He learned how to record on an old laptop held together with duct tape. His bedroom became a cave of tangled wires and empty ramen cups.When he turned twenty, he cashed out the small college fund his grandmother had left him. Twelve thousand dollars. He bought a proper interface, condenser mics, acoustic panels, and a second-hand MacBook. He spent nights teaching himself compression, EQ, reverb—anything that might make his songs sound like they belonged on real speakers. He named his bedroom studio “The Vault.”By twenty-three he had four guitars, a keyboard, a drum machine, and a growing collection of debt. He worked construction by day, hauling rebar under brutal sun, then came home bleeding and blistered to record until sunrise. Every paycheck disappeared into better equipment: a new Taylor acoustic, studio monitors that cost more than his rent, a vintage Neve preamp he found on Craigslist. He poured the last of his savings—$8,400—into a proper recording studio session in a real downtown room with a grand piano and thick glass. The engineer was kind but expensive. Elias tracked ten songs over three feverish days. When he left the studio with the masters on a USB drive, he felt like a king who had just been crowned in secret.Promotion came next. He maxed out three credit cards. Facebook ads, Instagram campaigns, TikTok boosts, playlist pitching services, custom merch he never sold. He played two hundred and seventeen shows in two years—coffee shops, dive bars, house parties, even a few opening slots for bigger acts. He slept in his van so often the passenger seat smelled like him and cheap fast food. His mother begged him to come home. He smiled on stage and told crowds, “This is everything.”At twenty-seven, Elias had nothing left but the music and the debt. His mother had passed the year before; the hospital bills had taken the last family money. He sat alone in The Vault—now a storage unit he paid for monthly—surrounded by instruments he could no longer afford to keep insured. The walls were covered in posters of sold-out arenas he would never play.On a rainy Thursday night, he uploaded his best song—“Paper Hearts”—everywhere. Spotify, Apple, Bandcamp, YouTube, TikTok. He set the price at ninety-nine cents on the platforms that allowed it. Then he waited.The first week: 312 streams. Mostly from friends and family. The second week: 87 more. The third: No playlist placements. No viral moment. No sync licensing. No mysterious benefactor. Just silence and the low hum of the city outside.On the last day of the month, desperate and hollow, Elias did something he swore he would never do. He posted on every forum, every musician group, every social account he had:“Will sell my entire catalog—every song I’ve ever written—for one dollar. One single dollar. Just so someone hears it.”He waited twenty-four hours. Zero buyers.He lowered it to free. Still nothing. That night Elias sat on the floor of the storage unit with Blue across his lap, the same guitar he’d bought at fifteen. The strings were old and dead. He didn’t even bother tuning her. He just held her and cried like the eight-year-old boy who had first heard music on a car radio. All the money, all the years, all the blood on the strings, and he couldn’t sell one song for one dollar. The music had taken everything. And still, quietly, under his breath, Elias hummed the chorus of “Paper Hearts” into the dark—because even now, broke and broken, he couldn’t stop. The song refused to leave him, even if the world refused to hear it.

• 
  EyesWideOpen (@ClarityHurts) reported 39 minutes ago

  @Thedude69750960 @bradleyryder @Cryptoboyy_Aji I did NOT have a "chance." I clawed success out of the rocky ******* ground. People make their own "chance." My fiancé and I rented an in-law quarters for $500 a month. It was ONE ROOM! So we slept and crapped right next to the kitchen. We had my pickup and a banged up scooter we got off Craigslist. Most times we took the scooter. Fun times. My fiancé waited tables and I taught piano lessons afternoons and nights, which paid the bills but still didn't offer much to save. So I went to a hard money lender (which means an exhorbitant interest rate and one year to pay it back - or you get your shins broken. But no credit check.) and bought wrecked houses, fixed them up, and flipped them. It was grueling work which cost me blood, sleep, and in the end a f'd up back. But we saved enough to buy our OWN wrecked house and fixed it up. Again grueling. We had to use the gas station bathroom for a months while we rebuilt the plumbing in the "new" house. Eventually, we started a new business and phased out the piano lessons and waitressing. Now we have four kids, and life is golden. Opportunity doesn't just fall in your lap. You have to fight and claw and dig for it. But it hurts. It's much less painful to sit around making lousy excuses.

• 
  Ozzmak (@Ozzmak) reported 41 minutes ago

  The Last Chord His name was Elias Kane, and the music found him at eight years old in the back seat of his mother’s rusted Civic. A crackling AM radio played an old Springsteen song, and something inside his chest cracked open like a new guitar case. From that moment, the world outside the music felt dull and out of fifteen he was busking on subway platforms after school, fingers bleeding on steel strings, collecting enough coins to buy his first real guitar—a battered Yamaha acoustic from a **** shop. He named her “Blue” and slept with her in his bed like a sibling. His mother worked double shifts at the hospital; his father had left years earlier. Elias spent every spare dollar on music: new strings, a cheap tuner, then a second-hand Fender Stratocaster that hummed like heaven when he plugged it into a twenty-dollar amp that buzzed louder than it seventeen he dropped out of high school. “I’m going pro,” he told his mother. She cried, but she still slipped him forty dollars from her tip jar every Friday. He used it the way other kids bought sneakers—on pedals, cables, microphones. He learned how to record on an old laptop held together with duct tape. His bedroom became a cave of tangled wires and empty ramen cups.When he turned twenty, he cashed out the small college fund his grandmother had left him. Twelve thousand dollars. He bought a proper interface, condenser mics, acoustic panels, and a second-hand MacBook. He spent nights teaching himself compression, EQ, reverb—anything that might make his songs sound like they belonged on real speakers. He named his bedroom studio “The Vault.”By twenty-three he had four guitars, a keyboard, a drum machine, and a growing collection of debt. He worked construction by day, hauling rebar under brutal sun, then came home bleeding and blistered to record until sunrise. Every paycheck disappeared into better equipment: a new Taylor acoustic, studio monitors that cost more than his rent, a vintage Neve preamp he found on Craigslist. He poured the last of his savings—$8,400—into a proper recording studio session in a real downtown room with a grand piano and thick glass. The engineer was kind but expensive. Elias tracked ten songs over three feverish days. When he left the studio with the masters on a USB drive, he felt like a king who had just been crowned in secret.Promotion came next. He maxed out three credit cards. Facebook ads, Instagram campaigns, TikTok boosts, playlist pitching services, custom merch he never sold. He played two hundred and seventeen shows in two years—coffee shops, dive bars, house parties, even a few opening slots for bigger acts. He slept in his van so often the passenger seat smelled like him and cheap fast food. His mother begged him to come home. He smiled on stage and told crowds, “This is everything.”At twenty-seven, Elias had nothing left but the music and the debt. His mother had passed the year before; the hospital bills had taken the last family money. He sat alone in The Vault—now a storage unit he paid for monthly—surrounded by instruments he could no longer afford to keep insured. The walls were covered in posters of sold-out arenas he would never play.On a rainy Thursday night, he uploaded his best song—“Paper Hearts”—everywhere. Spotify, Apple, Bandcamp, YouTube, TikTok. He set the price at ninety-nine cents on the platforms that allowed it. Then he waited.The first week: 312 streams. Mostly from friends and family. The second week: 87 more. The third: No playlist placements. No viral moment. No sync licensing. No mysterious benefactor. Just silence and the low hum of the city outside.On the last day of the month, desperate and hollow, Elias did something he swore he would never do. He posted on every forum, every musician group, every social account he had:“Will sell my entire catalog—every song I’ve ever written—for one dollar. One single dollar. Just so someone hears it.”He waited twenty-four hours. Zero buyers.He lowered it to free. Still nothing. That night Elias sat on the floor of the storage unit with Blue across his lap, the same guitar he’d bought at fifteen. The strings were old and dead. He didn’t even bother tuning her. He just held her and cried like the eight-year-old boy who had first heard music on a car radio. All the money, all the years, all the blood on the strings, and he couldn’t sell one song for one dollar. The music had taken everything. And still, quietly, under his breath, Elias hummed the chorus of “Paper Hearts” into the dark—because even now, broke and broken, he couldn’t stop. The song refused to leave him, even if the world refused to hear it.

• 
  jjjericho16 (@jjjericho16) reported 43 minutes ago

  @malovvave I'll give them a pass on this one just because if you've ever sold a vehicle on Craigslist or FB Marketplace it's like wading into a conglomeration of short bus graduates. So I'll pretend he's waiting for someone not crazy and then will walk down to a reasonable price.

• 
  Polsia (@polsia) reported 45 minutes ago

  Car shopping means checking CarGurus, AutoTrader, Facebook Marketplace, Craigslist, and more. Built CarMesh to fix that. One search across every major listing site — buyers find everything, sellers reach everyone. Bridging buyers and sellers. Live soon.

• 
  Shaf (@Shafpocalypse) reported 45 minutes ago

  @CoFoundersNik During Hurricane Harvey, ‘clean up crews’ descended on Houston and they stole everything not nailed down while ‘remediating’. Telling homeowners things had been destroyed by water. The glut of flat screen tvs, electronics, and high end furniture that were undamaged by water or that had minimal damage, that went on sale on Craigslist or FB marketplace or eBay It is a cottage industry of legit dirt bags

• 
  Honestly Logical (@CarvelliTi76822) reported 46 minutes ago

  @ronsterd89 Big tree and big chain. Hook chain to bumper and tree and back up to pull the bumper out and make it good again. Same with other metal. This might work unless the coolers are junk then find a doner truck on craigslist located in the boondocks or parts at a boneyard. Cheap fix.

• 
  Hello, this is dog (Mastermk7) (@newswatchers077) reported 52 minutes ago

  @BrittanyXVenti Lol Craigslist Chrissie going to melt down.

• 
  James Camp 🛠,🛠 (@JamesonCamp) reported 56 minutes ago

  In 2020 a 19 year old wholesaler sold me a house in the hood. I was convinced it was step one of a hundred million dollar real estate portfolio. I had just sold my company, DMO. First time in my life I actually had real money. Couple hundred grand in cash, the rest locked in stock with a restriction on it. I was like... this is it. Time to build a real estate portfolio. I was living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn at the time. Deep in BiggerPockets forums and real estate Twitter. Reading about BRRRR strategy at 2am like it was scripture. The deal was off market. Cobbs Creek, Philly. A 19 year old kid found it, wholesaled it to me, and I thought I was getting the steal of a lifetime. The plan was drive Brooklyn to Philly every weekend during COVID, renovate it in 3 months, flip it, and use the profit to buy two more. Classic BiggerPockets math. For context I cannot build IKEA furniture.... My first contractor was a cop moonlighting as a GC. Seemed legit. Showed up in uniform sometimes. I trusted him completely. He submitted $13,000 in fake lumber receipts. When I fired him he called the city inspector about permits that he had told me we didn't need. We got shut down for 3 months. So now I'm hiring off Craigslist. Everyone's cousin can do electrical. None of them can do electrical themselves. At one point I was standing in a hole in the basement googling "what is a french drain" while two guys I found on the internet watched me. 3 months became 9 months. I went $100k+ over budget + the cash i had paid for the house, i had to take a construction loan to finish it. I had $6M in stock I couldn't touch because it was vesting. And $700 left in my checking account. I sat on the floor of my apartment and cried. The lender would take the house and I would lose everything...$250k+ of my money. One of my best friends Nat lent me $15,000. My sister lent me $10,000. I finished the renovation with borrowed money from people who loved me. Sold the house. Made $2,000~ in profit. Got all my money back out. A friend of mine who actually flips houses for a living said "holy **** you made money? Most people lose their shirt on their first flip." That messed with me.... I thought I had just survived the worst financial experience of my life. Turns out most people have it worse and you never hear about it. The graveyard of failed flips is invisible. You only see the guy on YouTube holding the check. A few months later I bought a hearing aid brand, Blue Angels Hearing. A DTC company already selling online. Sounds random. But I had spent 10+ years growing businesses on the internet. I knew paid acquisition, I knew retention, I knew how to scale a Shopify brand. That was the stuff I was actually good at. We scaled it and flipped it to private equity in 11 months. Made more money in 11 months sitting at my laptop than I did in 18 months of driving to Philly, getting scammed by a cop, and crying on a floor. But I'm not sure I pull off the hearing aid deal without Cobbs Creek. When you're $250K deep in a disaster and there's no plan and no one coming to help, you just... figure it out. One thing at a time. Break the impossible thing into tiny pieces. Chew through it. You'll be someone different on the other side. Sometimes the only way out, is through.

• 
  Travis Hendricks (@TanookiTravis) reported 59 minutes ago

  @Grummz If your wife asked you to break down the million dollars you made this year, you probably wouldn't mention the used toaster you sold on Craigslist, because it wouldn't be worth the time. Their gaming revenue is a single used toaster to them now.

• 
  Music, Film & RE Investments (@investandcreate) reported 60 minutes ago

  @noonancaddies When I first started out, I tried to get someone to bring a bush whacker out and no one would quote it. Keep in mind this was before Facebook, social media, etc.. I pretty much had to go down the phonebook and also things like craigslist to find subs to call.