the middle finger project

TMFBOMB: How to Be Taken Seriously Online in Exactly Four Minutes, 27 Seconds

Ash — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 20:29:56 +0000

Yo.

It’s Ash.

I’m not going to beat around the bush: I’ve decided to do something new, and I’m calling it a TMFBOMB.

It’ll be a new on-the-fly video series taken from my iPhone in the heat of the moment – whenever that may be – related to stupid shit I see in biz + marketing…and what I really think.

They’ll be quick. They’ll be direct. They’ll be point blank. They’ll be profane. They’ll be raw and unedited. But most of all, I think they’ll be useful, because there’s not going to be any BS.

The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me tequila.

I don’t want to waste anyone’s time here, so let’s go. Here’s the first one that I just made right now.

Click the link and subscribe to my YouTube channel if you want updates on these.

Happy weekend!

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

Is This Simple Thing Preventing You From Getting More Clients?

Ash — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 18:31:27 +0000

So once upon a time I dated a guy with lots of tattoos who worshipped his mom.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

That has nothing to do with the story.

Rewind. Back up.

Let’s start again.

*clears throat*

Once upon a time, my official job title was “Director of Business Development.”

There. That’s better. Right story.

As Director of Business Development, I flaunted my ass all over Philadelphia, flashing biz cards left and right with that ridiculously long title printed all over ‘em, thinkin’ I was real hot shit.

Director of Business Development. Ooohhhh. Sounds importanttttt.

So do me a favor. For those of you who have never been in marketing or sales, tell me something: Would you have any fucking idea what I did on a daily basis?

Clearly, you were developing business, Ash.

Yeah, yeah.

But in normal, everyday terms, what did I do for a living?

Do you know?

Here. Let me help.

What I did for a living rhymed with male schlepp. Peppermint pep. Yeah-baby-let-me-see-your-one-two step.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen of the jury.

I was a sales rep.

Now time out. Put that story in your pocket for a minute. We’re moving on.

Now let’s play a little game.

What do all of the following terms + phrases have in common?

Distill your brand
Create a vision
Provide solutions
Social media strategy
Life coaching
It’s not you, it’s me

Did you happen to guess…………. AMBIGUOUS BULLSHIT?

Whoo!

Bravo!

Very good, grasshoppa’!

Ambiguous bullshit for 2500, Alex!

Now wait.

Before you get your cute little polka dotted panties in a bunch, that’s not to say that I think any of those things ARE bullshit. (Life coachers – I love you – but pay attention.)

In fact, the things I listed aren’t bullshit at all. (Except maybe the whole “it’s not you it’s me” thing. I’ve used this tons of times and–trust me–it’s ALWAYS them.)

The problem, however, is that they all SOUND like bullshit.

Ding, ding, ding.

I’d like to solve the puzzle, pat!

(Oh, wait. I just did. Fuck.)

So, how do these two ridiculous stories tie together?

You’re probably onto me already. Keep the change, you filthy animal.

Sorry. I must be channeling my inner television goddess thanks to my upcoming One Night Stand with Stacey Parks, my favorite TV + film producer.

Anyway.

They relate because today we’re talking about abstract concepts in business–and how they’re preventing you from making money.

Too often, I see service providers using all sorts of fancy terminology to describe their services and the benefits of those services–possibly in an effort to seem expert, possibly because they’re too wrapped up in their own heads, and possibly because they don’t know better. But reasoning aside, fancy terminology can sometimes have the opposite effect of what you’re hoping for, resulting in less sales rather than more.

In other, more eloquent words: At the end of the day, you’ll be lucky if you have a pot to piss in.

Because while you’re busy scratching your ass trying to appear capable, your prospective clients and customers are sitting there scratching their asses wondering what the fuck you’re talking about.

And guess what? They aren’t going to wonder long.

If they don’t understand what, exactly, you’re selling them…then guess what? You ain’t gonna sell ‘em.

That’s right. I just used the word “ain’t.”

When people don’t clearly understand what they’re buying…they don’t buy.

It’d be like me trying to sell you a large box of injection-molded plastic containing precision-made glass, fluorescent chemical coatings, and silicon chips for $599.

Your face would twist up in some kind of unattractive contortion like you just ate a Sour Patch Kid, and you’d be all, “Hell no. Idiot.”

And I’d be all, “Fine.”

And you’d be all, “I don’t even know what any of that stuff is.”

And I’d be all, “I think the commoners call it something like a TV.”

And you’d be all, “A TV! Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?!”

And I’d be all, “Because I was trying to make it sound impressive and worth $599!”

Get my drift?

So what’s a biz person to do?

It’s not about dumbing it down for your target market; it’s about finding a universal language that your target market speaks.

Sometimes, you may need to use fancy industry jargon, but if that’s the case, do everyone a favor and break it on down in terms that everyone understands. Remember: If I don’t understand it, I don’t want to buy it.

If you’re a photographer, for example, don’t try and sell me on the fact that you use some hoighty toighty lens . Sell me on what the lens does in a way that I can relate to, and therefore, care about. (And care about enough to spend my money on.)

It’s about taking abstract concepts–defined as such in the mind of your MARKET, not in YOURS–and making them more concrete. Making them tangible. Making them relatable.

Which means you need to spend some a good amount of time understanding who your market is, dawg. Not how fucking old they are, but who they REALLY ARE. There’s a difference.

To hammer the point home, check out these two ads I saw in a magazine I was reading this morning:

In the first ad for Kashi, their ad people are some clever bastards.

They could have just said: “With a whopping 9-13 grams of protein per bowl!” (Which is what it really is according to their nutrition facts.)

The problem with that?

Nobody gives a shit. Because you and I can’t tangibly envision 9-13 grams of protein. It isn’t concrete for us. It’s too abstract. So therefore, it becomes a moot selling point.

However, position it the way Kashi did, and tell me that there’s as much protein in an egg, now found in a bowl?

THAT’S something I can immediately grasp. That’s something I’m into, because everybody knows that eggs have lots of protein. I can picture an egg. And maybe I’m sick of eating eggs. So when you tell me there’s as much protein in this bowl of Kashi as there is in an egg, I make the connection in my mind and it DOES become a very legitimate selling point.

Score 1 for Kashi.

Then on the other hand, we’ve got good old Olay.

Olay Body Care: Every bottle has more than a jar of Olay moisturizers.

Oh yeah! Now you’re speakin’ my language!

They could have just said: “Contains twice the amount of moisturizer than other leading body washes.” (Which is also true–taken from their site.)

But, again, the problem with that is that it isn’t so concrete for me. Well how much moisturizer is in other leading body washes? Is twice the amount a substantial difference, or is it marginal? It’s not a good point of comparison.

However, if you tell me that it contains an entire jar of moisturizer, that’s something I can relate to. That’s something tangible for me. And that’s something that I can instantly say, “Hell yes!” to.

Score 1, Olay.

So you see my point.

This was a long ass blog post, but the concepts are all related here – less tangible, less sales. More tangible, more sales.

I guess I could have just said that from the beginning. But then I wouldn’t have been able to mix in all of those random TV references, and clearly the world would be worse off.

So think of my long-windiness as a good deed of sorts.

And do me a favor: The next time some guy or girl tells you that it’s not you, it’s them?

Send ‘em this post.

And then tell ‘em you’d be way more likely to buy their bag of horseshit…if they could kindly put that in more concrete terms for you.

***************************************************************************

Want to learn more about getting more clients? I’ve got your back.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

Don’t Stand Out – Stand the Fuck Up.

Ash — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 16:11:10 +0000

So.

If you recall, in the last post, I made up a ridiculous scenario where you were headed to your fake neighbor’s house for dinner, whose guts you may or may not have secretly hated.

She was serving you quiche, at which point you made a face that slightly resembled this—> ?!?!?!?!!!!!.

As a result, you hesitatingly asked her to pass the salt.

And then…we stopped the post there, leaving you with the question of…what does this have to do with anything?

To which my response was: “Everything.”

So, what does this have to do with anything?

And of course, I’ll be answering that question with another question, which is this:

When your annoying neighbor was hypothetically passing you the salt, would you have thought twice about which brand of salt it was?

Question mark.

Wouldja?

I’m going to put the words right into your mouth and respond with, “Probably not, matey.” (Don’t ever let me put words into your mouth. Pirate slang will always ensue.)

Definitely not.

You just would have taken the salt and irrigated your quiche with it.

Like anyone would.

Because folks just don’t question what type of salt is in the salt shaker – they just ask for “the salt.” Plain and simple.

And the reason for that is because salt’s considered a commodity.

Ooohhh, fancy word. Commodity.

If you’re not familiar with the term commodity, it’s defined as something that’s needed, but for which there’s really no differentiation across the market. In other words, there aren’t preferred brands of salt, generally speaking.

Salt’s pretty much salt. Take it. Lick it. Shower your food with it. Slop it all over the rim of your margarita. Toss it all over an icy sidewalk. Ship it to folks in Alaska to toss all over their icy sidewalks. Slay a slug with it for all I care.

You get the point. Salt is salt. It gets the job done.

As such, you’d probably never think to ask your host what type of salt she’s using.

Again, because salt’s a commodity.

Which brings me to the real point.

Too often, brilliant business owners (that’s you) accidentally treat their businesses, services and products the same damn way–as if they were an every day commodity.

When, in fact, there’s absolutely nothing “everyday” about you, your business, your service or products.

Far from it!

But you just might not have been sure how to communicate that.

However, the problem with that becomes this:

When you don’t give your prospective clients a reason to pick you over the next guy…guess what? They won’t.

Because as far as they can tell, you’re just another salt shaker / life coach / web designer / photographer / copywriter / etc.

And all that matters to them is that the job gets done. Just like all that matters to you is that your quiche gets salted.

And THAT’S the moment when they start price shopping (eeekkkkk!)–because at that point, price is really the only differentiating factor.

And competing on price will be the death of your small business.

Your job?

Give ‘em a reason.

Give ‘em a reason to pick you.

Give ‘em a reason to become your number one fan.

You aren’t a helpless pawn in your industry.

You’re a god damn genius.

Now it’s time to ACT LIKE IT.

The way you do that has a lot less to do with what you + your business does…and a lot more to do with how you + your business do it. Sear that into your brain. I don’t care that you’re a web designer (what you do)…but I do care about how you make me feel. And the only way you can legitimately make me feel anything, is to be strong enough to step up to the plate with your business–and your brand’s–personality.

It’s about the way you do something.

It’s about the experience.

It’s up to you to evoke emotion, so you can help your customers FEEL SOMETHING, and, by extension, CONNECT WITH YOU. And when they connect with you, they’ll feel like they BELONG WITH YOU. Humans like to think of themselves as special and different from one another–this is precisely why evoking a brand experience matters, and this is why it affects your bottom line.

Don’t stand out. Stand the fuck up. And watch ‘em stand up with you.

Only then, once they feel like they belong with you, does the sales process even start–whether you knew it or not.

So–what can you do to make them feel something? What can you do to evoke an experience for them?

Important to consider.

Because…

…you aren’t the salt.

You’re the shit.

Now get out there and prove it.

*************************************************************************************

On Another Note:

1. Wanted to share this feedback on our Clients + Cash program (teaching you how to get more clients) that was posted to the TMFproject Facebook wall last night, in the event you’re finding yourself in the same situation:

2. During the month of February, I’m going to be one hell of a busy bee with the One Night Stand consulting/copywriting sessions, which have been going fantastically well. If you need to reach me, best bet is Twitter or Facebook!

We scrapped the old booking calendar and implemented a new one, so if you were interested in signing up, you can do so easily by clicking here, selecting your date, and completing the process. We moved some things around, so there are now a couple of slots available at the end of February, but other than that, we’re into March, baby.

3. Last but not least: Roses are red, violets are blue, the world’s about to end, because I JUST BOUGHT AN iPHONE, TOO.

THE END!

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

Ash — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 20:06:16 +0000

Yesterday I said I’d continue this story today.

I lied.

It’ll be continued on Monday.

I have a hot n’ heavy One Night Stand session coming up this evening, and I’m on a roll over here, brewin’ + stewin’ on ways that we’re going to brand, market + creatively rocket sales through the roof off of today’s client’s business. (An interior design firm!)

By the way, I’m thrilled that the One Night Stand sessions have been such a hit!

Mostly booked up through February, but *do* have a few additional spots open that aren’t on the booking calendar:

Next Thursday, February 2nd, from 1:30-8pm EST
Wednesday, February 8th, from 4:30pm – 11pm EST
Thursday, February 9th, from 1:30pm – 8pm EST
Thursday, February 23rd, from 1:30pm – 8pm EST

[Update: These slots are now filled! Click here to book your day on the One Night Stand calendar for the last week in February, or into March.]

Want to read more about what the hell these One Night Stands are?

Click here to find out the juicy gossip.

That said, I’m back to stewin’.

Good day.

Good bye.

Wear your seatbelt. (Shout out to Ian, who tells me this every day. It has now stuck. Damn.)

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

A Scenario You Should Pay Attention To

Ash — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 19:55:29 +0000

So let’s say your annoying neighbor invites you over for dinner.

Huge bitch.

But you decide to go, anyway, because you don’t want to feel like an asshole every time you see her backing her brand new Lexus out of the driveway at the same exact time you and your ’98 Toyota are pulling out. Which, conveniently, happens way more than you’d like.

On the night of THE DINNER, you head over with a bottle of wine–secretly hoping she spills it all over her stupid cream-colored silk blouse, so at the very least, you’ll be mildly entertained.

For dinner, the neighbor made some asparagus quiche nonsense, while you silently wonder how the fuck to spell quiche, and whether or not she’s going to ration your wine intake. Probably will. Yoga-practicing, flaxseed-worshipping whore.

Thank god you’re armed with an emergency flask.

So you’re chillin’ out with your plate full of quiche, when, after some time passes, you finally muster the guts to ask *the* question.

The one that could screw up everything.

The one that could ruin your neighborly good will forever.

The one that could mean a lifetime full of evil eyes and passive aggressive slights.

You decide to ask it any way.

Would you mind, um…would you mind passing….uh…..passing the salt?

You quickly look to gauge her reaction.

She stays calm.

Quiet.

Composed.

Proper.

And then silently, but obediently, through a clenched jaw, passes you the goods.

Whew.

That’s a relief.

At least you’ve saved her from the even more embarrassing event of having you VOMIT AT THE TABLE.

So what does this ridiculous scenario have to do with anything?

Everything.

You’ll find out tomorrow.

In the meantime, you should probably watch this music video. It has nothing to do with anything, and you won’t understand the lyrics, but you’ll get the point, and it’s a good one to get.

Good thing I never promised coherence.

Until tomorrow!

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

Sales Tip of The Year: Don’t Masturbate.

Ash — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 20:37:38 +0000

So since I’m in the United States for a hot minute, I have recently acquired a smart phone.

I have three things to say about this:

Apparently, I’m better at coding HTML than I am at texting. Considering I have no fucking idea how to code HTML, you can imagine what kind of interesting text conversations I’ve been having. Particularly when so-called “smart phone” decides to change my texts from, “We’ll be there soon” to “We’ll be there vomiting.” Obviously you aren’t as smart as you think you are, smart phone, because if you were, you’d know that the vomiting comes AFTER we leave, AFTER we drink the vodka.
-
HOW DO WE STILL NOT HAVE ANY DECENT RING TONES? Is there a token deaf guy somewhere developing these things? Is this his way to get back at the world for his misfortune? No, I don’t want to hear your grandmother’s gong, or feel like a fairy princess just pranced into the room, sprinkling pixie dust all over my fucking carpet. Good lord, I don’t even have a vacuum yet! I need to keep that shit clean!
-
I now am compelled to photograph and upload any and every single thing I see and think is stupid, consequently forcing anyone who wanted to be my Facebook friend…to really think twice about who they’re asking to become Facebook friends. Am I the only one who saw Winnie the Pooh’s Too Smart for Strangers? Here, let me help you with that.

Speaking of stupid things…

…there I was, pretending to be a well-educated, middle-class, nice young lady the other day while perusing Barnes & Noble, when I saw something that immediately fit my photograph-and-upload requirements:

See those smart phone photography skills at play?

If you’re as blind as me, chances are that you can’t read that introduction, so I’ve taken the liberty to pull the first couple of paragraphs for your reading delight:

“As the world falls deeper into economic downturns and armed conflicts, as communities become more heatedly partisan, and as many workplaces show growing signs of disengagement, issues of credibility remain front and central.

In this thoroughly revised and updated edition of their best selling book, Credibility, Jim Kouzes and Barry Posner explore why leadership is above all a relationship, with credibility as the cornerstone, and why leaders must “Say what you mean and mean what you say.” Building on their more than thirty years of ongoing research, Credibility expands on their seminal work The Leadership Challenge, and shows why credibility remains the foundation of great leadership.”

Etc.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnndddddd…..

*cue reader falling asleep and slamming head face first into bowl of Spaghetti O’s*

Ouch.

You see, I’m sure these James + Barry chaps are perfectly intelligent gentlemen.

Furthermore, I’m sure they’ve got some real substance to share. Actually, I think this book is incredibly worthwhile.

But let me ask you something.

Based on that description alone, how much did that book speak to you?

Did that description really stir your juices and make you think to yourself, “Well, now! This is exactly what I’ve been looking for! THIS is what I need!”

Probably not.

Because good ol’ James + Barry (or their copywriter) are having way more fun masturbating, than they are trying to show you how the book is actually relevant.

The topic itself holds a lot of promise, but the way it’s presented? Makes me want to slash some tires.

And that’s the thing.

This isn’t just about book jackets.

You might have the best product out there. You might offer the best service around. You might be the biggest, brightest badass to ever step foot on this humongous ball of rock.

But if the words you choose can’t communicate that…

…then it doesn’t really matter.

Because you won’t be given the opportunity to show it.

So, how to communicate more effectively through the written word?

Stop focusing on your achievements.

Stop focusing on your qualifications.

Stop talking about yourself.

And start trying to CONNECT.

The word “connect” seems overused and overplayed these days, and as such, comes off as superficial. However, that doesn’t mean that the concept itself is any less powerful.

Humans crave connection. Connection in all forms.

And that, right there, is precisely the key when it comes to developing non-icky sales pages + marketing materials (including your homepage!) that turn your customers on and make them feel uplifted…instead of the alternative.

Find what things/ideas/problems/topics–and most importantly, FEELINGS–resonate with them, and then work like a motherfucking dog to translate those thing/ideas/problems/topics/feelings into words that they can CONNECT WITH.

Do that right, and you won’t have to worry about your sales numbers this year.

Or having your customers slam their heads into hot bowls of Spaghetti O’s.

Thank god, because that shit would be awkward.

And now…

I’m off to go wash my mouth out with soap.

Except not really.

Because then I’d be forced to take a picture of it and upload to Facebook.

And with my luck, someone will text me right at that moment, causing that annoyingly optimistic fairy princess ringtone to sound, and then I’ll be the asshole getting electrocuted.

And then some app will launch where some deaf guy pops his head out of the damn phone, points at me, and laughs the entire time.

Go figure.

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

Let’s Have a One Night Stand. You + Your Business + Me. My Place. Don’t Be Late.

Ash — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 00:42:11 +0000

C’mere.

I think it’s time we got a little more intimate, don’t you?

Whatd’ya say to a one night stand?

Can you handle it?

How about you click on the video below? (If you’re reading this in your email, click here to view the video.)

What was that? Were you really just in your underwear?! One Night Stand?

A One Night Stand session involves you + your biz…and my marketing consultation + fiery copywriting prowess. Lacey panties optional.

I devised the One Night Stand sessions to be an intense, explosive, incandescent 6.5 hour online experience for those of you who need solid direction with your biz…and a little juicy, throw ‘em-against-the-wall seduction with your web copy….to really rev up sales + make your business GET NOTICED in 2012.

The One Night Stand is being offered both during the evening + daytime on varying days of the week. Tuesday + Wednesday sessions are held from 4:30-11pm EST, and Monday +Thursday sessions are held from 1:30pm – 8pm EST. (Note: Times flexible if desired.)

::: During our session, we’ll first bond for a half hour or so as human beings so I can really get a feel for who you are and what you do, before moving into a heavy-duty, no-holds barred consulting sesh around your business + business goals.

::: Then, we’ll wholeheartedly yell 1-2-3 TEAM! before breaking for a heart-pounding 3 hour block of time during which I write (or re-write) the copy for your website or marketing efforts, up to 5 sizzling pages, while you go take a bath. Or sip a chardonnay. Or play Wii tennis in your undies. Whatever it is that you do.

::: Then, once the 3 hour block of copywriting time is up, we’ll reconvene for happy hour (bourbon preferred!) to discuss the copy, solidify the 2012 plan for your business, cheers one another, and possibly chest bump via Skype.

::: Last but not least, then I’ll go back to my love cave for the evening, make any final revisions, send ‘em off to you…and follow up the next day to make sure all of our T’s are crossed, you’ve got your underwear, and you’re still just as jazzed as you were when you signed up. (You will be. Cross my heart and hope to die.)

This couldn’t be any more practical–or fun–and I personally guarantee it’ll be the best one night stand you’ve ever had. Not to mention the most profitable.

The Breakdown

4:30-5pm: Innocent Flirting : Getting to Know You
5pm-6pm: Intimate Discussion : Hour of Biz Consulting
6pm-9pm: Down + Dirty Sweat Sesh : 3 Hour Block of Copywriting on client’s behalf, up to 5 pieces (can include any copy needed…with a standard “page” defined as 300-400 words per page. Also can include other fun things like tagline brainstorming. Or email marketing campaigns. Or a letter to your boss telling him you quit, already.)
9pm-10pm: Nightcap + PillowTalk : Feedback/Further Discussion/Optional Tumbler of Bourbon
10pm-11pm: Long Kiss Goodbye : Final Revisions Made / Copy Sent to Client
Next Day: Oops, You Forgot Your Underwear : Email Check in, Additional Questions + Final Parting of Ways

(Times are in EST, Tues + Thursday evenings. Alternatively, session may be from 1:30pm to 8pm on Monday or Thursday, following same schedule.)

The Cost

$500. Start to finish. An entire One Night Stand. Including 6.5 hours of consulting + copywriting up to 5 pages. (For comparison, typical rates are $250 per page of copy.)

Why Are You Offering It This Way?

Because it’s fun as hell. And it’s the closest I could get to being a prostitute without actually being one. And because I suck at long-term coaching. Also, darts. Unrelated.

So…this is my way to get more involved with you on a level that you’ve requested time and time again, so we can come together and get our hands dirty for a night (or an afternoon, if that’s your style), and rev your business up…so you can throw down.

And I’m serious about the bourbon.

Is This For Me?

This is for you if you’re a solopreneur or small business owner looking to leverage the internet to more effectively (and inexpensively) market yourself…so you can hit your income goals and feel good about how you’re doing it.

Also, you recognize the critical importance of having copy that works – because you can’t be there to hold everyone’s hand, 24 hours a day. And by copy that works, we mean copy that sells. Copy that flirts unapologetically with your prospects’ desires. Copy that shows ‘em who’s boss. Copy that makes them wonder how the fuck they ever lived without you before. Copy that rips ‘em off the bench, shoves their face in the asphalt, and makes ‘em scream, “Uncle, you bitch!”

Copy that reflects your motherfucking inner genius–minus the profanity, of course. Copy that reflects your soul. Your passion. Your expertise. Your wit. Your authority. And the fact that–hey–you’re the one they’ve been looking for all along. Whether they knew it or not.

A One Night Stand session with me will get you crystal clear on the bullshit that you just don’t know how to approach, so we can grab your business by the BLEEP, take control, and make one hell of a year out of 2012.

So put on your best pair of underwear.

It’s time to get down and dirty.

How to Book

Step One: Click on this link to view the calendar and book the date that works best for you–either a Tues or Wednesday from 4:30pm-11pm, or a Monday or Thursday from 1:30pm to 8pm–your choice. If you need a flexible time, I recommend booking the appropriate day and then following up with an email to ash@themiddlefingerproject.org. [Note: To date, I'm pretty booked up throughout the month of February, but still have a couple of days available toward the end of February. Would love to jam with you this month! Also, you can, of course, reserve for March.]

Step Two: Submit payment as prompted.

Step Three: You’re booked! I’ll get the confirmation straight to me, and all bookings go straight into my personal calendar.

Step Four: Do your homework. Once you book, you’ll receive a confirmation message with a link to a pre-session questionnaire–download, fill ‘er out, and ship ‘er on back to me 72 hours before your session…and we’ll be ready to blow. the. roof. off. your. biz.

Ready?

Click here to get booked.

You know what I really wanted to say there, don’t you?

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

I Want You. Now.

Ash — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 22:20:58 +0000

…yeah, you.

Not so much in the, take-me-to-bed-tiger kind of way (that’s tomorrow. really. just wait.), but in a I-want-to-know-what-you-think kind of way.

Not about the ozone.

Or how much profanity I use.

Or the fact that I apparently suck at responding to emails. (Shhhhhhhhh. I’m getting better!)

I want to know what you think about…

*bongo roll*

…the evil…

…icky…

…topic…

…otherwise…

…known as…

SALES PAGES.

*cue all hell breaking loose*

*cue slow girl who loses shoe amongst chaos*

*cue someone to come bring me to mental ward for writing this kind of shit*

*cue Matthew McConaughey to come visit me in said mental hospital*

Anyway. Sales Pages.

I wanna know what you think of ‘em.

Let me tell you why.

The reason is based on the following email conversation that just transpired (republished with permission):

To which I responded:

To which she responded:

So my question is this -

What are your thoughts on what makes for a non-icky sales page?

They’re a necessity, if you want to communicate the need-to-know information, but…

What totally turns you off? (And makes you go Xing out the page at lightening speeds.)

What turns you on? (And makes you think, “Mmhmm, yessssssssss” while you twiddle your thumbs with anticipation, and lick your lips?

As a copywriter, this is something I’m constantly testing, as you might expect. With this site, I do some testing, too, but less formally. For example, with Clients + Cash, I went ahead and developed an official sales page (granted, using my signature style, of course), but for most of my other sales pages + launches that I do (like the one yesterday announcing 97 in ’11), I stick to a more informal style, because I want it to feel good for everyone involved–for me writing it, and for you reading it.

But what do YOU prefer?

What are your thoughts?

Which one of those two styles (linked above) do you prefer? Or do you prefer another altogether?

And if you have nothing to say on this topic, you can always leave a comment debating the merits of Bud Light versus Miller Lite–and why the hell they spell the “light” differently. You know. The important stuff.

HOLLA.

P.S. I am serious about taking you to bed tomorrow. Remember I said there was something fresh + cheeky coming your way on Friday? Well, Friday’s almost here. Holy lacey lingerie!

P.P.S. Can you even do a drum roll with a bongo?

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

Homeless to Six Figures in 365 Days

Ash — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 04:30:00 +0000

I was always the girl everyone secretly hated.

Straight A student, captain of the volleyball team, president of everything, full college scholarship winner, boy magnet, outgoing flirt, lover of life, gag-inducing optimist, holds-the-fuckity-door-door-door-for-everyone kind of annoying human being.

Fast forward to adulthood, and I still somehow managed to stay that girl–with a far better wardrobe, of course, and much less door holding, because apparently, when you’re hot and you have money, men seem to like to do that shit for you.

Fancy Philly apartments, new sports cars, a job title to die for, national awards in sales + marketing, vacations in Hawaii, and later, even a brand new home custom built with stone fireplaces, vaulted ceilings, hardwood, jacuzzi tubs, flat screens in every room.

For years I was that girl.

Right up until the day I wasn’t.

::: Until the day life’s demons caught up with me, like I knew they someday would.

::: Until the day my restlessness got in the way, and shoved me face first into the pavement, yelling, “What the fuck are you doing? You know this isn’t you living–this is you dying.”

::: Until my own standards mocked me, whispering in my ear, “You stupid bitch. What happened to your dreams of travel? Of experiences? Of learning new languages? Of doing something that mattered? Of doing something you were proud of? You turned out just like the rest of ‘em.”

::: Until the day I realized how much being an orphan affected the way I looked at everything, finally able to grasp the fucking fleeting nature of it all. Time, people, and all of the opportunities we’re given to experience, but don’t take, because collectively, we’re a bunch of chicken shits.

::: Until the day I left it all, including my job, and my home, and moved in with an illegal Mexican immigrant who I loved passionately, madly, irrationally…in order to start anew.

::: Until the day soon after when he nearly choked me to death, leaving me puffy-eyed and homeless with $26 to my name, where I spent the night in a K-Mart parking lot with nowhere to go, and no one to turn to.

::: Until the day I had no choice but to savagely claw my way out from devastation, destitution, and the dirtiest fucking pit of despair I’d ever imagined.

Me.

That girl.

Except I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I was nothing more than the hollow, empty, listless shell of that girl. So much for gag-inducing optimism.

…But…know what’s good about empty shells?

They’re empty.

And when something’s empty, it means that there’s lots of room to fill it up with whatever you please.

::: That emptiness is a second chance to be who you want.

::: That emptiness is a second chance to fill that shell with what you want.

::: And most importantly, that emptiness is a second chance to LIVE.

This is the story of how I filled that empty shell back up.

Clawing. Scraping. Fighting. Sweating. Bleeding. Thrashing. And using my own two hands to hoist myself up, turn around, look defeat in the eye, and spit right in its face. Victoriously.

Homeless to 6 figures in one year flat.

Hey, defeat?

I didn’t come to play games.

I came take your ass to school.

And that’s exactly what I did.

Nice to have met you.

Now get the fuck out of my way.

*****************************************************************************

If you want to know exactly what I did, step-by-step, to go from $26 to $100,222.37 in 2011, the full set of archives of 97 in ’11 is now available.

97 in ’11 was the program I ran in 2011, sending out regular updates detailing my plans, my strategies, my reasons, my financials, my thought processes and anything I learned along the way through trial and error.

Now that the year has wrapped, I’ve gone ahead and made all of the archives available in one place.

There are 31 segments, totaling 211 pages of classified business strategy, secrets, advice, tips, and practical, actionable information you can use to help your business spit in the face of defeat this year, as I have.

It’s a blueprint, if you will.

From my very own marketing techniques, to client acquisition strategies, to handling clients, to finding media opportunities, to the entire product development, creation and launch process (detailing everything I did to make each successful, from A to Z), to the challenges (and solutions) to running a business as a solopreneur–it’s all here.

Everything I did.
How I did it.
And what the results were.
Step-by-step.
January through December.
Unedited.
Unapologetic.
For your eyes.
If you’re ready.

::: To gain access to the full set of archives ($97), click here.

::: To download three free sample archives ($0), click here. [You will still be required to enter in your contact information for access.]

[Note: If you purchased the first 6 months of 97 in '11 midway through the year, and are interested in gaining access to the second half, please email me at ash @ themiddlefingerproject.org.]

***************************************************************************

You ain’t goin’ down without a fight, baby.

Better make it a good one.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

Opportunity: Get PAID to Quit Your Job, Sell Your Stuff + Move to Paradise (For real.)

Ash — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 21:58:35 +0000

[Note: This is not crap. I am not paid to say this shit. You should probably check it out. And get on it, already. Love, Ash.]

Yo!

Want to get PAID to quit your job, sell your stuff + move to paradise?

We’ve got the hook up for you here at TMFproject.

The long version (audio file):

Download audio file (ScreenFlow.mp3)

The short version:

My man Michael Petrella is casting a hot new reality TV show called Quit Your Job + Move to Paradise.…and he’s looking for YOU.

If you’ve already dreamed about quitting your job, selling your stuff, and moving to paradise…and you’re preferably over the age of 30 with a family to support, then Michael wants to hear from you. Today. As in now. As in right now. As in…put the wine glass down and send him a damn email.

You could be America’s next sensation. What now, Jersey Shore?

Details are listed here: http://www.michaelpetrella.com/current

If you want to email Michael directly, you can do so here: castings@michaelpetrella.com

Deadline for entries is this Friday, so don’t screw around.

Get it done.

And then buy me a Jaguar.

The end.

P.S. Don’t forget to visit The Middle Finger Project Wed + Friday of this week, because we’ve got mad things going on for new entrepreneurs who want to make bank–and have a blast while doing it. Stay tuned, you sexpot, you.

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

How to Fuck Up a Sale in 27 Minutes Flat (But Still Score a Date)

Ash — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 14:55:31 +0000

The Scene: The United States of America.

9:57am: Walk into L.A. Fitness.

9:58: Meet stunningly fit individual named Alberto.

10:00am: Decide there is some fucked up pheromones wandering around body that insist on me + Latino men.

10:01am: Wonder if Alberto’s name really is Alberto. Consider how unsexy it would be to call him Al.

10:02: Make mental note to call him Al in an attempt to become less attracted to him.

10:03: Wonder if he’s related to Vin Diesel.

10:04: Wonder about Vin Diesel’s ethnicity.

10:05: Wonder if I’d ever have a chance with Vin Diesel.

10:06: Decide that I would have a chance if I’d just get my fat ass on the elliptical instead of procrastinating by the water fountain.

10:10: Al tries to sell me personal training services. I’m tempted, understanding that this will mean bodily contact. I’ll take what I can get.

10:11: Al talks a mile a minute and I have no idea what he says at all.

10:12: Al keeps talking way too fast and makes me feel incredibly sold to.

10:13: Think about how true it is that people like to buy, but hate to be sold to. How about *that* for your next tattoo, Casanova?

10:14: Rip pen out of Al’s hand and rewrite the information over again so I am ACTUALLY ABLE TO READ IT. If I can’t understand it, I can’t possibly want to buy it.

10:15: Al must sense my thought process and asks if I think he’s a good salesman. I tell him he is not. I do add, however, that he might be if anyone could understand what the fuck he was saying.

10:16: Al blames fast talking on being Dominican.

10:17: Still attracted to Al, regardless of poor sales tactics. Decide I am going to stop calling him Al, and start calling him, “El Dominicano.”

10:20: Weighs me (FML), reads my body fat (FML), and then all hell breaks loose: El Dominicano asks if I’d like to go bowling that night.

10:21: Walk away screaming inside brain, “HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT.” Mostly because dude definitely knows I’m in the “above” fat percentage zone and yet I still manage to mack him. Quite pleased.

10:22: Realize I have no fucking idea what people wear bowling.

10:23: Realize I will likely be forced into wearing those hideous multi-colored, 1970′s style bowling shoes.

10:24: Decide my ass must look amazing to compensate.

12pm: Proceed to mall to purchase new pants, given that I have none since my latest international move.

Fast forward to 9pm that night.

9:00: Strut into bowling alley wearing said new pants.

9:01: El Dominicano leans in and whispers in ear: “Want to know how I know you’re a classy chick, Ashley?” Looks at me with smirk. Leans back in to whisper a second time. “Because you go out and buy new pants before your dates.” Proceeds to bend down and rip off humongous sticker with pants size running down the back of my thigh.

9:02: Mortified! Mortified! Mortified!

9:02: Motion with my finger for him to get close. Whisper back to him, “Want to know how I know you’re a terrible salesperson, Alberto?” Look at him with smirk. “Because if you weren’t, you’d know the *reason* I’m wearing new pants.”

9:03: Turn around and throw strike.

Okay, so the strike never happened.

But the rest did. My point to Vin-berto was that when he had me at his desk, talking a million miles a minute, going through what was obviously a routine sales pitch, that I couldn’t even understand…not once did he stop and ask me about me. About my goals. About why I was there. About what I hoped to accomplish. About why the fuck I’d ever consider opening my wallet and giving him $300 a month to train me. Or the fact that I had just come from Chile and didn’t have any pants.

Instead, it was all about him him him and what he he he can do do do.

When I resisted, his immediate response was to reassure me that I could trust him, that if I give him the opportunity he won’t let me down–foolishly assuming my resistance was the result in a lack of trust in his abilities, when in reality, it had nothing to do with him. I was really assessing if what I needed to accomplish (emphasis on the I) would require a $300 a month investment. Not whether or not I thought he could do it.

So not only did he talk about himself the whole time, but then he began overcoming the wrong objections–objections that I didn’t even have.

Later at the bowling alley, we actually started talking shop. Talking sales. (Because that’s apparently what I talk about on dates, ahem.) He mentioned that they teach all of their trainers that they aren’t there to sell personal training–they’re there to sell sex appeal.

I agreed, but with one caveat.

They aren’t selling me theirs.

They’re selling me mine.

There’s a difference.

And in order to sell me mine, you’ve got to know what I think is sexy–not just from a physical standpoint, but in terms of other aspects as well–so you can position your services accordingly.

And you can’t do that if you spend 95% talking at me, instead of with me.

Fast forward to later that evening:

2:00am: Drops me off. (Foolishly) asks if he can come up to see new place.

2:01: Remind him that I’m a classy chick, as he so kindly pointed out earlier that evening.

2:03: Vin-berto leaves very disappointed.

2:04: Wonder if Vin Diesel would be smoother.

2:05: Decide he definitely would be.

2:06: Stay up for next 30 minutes stalking Vin Diesel online.

THE END.

Yes, that’s really how the story ends.

Though I suppose, not really, because I have two very important things to tell you:

1. If you want to know step-by-step how you can pull 6 figures this year with your biz, keep your eyes peeled for Wednesday.

2. If you’re looking to rev up your brand this year, and were hoping to really nail down your message + get HEARD – SEEN – TALKED ABOUT – SOUGHT AFTER while keepin’ your cool, keep your eyes peeled for Friday. Friday’s going to be fucking magical. And there’s going to be a lot of one night stands happening. That’s all I’m sayin’. Interpret it as you wish.

XO and all of that happy horseshit,

Ash

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

The Day The Cash Register Became Obsolete (WTF?)

Ash — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 06:50:53 +0000

Note: This post contains adult language.

It’s so adult, you might swear you’ve just been transported to a seedy, smoke-laced Las Vegas strip club filled with large Italian men.

The good news is that you haven’t.

The bad news is that somebody let me have my own blog.

And…so we begin.

****************************************************************************

What I want to talk about is some weird shit.

Weird shit always makes its way into my day, so why not talk about it here?

You see this horrendously blurry picture of a bag?

Yeah, well….I had to practically knife a bitch to get that bag.

Yeah.

See, I told you it was gonna get weird.

Me, knifing bitches? I can barely cut my grilled cheese in half.

So anyway.

The reason for all of this unnecessary gang-like, bandana-requiring violence is because I was at the Apple store the other day (weren’t you?) and, lo and behold, I saw the strangest thing.

Unhappy.

People.

In fact, I saw an entire canoe’s worth of unhappy people, waiting awkwardly around the store for the one idiot who had the stupid little maxi-pad, plus-sized uber-special iphonity phone phone that can, apparently, check people out of the store.

Shockingly, we did not have these in Chile.

So this was a thrilling new experience, since I happen to be in the United States right now. You know, the place I remember as being more efficient than South America.

So of course I thought to myself: Where are all the fucking cash registers?!

And so I look real stupid, looking around the store like I just missed ‘em somewhere. Like maybe I need to discreetly slide some book off of a bookshelf somewhere and suddenly the wall will pull an Indiana Jones move and rotate around, revealing the real Apple store with a whole glistening team of young, supple cash registers, just waiting to ring up my purchase.

No such luck.

But, really?

We gave up cash registers?

No more cash registers?

Like, wasn’t that a little hasty?

Fucking iPhone’s just so advanced these days, who needs clunky metal boxes full of money, anyway? Because apparently nobody pays with cash anymore.

BUT WHAT IF I WANTED TO PAY WITH CASH?

What if I just happened to have $1600 burning a painful hole in my pocket, and I wanted to give it to Apple, but they couldn’t take my money.

Credit card only, sweetheart.

Really?

I find that hard to believe.

Everyone takes cash.

Usually, it’s the credit card they don’t take. Usually, it’s the other way around.

What is the world coming to?

SO ANYWAY.

It’s right then when some red-headed, sun-spot faced *BLEEP* tries to saddle on up to my man with the magical maxi pad cash register, just before it was my turn. I saw her tryin’ to make her move. Like she had more important things to do than me. Doesn’t she know I had to hurry home so I could write intellectually stimulating blog posts like this one?

The nerve.

So, that’s when I almost stabbed her.

It was more of an imaginary stab, of course, but there was a solid mental intention on my part, and that’s got to count for something.

A bowl full of jelly beans, perhaps. Except I hate jelly beans. So they can get the fuck out of my post.

ANYWAY.

Deep breath.

One two three.

This really had nothing to do with why I even took the picture of the bag in the first place, because in the first place I was totally intending on writing a post about the importance of packaging and how the higher quality bags that Apple uses translates really well into a perception of higher quality products and that it just wouldn’t be the same if they were giving out Macbook Pros in a fucking grocery store bag or some shit AND AND AND as an added bonus I was going to make jokes about its cute little strings that turn the bag into a backpack–you know, just in case you happen to be one of those annoying hipster people who rides their bike everywhere with a beanie hat and cranberry and navy colored striped crew neck sweater.

Oh shit. That’s totally you, isn’t it?

Well now I’ve gone and done it.

Now I’m the one who’s going to get stabbed.

So much for a good start to the new year.

I knew I shouldn’t have given up karate.

P.S. My apologies to the sales guy at the Apple store who I called an idiot. You were not really an idiot. That was just for effect.

P.P.S. You asked me the name of my blog. I told you. God forbid you are reading this.

P.P.P.S. I like big butts and I cannot lie. Unrelated.

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

$100,222.37 (Yes, That Is the Title of This Post.) (Also: Fake Russian Accents Are Ridiculous.)

Ash — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 19:26:38 +0000

[The scene: She apathetically releases a puff of smoke from a pair of fiery red lips, before she stands up, yanks at her fishnets, props herself clumsily upon the bar, leans just a little bit too much (so you can kinddaaa see her boobs)...and makes an announcement...]

Note: You should probably click below to listen to me reading this post partly in a ridiculous fake Russian Accent. Yes, that’s right. I actually did that. You’re welcome. You will either hate me fiercely or love me forever. One or the other. Muah. ah. ah. But don’t worry–I don’t read ALL of it in a ridiculous fake made up Russian Accent.

https://s3.amazonaws.com/audiofiles.themiddlefingerproject.org/%24100%2C222.37.mp3

***************************************************************************

First of all, I’d like to announce that these fishnets are giving me a muffin top. Please refrain from touching my midsection. It will not be nice.

Second, there are announcements, my friend. Announcements! A whole dumptruck full of announcements to be made. Today. Thursday. On this fine day of January, 2012.

Are you ready for some ~~football?~~ … crazy, sexy ~~diet?~~ … good shit that you should know, that I’m excited to tell you?

***************************************************************************

–

Announcement #1

Remember at the beginning of last year when I said I was going to smoke it revenuewise in 2011…and promised I’d pull $97,000 my first full-time year in business with The Middle Finger Project…after becoming homeless and starting over from scratch? (And even invited you to follow along?)

Remember that shit?

Well boo-yah, baby.

Say hello to $100,222.37 for 2011.

Here’s a stupid pie chart:

Sidenote: Soon, I’ll be releasing the second 6 months worth of 97 in ’11, as well as a full year option. Keep an eye out.

Announcement #2

I’ve gotten a few emails from you cool cats asking whether or not you can pay with credit card for Clients + Cash, and ze answer, of course, is yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. It just isn’t all that obvious, and I’m workin’ on that. But in the meantime, if this was your concern and you want to pay with a credit or debit card, click here and follow ze instructions.

Announcement #3

This is my new favorite song. Unrelated.

Announcement #4

Still spots open for our Costa Rica retreat this March. You should probably come. I promise not to accidentally drown you.

Announcement #5

I’m in the process of bringing back consulting seshes, and revamping copywriting offerings to be much more a la carte and—how do I put it—economically pleasing…designed specifically for small biz owners just getting started, so you can boost conversions + make more dollah bills this year. You guys have given me lots of shit (with love) the last half of the year for withdrawing those services. I heard you. Now, they’re making a comeback with a big ass cherry on top. Soon. Lookout.

Announcement #6

There is no announcement #6. Justttt fucking with you.

There.

That is all.

Sending you all my love, and a big, burly man from Greece to sooth your woes (sorry, fellas),

Ash

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

How to Sell More In 2012, Featuring Pier One Imports + Hot Dogs. Yeah, Hot Dogs.

Ash — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 04:28:36 +0000

Holy disco ball, it’s 2012.

I’ve (just now) decided that this year is going to be all about less vodka, more water. …Maybe.

It’s also going to be about silk sheets, billiards, baseball hats, and love. Yeah, that’s right. Luh-uh-ve. I’m going to fall madly in love this year. And that person is going to fall madly in love with me back. I just know it.

He better be hot.

Anyway, while I was performing all of this high-level brainstorming, it occurred to me that I should probably come up with a few 2012 predictions for you, too.

You must be thrilled.

So here’s what I’m thinking 2012 is going to include for you:

Less water, more vodka
Sweatpants in every color
Your first big success
Your first big failure
Increased thoughts of homicide
Hot dogs (what? they are good)
Uncertainty
Frustration
Burnout
(I’m making your year sound awesome, aren’t I?)
A love hate relationship with the internet
A love hate relationship with yourself
A love hate relationship with everyone else
Deodorant. Lots of it. You know…from sweatin’ that to-do list. (Oooohhhhhh! Ambirge’s got jokes!)
Oh, and money.
Money.
MONEY.
Money that feels good to make.
Money that feels so good to make, you don’t even feel slightly guilty about impulsive purchasing that gorgeous sexpot of a mirror because it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you pretty much want to make love on top of it every single moment of every single day. Followed by heavy cigar smoking. Obviously.

Yup.

That’s pretty much your 2012 in a nutshell.

But in between your hot dog filled, homicidal money making extravaganza this year, I want you to remember two very important things:

1. Eucalyptus is disgusting. (Unrelated)

2. No matter what you’re building, the key to selling is about MAKING PEOPLE CARE.

**I don’t care what business you’re in – the key to selling will always be about making people care.**

Can we talk about Pier One for a minute?

Not because they’re the ones who sell that sex pot of a mirror, but because as I was perusing their site today, they sold me on something that I would have never purchased in infinity number of years: Wicker.

Wicker.

The thought alone brings back images of grandmothers, mothballs and swirly pink, white and purple seat cushions.

Howevah.

I stumbled upon a sales page for wicker furniture, and caught myself getting really into it.

The reason?

Not only do they list the products and their descriptions, they include entire sections educating buyers on the intricacies of wicker furniture – what it is, how it differs from other types like rattan and cane, how wicker is made, and fun facts about wicker.

For example, did you know that it takes approximately 10,000 weavers to produce enough wicker merchandise to supply 1000 Pier 1 stores? And that an experienced weaver can only complete two chairs a day?

Fucking fascinating!

So there I was, reading all about wicker, and getting really into it. I found myself thinking: Wow – I want some wicker! It’s so exotic!

A thought I’ve never had before.

Because before, I didn’t care.

But Pier One did an exceptional job of making me care today by giving me a nice, easily digestible interesting backstory that not only helped me to appreciate the furniture, but also make a new association in my head, from old lady to exotic.

And now I’m all hot for it.

And with that comes the third really important thing you need to remember for 2012: Just because people aren’t shopping…doesn’t mean they aren’t buying. Understand how to leverage that, and 2012 is yours.

How to Use This Information

If you’re a web designer with a portfolio, I don’t want to just see your portfolio. I want to know the story behind what the client started with, what they wanted, and how you made it happen.

If you’re a life coach with services, I don’t want to just see your service. I want to know the story behind what your services have done for other people you’ve coached. You don’t need to include their real names. But tell their stories.

If you’re a makeup artist with before + after photos, I don’t want to just see before + after photos. I want to know the story behind how you accomplished the look, given that person’s situation.

If you’re a candle maker with a new collection, I don’t want to just see the collection. I want to know the story behind why this collection was imagined, which mood each evokes, and examples of perfect circumstances to light ‘em.

Because…

As human beings, it’s stories we can connect with. It’s stories we can see ourselves in. It’s stories that make me feel something. It’s stories that make me care about you. And it’s stories that will make me give you my money.

Tell ‘em.

*******************************************************************************

If you need more clients in 2012, our program is hot.

We were tickled to see this email come through just the other day:

Click here to see what the fuss is about.

Apparently, these posts were a big hit:

Lewd(ER) Life Lessons From 2011. To Be Read With a Fake Italian Accent.

Ash — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 15:42:26 +0000

1. When it comes to running your own business, business can be pleasure. Whoever’s telling you different is clearly in the wrong line of work.

2. Speaking of work, when you work for money and nothing else, that’s exactly what you’ll end up with: Money, and nothing else. Do it for the right reasons. Don’t be shortsighted. You know better.

3. Think of sex as a business activity with an ROI. It *will* help your productivity (and profitability) in the long-run. Ditto for naps, massages, dirty romance novels, days of absolute nothingness, and that other guilty pleasure. You know. Reality TV.

4. If the shoe doesn’t fit, what the fuck are you still doing with it on?

5. If you’re tired…there’s a reason. Honor it.

6. Beating yourself up about mistakes you made, time you wasted, things you said (or didn’t), or deadlines you missed is stupid. Learn from it. Then do a little striptease for yourself in front of the mirror, yank your confidence back, and move on. Simple.

7. If you don’t want to…don’t, alright? Too many obligations are the result of you carrying out everyone else’s wishes…and not enough of your own. This is where burnout breeds. And burnout is ugly and will make you lose lots and lots of money. Not to mention all of the other stuff. (Happiness…ahem.)

8. Have a clear vision for where you want your business to be 1, 3 and 5 years from now…and make decisions that support those goals. You’ll get there much faster. If you don’t know? Figure it out. Trying to build a business without knowing what you’re building is like trying to build a house without having any idea of what you want the finished product to look like. That would just be dumb. And most likely lopsided.

9. Stop making excuses for yourself. It’s annoying. You might be scared to death, but we all are. SUCK. IT. UP.

10. Learn to know when you shouldn’t just suck it up. And then tell people like me to kiss your ass.

******************************

Friendly Reminder: One day left to purchase your ticket to this March’s Costa Rica Beach + Biz retreat at its discounted rate. Coconuts! Monkeys! Profits! Click here for details.

Other friendly reminder: If you need more clients in 2012, we can help. The program is hot.