So I wrote a book. Any Newhouse can do that. What we can't do is promote ourselves. I mean, it's not like we're timid or anything, and certainly not the silent sort. It's just…well…we're from Wisconsin. And of Norwegian heritage. We don't do that sort of thing….
Normally, not a problem. But they canned me from Wal-Mart, and I gotta get a LITTLE money. And that’s not all….
I only got one year to get every man, woman, and child (order by convention only, though I do put men first….) to know that you can cheat the nursing home. Thirsting to die—yup, you can do it. So no big surprise that I hate marketing, right?
Here are the rules:
1. It’s gotta be fun. Anything I ever succeeded at was something I DIDN’T take seriously. All I ever wanted to do was play the cello—and God, did I fuck up on that.
2. It’s gotta be funny.
3. And somebody else has gotta do the work.
I’m serious, guys. I did seven years of Wal-Mart, to warp the song, and anything else has to be a laugh….
But how to do it?
Well, that should be easy, right? I mean, working at Wal-Mart shoulda taught me SOMETHING!
Problem is, they never liked any of my ideas. The idea to get the bonus—just build an extra Sam’s and SuperCenter, and don’t tell Bentonville.
Or how about…
Forget it—it was the corporate culture of NO (as in NO, MARC!)
OK, so how about Amway...? Hey, what if everybody who reads Iguanas and likes it goes to this site, joins, and becomes their own business!
Refer the book to friends? That’s five Iguana points!
Design a t-shirt? That’s ten Iguana points!
Hold an Iguana party in your very own home! A zillion Iguana points.
And everyone who signs up because of you is…
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