Smells Like Entreprenurial Spirit

The economy is still in pretty bad shape job-wise. This is not news.

But for those of us who work in a fairly secure industry (knock wood, spit, spit, throw salt, cross my fingers) it's a little too easy to take shit - like a paycheck - for granted.

Until you talk to somebody like our bestie Dory, who is an extremely talented graphic designer, but who lives in the left ventricle of the recession-addled Heartland and is having a bit of trouble finding someone to, you know, design for.

So what does she do? Does she whine about it? Does she join the Tea Party and march around at City Council meetings dressed like Betsy Ross on crack, brandishing a misspelled sign?

Hellz no.

She went authentic Helen Reddy on that shit. She stuck out her chin, pinned back her ears and went into business for herself. Hear Me Roar, motherfuckers!

Actually, she's going in to a couple of businesses, the first of which is photography and design. She's been doing this for a while, obv, but now she's taking it to the big-time. More to come later.

The, in my opinion, really interesting thing she's doing is NC17, so if you aren't 18 year old, don't click here.

Hang your head in shame, Tupperware. Sit down and shut up, Mary Kay. There's a new game in town and it's a HOOT!!

So here's the thing - she needs to get this venture off the ground and has been brainstorming marketing ideas. I'm thinking bachelorette parties are a perfect fit for this particular...product line. Why just sit around, getting drunk and playing stupid games when you could have a theme party?

Another option - maybe cougar birthday parties. You know, Happy 50th, we know your husband left you for a 30-year-old, but you don't need him to have a good time! Yes? You think? The trick is figuring out how to reach out to those women....

You're a diverse, creative, intelligent group of people, so I pose this question to you: Which markets do you think she should target, and how? We're obviously missing demographic groups here, I'm just not sure which ones. Sorority girls? How would you do that?

Hmm...Baby showers? Is that appropriate? Actually, personally, I think that would be damn funny. How the hell do you think she got knocked up to begin with?!

This may explain why I don't get invited to bridal or baby showers.

Please talk amongst yourselves and comment with your ideas. And do feel free to do some shopping while you're at it. Surely you know a pregnant woman or a 49-year-old....


Country Girl said…
You hit the good ones!! Every decade birthday is a milestone until you hit the next one...that is. Bachelorette. Hell, engagement, too. And I know YOU think the baby shower one is funny but you show up with that shit when I'm pushing 200 pounds, haven't had a drink or seen my feet in an eternity and am DOG CUSSING the husband who said..."Just this once?" Nah.
Tom said…
First of all, this is just another reason I. Love. Both of you! I laughed loudly at the post and then just as loudly at the comment!*snicker* DOG cussin!

Secondly, I think Paul Revere there didn't misspell. I think he was referring to his own descent into madness and how that somehow is a tribute to patriotism.
Anonymous said…
I may or may not have squealed like a little girl and got a tiny bit verklempt simultaneously. I love you girls with pink puffy lacy spangled sparkly hearts.

For those of you who don't know, I'm deaf (not to mention on meds for life for depression, anxiety, and ADD) so take a regular job search but MINUS any position in front line customer service and MINUS any position using a phone. You roll that all up into a shit pile (you grab some latex gloves, because, EW), times it by six freaking months, and you have a recipe for a major depressive episode. Not good. In fact, BAD. Rillyrilly bad.

I was just getting so damned discouraged at applying for positions and not getting interviews then not being able to find anything to even apply for, for several days in a row. I had to do something to stop the victim mentality from staging a coup in my brain. And that meant I had to take some very scary, outside my comfort zone, steps to take the reins back from the economy and into my hands where they belong.

HEAR ME ROAR indeed!

It might be from inside my closet curled up in the fetal position. But STILL.

Dory at Can't Remember Diddly