5 High-Impact Marketing Tips
Copyright 2004 Bob Leduc
http://BobLeduc.com

Here are 5 high-impact marketing tips you can use to boost
your sales quickly. All are simple to implement and they
involve little or no new expense.

1. Promote Only One Thing at a Time

Promote only 1 product or service each time you advertise.
Many people have difficulty selecting one product when their
decision forces them to delay or reject buying something
else they also want. When prospects cannot make an easy
choice they often make no decision at all …and you lose
the sale.

Tip: Offer new customers a related product or service
immediately after they buy from you. Many will accept your
offer, producing an easy sale without jeopardizing the
initial purchase.

2. Provide Multiple Ways for Customers to Buy

Providing choices of what to buy will reduce your sales. But
providing choices of how to buy will increase your sales.
Offer many different ways for customers to buy from you. The
same method is not convenient for everybody. Prospective
customers are more likely to act immediately when their
favorite way of ordering is available.

3. Avoid Your Competitors

Look for some new niche markets you and your competitors
overlooked. You may uncover a market you can dominate with
little or no competition.

One quick and easy way to find profitable new markets is to
sub-divide your current market into several narrowly defined
niche markets. Then customize your advertising to the unique
needs of prospects in each niche market.

Tip: You can narrow the appeal of an existing web site
without losing its effectiveness with your main market. Just
create customized web pages for each market segment you want
to target. Then add a link to each of these specialized
pages on your home page.

4. Use Alternative Marketing

Look for alternative media your competitors may be
overlooking. For example, many internet marketers are
beginning to use direct mail postcards to generate traffic
to their web sites. It?s a low cost way to bypass the heavy
competition online.

A brief captivating message on a postcard with an enticing
offer sent to the right prospects will generate a flood of
traffic to your website - or a large number of sales leads.

Tip: Postcards are also an excellent low-cost alternative to
email. People get so much email today that even legitimate
messages are getting deleted unread. But they get few if any
postcards. Your message is guaranteed to get their attention
when it’s delivered on a postcard.

5. Encourage Questions

You?re walking away from a lot of easy sales if you don?t
encourage prospects to ask questions about your product or
service.

Only interested prospects will take the time to ask
questions. Many will buy …especially if you answer their
question quickly and completely. You can even include a
promotion for your product or service as part of your
answer.

Make it easy for prospects to ask questions when they are at
your web site or in other selling situations where there is
no personal contact. For example, provide a phone number or
an email address they can use to ask questions.

Tip: If you find yourself personally answering a lot of
questions, add a Questions and Answers section to your web
site or your sales brochure. Include the answers to the most
frequently asked questions. It will reduce the number of
questions you have to answer personally.

Each of these 5 marketing tips provides a simple way for you
to boost your sales quickly …and for little or no new
expense.

Bob Leduc spent 20 years helping businesses like yours find
new customers and increase sales. He just released a New
Edition of his manual, How To Build Your Small Business Fast
With Simple Postcards …and launched *BizTips from Bob*, a
newsletter to help small businesses grow and prosper. You’ll
find his low-cost marketing methods at: http://BobLeduc.com
or call: 702-658-1707 After 10 AM Pacific Time/Las Vegas, NV

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bob Leduc spent 20 years helping businesses like yours find
new customers and increase sales. He just released a New
Edition of his manual, How To Build Your Small Business Fast
With Simple Postcards …and launched *BizTips from Bob*, a
newsletter to help small businesses grow and prosper. You’ll
find his low-cost marketing methods at: http://BobLeduc.com
or call: 702-658-1707 After 10 AM Pacific Time/Las Vegas, NV

During the course of his celebrated career, Rush Limbaugh invented the term “adult beverages” to refer to alcoholic drinks so as not to offend mothers with young children listening to the show. But no insight was given on where to find the best dittohead adult beverages. That’s why I created The Dittohead’s Guide to Adult Beverages, a political humor book fans of the show will love.

Just try out these great recipes:

ENVIRONMENTALIST WACKO WHISKEY

Glass: Your Own Cupped Hands

Ingredients:

1 Part Triple Sec (as long as it wasn’t made in a wicked corporate factory)
2 Parts Whiskey (homemade by Sierra Club members in an earth-friendly distillery)
1 Part Grain Alcohol (flammable liquid used by the Earth Liberation Front to burn SUVs)
1 Frozen Pond (the result of any number of man-made environmental catastrophes)
1 Dolphin (the pinnacle of creation, according to environmentalist wackos)

Instructions: First, cut several ice cubes from the surface of a frozen pond (these should be abundant due to the smog effect blocking the sun’s rays in preparation for the coming ice age). Avoid using a freezer to produce your ice cubes, because freezers are a capitalist-concocted first cousin of man’s worst enemy - the air conditioner. Next, combine ingredients (along with your pond cubes) in your own cupped hands. Don’t you dare use a glass instead of your hands, because the process of making glass destroys Mother Earth.

Origin: This adult beverage is named in honor of environmentalist wackos, a fringe movement (not to be confused with serious and responsible ecology-minded people) that believes mankind is the greatest threat to nature, seeks to destroy private property, and longs to establish a socialist regime to impose their nuttiness on the rest of us.

Special Note: For years environmentalist wackos have told us that dolphins are superior to humans - despite the absence of dolphin highways, libraries, or institutions of higher learning. But for all their supposed brilliance, I challenge any environmentalist wacko to find a dolphin that can make an adult beverage as good as this one!

EL RUSHBO

Glass: A Highball Glass Emblazoned with the EIB Network Logo

Ingredients:

1 Part Rum (shares the first two letters of its name with Rush!)
2 Parts Blue Gatorade (consumed while playing a round of golf in honor of Rush)
2 Parts Sprite (in recognition of capitalist lemon-lime soda companies)
1 Prestigious Attila the Hun Chair (symbolic of complete radio industry dominance)
Talent on Loan From God (why liberals don’t stand a chance against El Rushbo)

Instructions: Utilizing talent on loan from God (assuming that, unlike most liberals, you acknowledge the existence of God), combine ingredients in a highball glass emblazoned with the EIB logo and top off with whipped cream (but please use the whipped cream in this adult beverage recipe the way Rush would use it and not in the manner in which Bill Clinton would use it). Enjoy from the comfortable confines of your own Attila the Hun chair, the undisputed seat of talk-radio industry power.

Origin: This dittohead adult beverage is affectionately named in honor of Rush Limbaugh - lover of mankind, protector of motherhood, supporter of fatherhood (in most instances), general all-around good guy, and a man designated by the US Department of Education as a bona fide “weapon of mass instruction.”

Special Note: This adult beverage is documented to almost always taste great, 96.712 percent of the time, just as El Rushbo is documented to be almost always right, 97.963 percent of the time!

Britt Gillette is author of The Dittohead’s Guide to Adult Beverages (Regnery 2005), a political humor book for fans of Rush Limbaugh.

In a last minute plea by Howard Stern and Don Imusarch shock jock enemies by day, civic watchdogs by nightNew York City’s Mayor Bloomberg was moved to avert a doorman strike that potentially could have killed thousands of the Big Apple’s wealthiest tenants. The bargain was struck at the midnight hour when United Alliance of Entrance and Exit Engineers, Local 96923, President Pepe Soposa pulled chiropractic service benefits off the table in return for agreement to eliminate mandated polyester from the dress code, a perennial flash point for the luxury lobby lookouts.

Shaking hands with the mayor, Pepe proclaimed, “Meester Mayor, that ees one open door for reech man but giant cotton tee-shirts for doorman kinds.”

The mayor smiled and added, “Just don’t injure your back putting on the tees my friend.”

According to the AP, during a post settlement press conference, the mayor revealed the difference was a last minute joint conference call he took at the request of radio shock jocks Howard Stern of Sirius Radio and Don Imus of WFAN AM, no fans of each other.

Cranelegs News was able to acquire tapes of the purported call from an anonymous source who only went by the name Beetlejuice.

From the recording:

Stern: “Two years ago our (expletive) doorman didn’t (expletive) show up. Some (expletive) lame ass excuse about his (expletive) wife dying or something. The (expletive) back up doorman was late because his (expletive) bus broke (expletive) down. It was (expletive) awful. Worse than 9 (expletive) 11. Hundreds of us trapped in the (expletive) lobby for tens of (expletive) minutes. I could hear (expletive) Minelli squawking from inside the expletive elevator. She didn’t know how to press the (expletive) buttons. It was (expletive) horrifying … her (expletive) screams … her (expletive) singing. We were all trapped like (expletive) dogs. It was (expletive) hot too. I’m guessing as much as (expletive) 74 degrees. I tried to get the (expletive) hot chicks to take their (expletive) tops off. No one would. It was (expletive) frustrating man … (expletive) frustrating. (sniffling is heard) No one new how to use the (expletive) door? Do we (expletive) push? Do we (expletive) pull? Does it slide to the (expletive) right? To the (expletive) left? Does it open like a (expletive) window? No one knew! No one (expletive) knew man! (crying is heard) No one could (expletive) know. It takes an engineer … a (expletive) entrance and exit engineer man. (pauses) I called my (expletive) hot young model girlfriend to tell her I (expletive) loved her man. That I would muh … muh …(expletive) muh marry her if I (expletive) lived. That I was going to … (more sobbing) … (expletive) die. It was … (wailing) … just (expletive) terrible. Don’t let it happen, you (expletive) useless piece of (expletive)!”

According to Craneleg News inside sources, the mayor was seen to dab a tear from his cheek. At which point Don Imus broke into the conversation.

From the recording:

Imus: “Deirdre … (garbled) … Wyatt … (mumbling) … Imus Ranch for kids … (incoherent) … green for clean products … (incomprehensible) … after tax profits … (screaming in background) … (dishes breaking) … (coughing) … (gagging) … (expletive) doorman’s fault.”

Cranelegs News learned the mayor excused himself for a moment to collect his thoughts. He then responded to Stern and Imus.

From the recording:

Mayor Bloomberg: “If this is what happened in ten minutes, imagine the consequences of a day, a week, a month. It is clear that the lives of my wealthiest contributors, I mean our city’s most prominent residents lay in the balance.”

Imus: “… (gurgle) … (snort) … six Panasonic plasma screens … (cough) … paid for myself … (hhoocckkttuuiiee) …”

Stern: “Shut up you (expletive) old shriveled hey nanny nanny!”

The sound of a nasal hose from an oxygen tank is heard.

Mayor: “I will do whatever it takes to see that these scoundrels stay on the job. I thank you for coming forward and taking time away from your busy schedules to set the record straight. Good night my fellow New Yorkers and may God continue to bless the Upper East Side.”

As reported by our sources, the mayor abruptly left the conference room and met with Pepe. It took five minutes to reach the final deal.

This article was written by humorist Robert Crane. Author of “Still Living in the Sixties” and “The Single Adventure of Inlin Freebosh”, Robert also writes a popular blog of casual observations and polical commentary, almost always unfair and never balanced, all of which can be freely read at his website located in the outer edges of the “internets”:

http://www.cranelegs.com

One day, about 15 years ago, I decided to get a tan. I’d never been very good at getting tans. I knew that you had to lie motionless in the sun for long periods of time, but I always found it difficult not to keep getting up and checking my progress in the kitchen mirror. I was quite good at going different shades of red, but I could never quite manage that lovely bronzed look that people in the adverts always seemed to have.

On this particular day, clothed only in swimming trunks and flip flops, and armed with a book and towel, I left my college digs, marched across to the park, and lay down in the sun.

I woke up, and blinked. My God, I was blind. No, no, it was just very bright, silly. My skin felt tight though. Exceedingly tight. I must have been asleep for hours. I rolled up my bits and pieces into my towel, and hobbled back to the flat as quickly as I could. It was a relief to get back indoors, but I was already in serious pain. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror and assessed the damage. The entire front of my body was a startling, humming pink, as though I’d lain face down in fluorescent paint. Even the tiniest of movements caused intense pain. I closed my eyes and groaned. Not only was I in absolute agony, but I looked like a complete dork into the bargain.

We had a healthy turnover of tenants in our college digs. This term’s flatmate was a pretty Chinese girl who spoke very little English. From our previous conversations I knew she was a nurse. Reassured by this, I asked her what I could use to relieve my sunburn. Her face was blank.

‘Do you know if salt is the same thing as bicarbonate of soda?’ I repeated, more slowly and loudly. Blank. She smiled and frowned at the same time.

‘I’ve got sunburn,’ I said, pressing a finger into my chest. The white spot took several seconds to disappear. I looked up. ‘See? Do you know of anything that might help? I’ve heard that getting into a bath of bicarbonate of soda can help.’

‘I sink so. I sorry, I do’ know.’

I smiled at her impoverished but charming English, and went into the bathroom to run the bath. I gauged that the temperature should be somewhere below body temperature so as to provide relief, but not so much so that it would be a shock to the system. I smiled handsomely at her as I walked past her into the kitchen, and again on my way back to the bathroom with the bag of table salt. She smiled too, quizzically.

‘It’s ok,’ I smiled. ‘I think I know what I’m doing.’

She was quite cute, if a bit strait-laced, but I would certainly have cuddled up on the sofa with her if the opportunity ever arose. She said goodbye and closed the door firmly behind her.

With that, I went into the bathroom, still wincing from the slightest movement, poured the entire contents of the bag into the bath, and gave it a good swirl around with my hand. The salt dissolved quite quickly, I noted happily, and I could dive straight in. In I hopped. I gasped with shock and relief. It was colder than I’d hoped, but I quickly got used to it and vigorously set about scrubbing the worst affected areas.

To my disappointment, the bicarbonate of soda solution didn’t seem to be providing the immediate relief I’d hoped for. In fact, if anything, the pain seemed to be getting worse, bizarrely enough.

Then came the Epiphany.

I have never experienced such a sense of freedom in all my life. For one short-lived but blissful moment, I made a profound spiritual connection with my primaeval forebears, and, instinctively tilting my head back to achieve maximum volume, let out a long and bestial howl that must have alerted dogs for miles around.

‘Owwwwwwwwwooooooooooooaaaaaarrrrgh!‘

I sprang out of the bath, gasping, shivering, and still howling involuntarily, and angrily pulled the plug out.

‘Shit, shit, shit!‘ I shouted at her. How could she not have known that salt was not the same thing as bicarbonate of bloody soda? What the hell kind of nurse was she anyway? Jesus. I was quite literally hopping mad, and in intolerable pain. I needed immediate relief desperately. I trusted my own instincts this time, and quickly filled the bath with cold water and jumped straight in.

‘Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!‘ I shouted at her again, as I jumped out of the bath and danced around the bathroom. The itchy, scratchy, burning pain was so intense that I wanted to be removed from my own skin there and then. I wasn’t worried about fainting, I positively wanted to faint, but I’d never been a good fainter, and had had to endure many an interminable school assembly as a result.

I made myself climb back in, and washed and washed my arms, legs and chest, blaspheming imaginatively as I did so. I might as well have climbed into a bath of boiling water.

Several hours later, still in agony, but no longer in shock, I realised that what I really needed was a bit of sympathy. Gathering all the composure and dignity I could muster, I hobbled bowlegged upstairs in my underwear, tapped sheepishly on my friends’ door and explained what had happened. The pair couldn’t communicate with me or each other for several minutes, so incapacitated were they by laughter.

For the next two or three days I was housebound, could wear nothing but my baggiest underpants, and didn’t get a wink of sleep.

In my next life, I will pay attention in chemistry class.

Seb Carroll

http://sebcarroll.blogspot.com/

According to Woody Allen, the world is divided into the miserable and the truly horrible. The miserable are everyday normal people like you and I, and the truly horrible are the cerebral palsy victims on their twelfth round of chemotherapy writhing around on the floor in a vomitous stupor praying to God that someone would put a pillow over their head and put them out of their unbearable pain and suffering.

Woody Allen said that philosophy was like Chinese food. Fifteen minutes later and you’re hungry again. The bookshelves are filled with “How to Become Happy” bestsellers. Why is that? If people were happy would they need them? If people were happy would Valium and Alcohol be more popular than Paris Hilton? What are we all escaping from? What seems to be the problem?

The problem Dr. Phil is that your level of understanding of the human condition rivals that of an ant. The human brain was not programmed for happiness. It was programmed for misery. Take it up with your creator. The circumstances of life on earth are not suited for happiness. Every two seconds breaking news attacks your mind like Attila the Hun you Hun that New Orleans is now the lost continent of Atlantis. What were the odds at the beginning of the year that New Orleans would still be a landmass? You could have made a fortune in Las Vegas betting that the city would sink to the bottom of the Ocean in the next month.

Which brings us to fame and fortune. These two f’s are mirages, illusions of happiness on earth. Everyone dreams of winning the $425 million power ball lottery because then they will have true happiness. Countless aspiring starlets in Hollywood California right his moment are engaging in the most animalistic and sordid sexual activities with producers and casting directors hoping that it will lead them to world wide fame and $20 million dollar movie deals. Ask Elizabeth Taylor how happy she is. She went from the son of Conrad Hilton to a construction worker through Richard Burton twice to bubble’s father, the King of Pop. On route she stopped off at 9 rehab clinics to kick the Oxycodone she was taking for the unbearable pain in her back.

Every single thing that makes you feel good, like sex with total strangers in public places who you met 3 minutes ago is illegal or dangerous to your health and life. We are all angel spirits trapped in body containers for life with evil demon spirits whose only pleasure comes from torturing us and then laughing their heads off at us. The world is a lunatic asylum for the criminally insane run by the most insane of all, psychiatrists. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Psychiatry Volume IX is 42,000 pages long. There are nine volumes because these shamans keep coming up with new disorders. They have classified every single human emotion as an emotional disorder to be treated by them and the big drug companies. Elizabeth Taylor is the poster girl for Merck. If you are extremely happy these Dr. Phils say that you are manic and they put you on Lithium. In our society happiness is a recognized full blown major mental illness. The doctors understand that no one with any clue of what’s going on in the world today who is happy could be normal.

In a famous movie scene, the brave warrior Sitting Bull says, “Nothing gives me the ecstatic adrenaline rush that shooting an arrow into the head of a white man provides.” Sure, his grammar wasn’t perfect but you speak Cherokee. We are by nature vicious raping animalistic monsters whose ultimate thrill is scalping and being the big hero saving the day. Little Mary Lou from Kentucky doing cartwheels on the casting couch this afternoon with Abe the 62 year old 5′2” bald liar is hoping to one day star in Westerns. I hear they’re coming back. Danny de Vito is starring in the remake of True Grit.

Our laws forbid us from acting like human beings and raping and pillaging and so we live out our true natures at the movie theatres. Who cares if popcorn is $8 a bag and Coca Cola is $3.99 and you have 6 children? We’re talking an hour and 45 minutes of escape and vicarious thrills here watching other people pull the trigger on poor helpless widows and orphans. Speaking of trigger, my email box seems to be heading for an all time low. Recently I’ve noticed a spike in real live human beings sending me letters inviting me to watch 18 year old starlets take it back door from real live horses. Incest films are also on the rise. If you want to see the true nature of the human condition then forget about watching the Academy Awards this year. Just check your emails.

O.K. Lets get serious for a moment. Why is it that human beings are miserable? God said through the prophet Isaiah, “An angel must suffer on earth in order to overcome their problems, so that then they can help others overcome theirs.” Emotional pain is healthy. It is just like physical pain. If you could not feel pain then your hand would burn off on the burner on your stove as you spoke to your spouse about your teenagers’ recent fatal automobile accident. Feeling hysterically anxious is what motivates you to sit on the phone with the Microsoft technical support guy in India for 3 hours trying to get your new Compaq working again. It’s amazing that the minute your computer goes down you feel as though your life line to the world has been severed. How did humans live for 5 million years before Jesus without cell phones? How do you phone a tiger lunging for your 4 year old daughter in the jungle? Why do people think that drinking parasites in the Amazon jungle that give you life long dysentery is adventure? We are by nature racist vicious bigots. This is why our religions command us to kill everyone outside of our group for great eternal rewards in paradise with God and 72 virgins and wine with no side effects and raptures. Just be happy that you’re miserable. You don’t deserve to be.

Google Inc. is suing a Houston-based company for allegedly clicking on sponsored links to fraudulently boost advertising revenues.

Google filed a lawsuit two weeks ago in Santa Clara County Superior Court in California against Auctions Expert International LLC. Google is accusing Auctions Expert of abusing the Google AdSense program, in which web publishers display Google’s pay-per-click ads and receive a share of the revenues.

Auctions Expert joined AdSense in August 2003, according to the lawsuit. Google later discovered the alleged misconduct, terminating the contract between the companies and refunding advertisers, Google’s complaint states.

“These clicks were worthless to advertisers but generated significant and unjust revenue for Defendants who were paid by Google as if the clicks were legitimate,” the lawsuit states.

Google is seeking an unspecified amount of damages and restitution for the revenue-share payments it had made to Auctions Expert, according to the lawsuit.

Google spokesman Steve Langdon said that the Mountain View, Calif., company uses fraud detection technology to combat click fraud and protect advertisers.

“This lawsuit against Auctions Expert demonstrates the success of our anti-fraud system and that we will take legal action when appropriate,” he said in a statement.

Talk about your all-time wimpy statements. I’m not impressed. All Google did was exercise its right to file a lawsuit. The same right any of us have. Somebody shoot off the fireworks. Woo hoo! That’s some scary stuff right there!

I’m still waiting for Google to flex its considerable muscle. I want to hear a powerful statement from a powerful company. Something to the effect:

“Nothing is more important to us than our customers. They
helped make us who we are today, and we will not let them
down. We are determined to meet and defeat click fraud head
on–no matter how how long it takes or how much it
ultimately costs!”

But it will never happen. Why? Because despite its considerable power, Google is a lot like Michael Jackson in some ways. Let me explain:

At one time Michael Jackson was the biggest, most powerful star on the planet. However, as we soon discovered, he was also a wimp who was out of touch with reality.

I view Google the same way. Google is the biggest, most powerful search engine on the planet. But the way it’s handling click fraud is wimpish and shows it’s out of touch with reality also. These are criminals we’re talking about here. They’re not afraid of a silly lawsuit.

Google needs to get with the program and develop a “gangsta” attitude. Hold a worldwide press conference and tell these punk click fraud thieves in no uncertain hip hop terms:

“Yo, dog, let me holla at you for a second. We are Google, yo. We are the biggest, baddest, most powerful search engine on the planet, yo. Peep this: Do NOT steal from us or our homey’s, fool. Me and my posse have the means, the resources and the resolve to hunt you down like the punks you are 24, 7 and bust a cap in your ass! Peace…we out!”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dean Phillips is an Internet marketing expert, writer,
publisher and entrepreneur. Questions? Comments? Dean can be
reached at mailto: dean@lets-make-money.net
Visit his website at: http://www.lets-make-money.net

Palistinian President Mahmoud Abbas cleverly found a way to get a two-state resolution before the Palestinian people to move his agenda ahead while providing a way for Hamas to get off its hard-line hook

In an innovative and daring announcement, he said that if he could not reach an agreement with Hamas within ten days, he would put the referendum for a two-state solution of Palestine side-by-side with Israel before the Palestinian public, thus rejuvenating his own stymied agenda while providing a face-saving way for Hamas to slip off the hardline hook it has inserted in its own pants and get to the negotiating table.

No doubt his was prompted by the growing inability of his government to function without Western funding, as well as by Ehud Olmert’s announcement that Israel could not wait forever and would, if it could not negotiate with a credible Palestinian government, impose its own final borders.

But you still have to give the guy credit for his insight and daring.

We wish him well and, of course, safe passage among the ever treacherous and ultimately self-destructive holdouts who populate his surroundings.

Tom Attea, humorist and creator of NewsLaugh.com, has had six shows produced Off-Broadway and has written comedy for TV. Critics have called his writing “”delightfully funny” and “witty” with “good, genuine laughs.”