Business for young ladies
Business for young ladies – Encyclopedia and a brief guide
You see a handsome bloke at a party. You come up to him and say, ‘I’m fabulous in bed!’
- - That’s direct marketing.
You come to a party with your friends and see a nice bloke. One of your friends comes up to him and says, ‘She’s fabulous in bed!’
- - That’s advertising.
You see a nice bloke at a party. You get up, adjust your clothes, come up to him and pour him a drink. You say, ‘Allow me’, come up closer to him to adjust his tie and at the same time touch his arm with your bosom, and then you say, ‘By the way, I’m fab in bed.’
- - That’s PR.
You see a nice bloke at a party. By means of cunning manipulations you organize fierce bickering among the present girls, but you yourself don’t take any part in it. After everybody’s shown all their negative traits, you say, ‘Let’s go away from here. By the way, I’m fab in bed’.
- - That’s dirty PR.
You see a nice bloke at a party. He comes up to you and says, ‘I hear you are fab in bed.’
- - That’s brand recognition.
You see a nice bloke at a party. You persuade him to go with your friend.
- - That’s trade representation.
Your friend doesn’t satisfy him, that’s why he phones you.
- - That’s technical support.
You see a nice bloke at a party, come up to him and say, ‘Do you remember how fab you had it in bed with my friend Connie? It’s I who taught her. Come with me!’
- - That’s leasing.
You see several nice blokes at a party. You write notes to all of them about how fab you’re in bed.
- - That’s direct mailing.
You come to a party, but there’s a crowd of pretty chicks there. You let a shoulder strap fall off your shoulder and say, ‘I’m fab in bed and I don’t ask for chocolates or champagne!’
- - That’s dumping.
You come to a party and say, ‘I’m fab in bed, and you’ll be the third guy for me tonight!’
- - That’s network marketing.
At a party you declare out loud at once, ‘Those interested in how good I’m in bed, follow me!’ and take them to another party.
- - That’s positioning.
You haven’t gone to the party at all, but everybody there is speaking about how good you’re in bed.
- - That’s a well spinned-out trade mark.
You’ve come to a party with your friends and see a nice guy. You come up to him and say your name is Connie. Everybody knows how fabulous it’s to be in bed with Connie. At the same time Connie knows you’ve posed as her. And she gets a chocolate for that.
- - That’s franchising.
You’ve come to a party with your friends and see a nice guy. You come up to him and say you are fab in bed. You leave the party with him. In the morning he says he’s not quite satisfied with you.
- - That’s notice of faults (reclamation).
You’ve come to a party with your female friends; you see a nice guy. Each of you tells him how cool she’s in bed and what she wants to get for it.
- - That’s an invitation of bids (tender).
You’ve come to a party with your friends and see a nice guy. You come up to him and say you’re fab in bed. You leave the party with him. In the morning he gives you champagne, but no chocolate.
- - That’s credit (accounts due from customers).
You are making yourself ready for a party, and your friend’s already there distributing handouts which describe how good you’re in bed.
- - That’s distribution of a press-release.
You come to a New Year party and see a crowd of handsome blokes, say that sleeping with you costs five chocolate bars and three bottles of champagne. By the end of the party you sozzle yourself senseless and wake up with some creep in your bed…
- - That’s seasonal sales.
You come to a party and see a handsome bloke. You come up to him and say you are fab in bed. You leave the party with him. You come home with him, but your husband’s there. The nice bloke leaves without accomplishing anything, you get a sock in the eye.
- - That’s force majeure.
You come to a party, announce it’s really chic with you in bed and that it costs three chocolate bars and a bottle of champagne, but the man who does it five times a night with you will have it just for one chocolate bar.
- - That’s a wholesale discount.
You come to a party and tell everyone you are fab in bed. In a couple of days all the guys from the party encounter each other in a dermatovenerologic dispensary.
- - Those are victims of unscrupulous, malevolent and dishonest advertising.
You come to a party and say how chic you’re in bed. A couple of powerful-looking chicks roll over to you and say, ‘We agree to 30% chocolate and 40% champagne a month. Or else you have problems!’
- - That’s criminal protection racket.
You come to a party and tell the five guys present there that if each of them will tell five of their friends that you’re fab in bed, and those ones will say the same to five of their pals, they can have you for free. When a half of the whole country is dreaming about how good you’re in bed, you throw everyone and disappear nobody knows where.
- - That’s a con.
You come to a party, say how chic you’re in bed, but nobody wants you. Some shout ‘Too expensive!’, others heard from the guys they know that you aren’t that good in bed after all, some others haven’t finished being treated from the previous time. Then you beat it to the nearest Tunbridge Wells and trundle to a party there. Everybody wants you there, swamp you with presents and want to know you better.
- - That’s regional work.
At a party you see a nice bloke, come up to him and say, ‘Hi! You know the kind of dream I had this night? I’m lying on silk sheets steaming with desire, but not a single man is left on the Earth! And nobody needs all my knowledge of Kama Sutra any more! Can you imagine how horrible it can be? Would you like to get a couple of lessons from me?
- - That’s creative approach.
To be the best, you sneak peek after your female friends retiring somewhere quiet with their guys.
- - That’s industrial spying.
You come to a party together with Connie (you have a chic behind, she has a chic rack). You announce your terms to all the guys: we’re together.
- - That’s strategic partnership.
You borrow your friend’s dress and a little makeup, promising to give her every second chocolate that you earn during the party.
- - That’s a joint-stock company.
You’re ugly and nobody wants to see you. But! Father pays for a party: there’s a crowd of people and everybody wants you.
- - Those are state subsidies.
You’ve become an old raddled hag. But from time to time you find in your letterbox a dried up chocolate bar.
- - That’s pension.
You come to a party, don’t dance, don’t laugh, don’t care a darn about anybody, wash your hands in the bowl with champagne cocktail, knock down the candles stuck in the cake. But all the guys watch you with lust all the same.
- - That’s the leading position in the market.
Everybody has known for a long time how good you’re in bed. And then you start a rumour that you’re a magnificent cook, too.
- - That’s seizing new markets.
You’ve come to a party with your friends and see a nice bloke. You come up to him and say how cool it’s to be in bed with you and that you’re ready to sleep with him for two bottles of champagne and three chocolate bars. He agrees to pay only one bottle of champagne and two chocolates, because the host of the party said that it’s inadmissible to ask more for such services.
- - That’s the state regulation of prices.
You come to a party, and everybody begins asking you interrupting each other, ‘Is it true that you’re fab in bed?’ You can see by their raunchy snoots they know it without you answering. You keep up meaningful silence while your bestie Connie is sitting smugly in a corner, gobbling up your chocolates washing them down with champagne.
- - That’s a planned leak of secret info.
You come to a party, see an awesome guy, come up to him and say, ‘Let’s go upstairs, I’m fab in bed.’ And he says, “I can’t, cos I love boys.’
- - That’s the wrong choice of the target group.
In the evening, getting ready for a party, you notice some new wrinkles around your eyes, and the first signs of cellulite appear on your thighs. You realize that no one’ll give you more than two chocolate bars.
- - That’s depreciation, darling!
You leave the party with a nice bloke and you give yourself to him right there, in your friend’s car, knowing full well that your friend’ll only ask for one chocolate bar for it.
- - That’s an offshore zone.
You give yourself to everybody for chocolates and champagne, after which you pass on the wages of sin to your friend, who brings it all to your flat, and your husband and you eat and drink it.
- - That’s whitewashing the capital.
You come to a party, all pretty, sexy and attractive. You tell everybody how fab you are in bed. You’re sure you’re the best! You’re ready to give yourself to a good guy quite inexpensively. But all the good guys have been snatched up by some ugly grumblers who pump out dough from them.
- - That’s market economy, baby!
