Iraqi Secret

Anytime. Anywhere. Anyplace.

The choice is obvious. Unless you are a complete
moron, you always bet on a guy who "walks-the-walk" instead of some
lame dipshit who just "talks-the-talk". And, when it comes to
copywriting... I'm the one who "walks-the-walk"... and... walks it
best! I'm the only teacher in the world who has been hanging out in the
"biker bars of marketing" for more than 30 years... and... who is
always ready and willing to prove he is the best copywriter who ever
lived.

Anytime. Anywhere. Anyplace.

Do you have the guts to go into the baddest "biker
bars of marketing" with me? I'm NOT going to lie and tell you it's
going to be easy. I'm NOT going lie and tell you it's not going to be
scary...

It
is NOT easy. It IS scary. It'll jolt the hell out of you. But if you
have the "heart" for it.

You
Can Achieve Total Financial Freedom

For The Rest Of Your Life!

You
can get everything you need in the way of "equipment" from your local
drug store for $1.39. (I actually went out and priced it.) You can, if
you choose, work at home from your kitchen table. You can live anywhere
you want. You can make huge amounts of money in a remote
"Unabomber-type" cabin, a motor home, a boat... or... a mansion (you'll
be able to afford one)... or... a more conventional type "normal"
office. It just doesn't matter.

Best
of all, you will never have to kiss anybody's ass for money... ever
again

Listen up: A long time ago, I met a
man I thought I despised. I was in the Army in Fort Knox, Kentucky in
basic training. He was a little Puerto Rican guy and he was my platoon
sergeant. He was very unfair to me. Once, we were going
through tear gas training and my mask slipped off and I got sick.
During the march back to camp, I felt so bad, I fell down. I figured my
sergeant would tell some of the other guys to hold me up and help me
make it back.

However, he didn't "exactly" do
that. No, instead he yelled to the other guys... "Don't
stop for him! Walk right over him! Kick him as you go by! KICK HIM!"

I
got up and made it all by myself.

He hardly
ever let me get any sleep either. Maybe an average of three hours per
night. He made me the "goat" of the platoon. I got all the shitty
assignments. No matter how bad I felt, how little sleep I got, he just
kept pushing... pushing... and pushing me. I can still remember him
yelling at me right after I'd field-stripped my M1 rifle (that dates
me, doesn't it?) and was having trouble putting it back together.