Job assassin juggernauts. Virtual vigilantes. Mediocrity murderers. Status quo slaughterers.

We’ve been called worse.

Brad here. I’ll go first. I was a pharmacist, believe it or not. After a few short months of pill pushing, I came to the profound realization: “Damn, this sucks.”

So I ventured online to do what every other psychologically unemployable twenty-something-year-old would do: Google ways to make money from home.

Despite failing my face off and wasting hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars, my laptop lifestyle obsession only ballooned.

And guess what? Like a loose slot machine, unwavering desire pays out.

I began smoking SEO like a wet cigarette and parlayed that search engine swagger into a multiple six figure super affiliate business.

Translation?

I ranked websites in Google and sold other people’s products and services in exchange for a commission. And I did most of it lounging by the pool.

At 31 years young, I kicked normalcy in the nuts, gave freedom a fist bump and entered into retirement.

[R.I.P. to my old mind-numbing pharmacy gigs with Walgreens and Express Scripts. You won’t be missed.]

Eminem Discovers 50 Cent

Contrary to popular belief, I did not find him in the club.

I was rapping my way to a comfy $35,000 per month when I first bumped into Dan online.

He was a former car salesman who was making about the same, but doing it much different: by generating online leads for local businesses.

His process? Fish sticks.

His ability to close deals? Tartar sauce.

A collaboration was cooking. It was like we were meant to work together.

The Jager to my bomb, dude’s skills complimented mine incredibly well.

Sign this cat to the record label. Right now.

Together? We bring you Job Killing.

Your metaphorical sanity condom, we’re here to protect you from going crazy in that cubicle, cupcake.

Burgers. We’re about to flip your shit and make you sit in it.

Faster than you can spell Mr. Snuffleupagus, I might add.

[R.I.P. to the lucky car lot that got fat off Dan’s hustle. He peed on your tombstone. I know. Classy, right?]

So Why Tell Anyone Else About This?

“If you’re already poppin’-bottles-kissin’-models, what’s the point of showing others your secrets?”

Valid question, Mr. Cynic.

A weird thing happens when you start crushing it: people beg you for help.

We’re not geniuses. Or saints.

All we did was fill a void in the marketplace.

So I’ll spare you the “we just wanna give back” bullshit.

Job Killing is enjoyable, yes, but it’s also lucrative. While we do it mostly for the money, there’s one big ol’ elephant-sized attribute that makes us unique:

No paradox of practice.

We make extra money from this project, not all of it. Gargantuan difference. We’re the anti-guru, dammit.

“Help, not hype.” That’s our motto.

(Aww, now isn’t that just the sweetest little statement?)

(Hey, wasn’t trying to be cute, but roll it into a ball, dip it in Ranch and eat it for all I care.)

Speaking of attitude, if we come off a bit cocky? It’s for good reason. Our shit works.

We know because we’re in the trenches, doing it OURSELVES every single day.

So do me a favor? Slip your anxiety a Xanax, tell it, “Bitch, be cool!” and hire the illest and realest 9 to 5 contract killers.

(Uh, that’d be us. Silly.)

http://jobkilling.com