Cut the crap. Basically, that’s been my commercial mantra since setting out on this sole trading malarkey two years ago (two whole years and not bankrupt yet, whew). Tell it like it really is in small business – highs and lows, warts and all – that was the simple objective for this commerce confessional. I
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Tag Archives: business
Who am I, exactly? What the hell am I doing? Nope, I’m not in the grip of some mind-bending existential crisis, no time for that, but I’ve been doing something of an entrepreneurial stocktake these last few weeks. And the bottom line is this. I’ve been kidding myself on, big style. Aye, it makes uncomfortable writing,
Photo courtesy Elaine Livingstone Photography Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the feministest of them all? Sorry sistas, but it’s certainly not me. Not this month, anyway. It pains and shames me to ‘fess up, but it looks like I might not register quite as highly on the sisterhood solidarity scale as I’d always
Open and transparent. That’s the Word Up code of small business conduct. Simples. And in these fevered post-General Election times, transparency is top of the charts, and not just for small fry like me. As a micro-business, my entrepreneurial empire operates at the tiddly widdly, teensy weensy end of the business spectrum, but I am
I am pure authentic, me. Really, I am. When it comes to small business, I am the real deal. I am 100% pure in heart, mind and practice. Except, of course, I’m not. What I am is 100% pure human business being – flaws, foibles, failings and all. If that makes me genuine and brimful
It’s not about the money, money, money… Well actually, it is. Profit margin matters. Make no mistake, bringing in the moolah is right up there on my personal and professional priority list. As I never tire of telling anyone who’s seriously thinking about joining the small business circus, you gotta be in it for love
I blame Lenin. Or maybe it was The Specials. It might have been The Catcher in the Rye, or even Marc Bolan’s ringlets and feather boa. It was definitely witnessing a queue of punks waiting to get into a gig at The Nashville in London in 1978. That alone was life changing. There was also David
Ecoutez, mes enfants. In other words, listen up kids. Cos here’s something a wee bit different from the Word Up blog HQ for the New Year. It’s not a blog as you know it, it’s a phog. Yep, a phog. See, I’ve been torn between writing up a storm about the merits of being a
A seasonal ditty to be sung to the tune of John Lennon’s Christmas classic “Happy Christmas (War is Over)”. Altogether now… So this is business And I’m about done Another year over Tax return still not begun And so this is business Not always much fun But my very own dear one Sometimes tricky to
There’s something to be said for the heavy artillery of a weather bomb. The explosive effects of this week’s hoolies and skin scouring hail showers certainly blasted this wee wordsmith into a wide-awake state. Maybe the air’s full of positive ions or sumfink, but I for one was well and truly invigorated by Mother Nature’s
