![]() ![]() Wonderful asks what they’re adding to the already electronic system in place that maintains records and allows patients to correspond by email. The hacking horror stories are as unlimited as the pickle girls’ potential. Realizing that communication in medicine is behind the technological times, what with doctors still refusing to text people that they’ve been diagnosed with a terminal disease, the guys developed this site that lets you post your ailment and thereby find a doctor to treat it. So no lettuce for the pickles.įollowing them are two doctors with the social media website for physicians and their patients, called Rolodoc. Babs says they don’t need any stinkin’ investors. They are obviously graduates of a charter school. The girls insist their potential is unlimited. Wonderful tells them they are not worth as much as they claim, and wonders if he wants pickles in his portfolio. That’s a pretty pricey pickle, a crazily costly cuke, a distressingly dear dill! Now Mr. The girls say their pickles are a gourmet, high-end, fancy-shmancy product that costs $7 a jar. They’re going to meet with Target, though. I do not believe WASPs can make good pickles, especially since they pronounce jalapeno as “hal-a-peeno.” They also don’t have enough inventory to grow the company, despite the fact that their product is basically a jar of water. ![]() Next we have two disturbingly cheerful girls, Lynnae and Ali, who run the gourmet pickle business. My heart is gladdened at all the money being made. Wonderful comes to visit them, joyful that they have paid back his investment in full. The show never tells us about the failures. Next, Scruffy needs to invent some deodorant that works.Īn update follows on some women who have a successful jarred cupcake company. An even shinier Scruffy refuses, and counters again. He’s willing to drop valuation to $5 million. His $300,000 for 10% is not acceptable, though. Robert makes an offer lower than the ask, also because he likes the concept and apparently believes his kids would enjoy sending him picture postcards of them eating caviar back at the mansion while he’s away. But she wants the message to be all in handwriting, because that’s more personal, as if “Having grt time–wish u were here” is so intimate. Babs likes the idea of a real postcard, though, because she’s old and probably also thinks you can phone the pictures in from your landline. And naturally, his numbers do not please any of the Sharks. Wonderful accuses an indignant Scruffy of not having a proprietary product. A better app would be one that sends a dead fish to someone you have a grudge against. Each card costs $2.49, which hardly seems worth it when you could just email the person your photo and tell them to print it out for free. If you don’t have the recipient’s address available, they have another feature that looks it up for you–without explaining how you determine whether it’s the right address if you’re sending your postcard to John Smith of Chicago. You download the app to your phone, take a photo, write a message, and sign it with your finger so it looks like it was sent by a stroke victim, then they take over and get it printed and mailed. ![]() His company is basically Facebook on cardstock. Postcard on the Run is presented by a scruffy guy who talks too fast. I can take a melon-baller to a Sara Lee just as easily as they can. The pitches tonight include a gourmet pickle outfit that uses a century-old secret family recipe, something I never understand because they have to print the ingredients on the label a mobile app by which you turn a photograph from your phone into a printed postcard that gets mailed right then, which is only going to be viable until the post office’s inevitable declaration of bankruptcy an online directory of medical professionals for patients that “allows for effective communication and rapid exchange of ideas,” which probably just means your doctor will now diagnose your pneumonia by Skype and the eyebrow-raisingly named Sweet Ballz, a “first of its kind company” that’s bringing cake balls to the mass market. Once again, lazy ol’ ABC is repeating an episode–actually two tonight, but I’m ignoring the 8 o’clock one because I had some lying around doing nothing to do.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |