It’s funny: I originally wrote this article back in early-2013. A lot has changed since then.
Today is Friday, January 22nd, 2016… and you wanna know what my top MLM travel company is? It’s called: None Global. It’s free to join. And you get the ability to travel like a normal person, at normal prices, all over the world — with no restrictions, blackout dates, hidden fees or hypey compensation plan.
If you’re not picking up the sarcasm I’m laying down, I don’t recommend any MLM travel companies here in 2016. Or ever.
MLM, that’s why. The model is broke. It’s slow, saturated and slimy.
And I think it’s even worse in the travel and vacation space, where the “product” — usually some sorta vague “discount” — always seems super sketchy.
I looked into both Resorts 360 and Global Resorts Network back in the day and just couldn’t get past the fact that you were being asked to drop $10,000 (or more) to save a little on a buncha second-rate shacks in cool locations.
Not my thing. I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to Vegas, dammit, I wanna be right in the middle of the action. Not five miles off the strip.
Why would I go on vacation only to stay at some barely-discounted dive that’s not even as nice as my house?
Know what I’m saying?
Hey, if all you care about is pinching pennies, maybe there’s a network marketing travel deal out there for you. But I haven’t found it.
And I highly doubt that’s why you’re on Google, searching for the best multilevel marketing travel program, anyways.
Let’s be honest: nobody joining these things gives two shits about the product. It’s always just a coverup for a barely-legal business opportunity that’s marketed with hype and hope.
And what better niche to do it in than travel? Amiright?
Most sheeple join MLMs because of the allure of money and time freedom — so they can roam the globe and see the sights with their posse.
Creating a bogus vacation savings club, therefore, is the ultimate MLM product. It’s almost irresistible.
Gee, let’s see: you’re saying I can travel the world, for less; tell others about it; and get paid like a CEO to do so? “Oh, I’m SOOO in,” says the money-chaser.
All I’m saying is: bweh.
(I got nothing.)
If we’re in agreement that the above is unlikely, unethical and kinda stupid — and you’re ready to admit Santa’s not real, either — I’d like to invite you to come back to my place so we can get to know each other a little better.
Too creepy? Sorry. That didn’t come out right. In the most non-roofie-sort-of-way, I’m not ready for this blind date to be over.
Let’s keep hanging: