U Variety Store

A success story for free Zotrim pills?

Free Zotrim! Ah, the wonders of modern marketing! So, picture this: I’ve been religiously popping those Zotrim weight-loss pills for a few weeks, minding my own business, when lo and behold, I receive an email that practically screams, “Join our Hall of Fame, and we shall shower you with treasures!”

The email goes —

So if you’re delighted with Zotrim, they (and we!) want to know about it!

Share your story and as a thank you, we’ll give you…

One free box of Zotrim when you send us your written success story (2-3 paragraphs works best)

Three free boxes of Zotrim when you send us your written story and picture showing off your weight loss, or a photo of you holding a box of Zotrim (we know that not everyone’s goals are the same, so if you didn’t use Zotrim with the specific goal of losing weight, please send us a picture of a smiley, happy you with a box of Zotrim!

Twelve free boxes of Zotrim (yep, an entire year’s supply!) if you’re brave enough to send us your before and after pictures or a picture of you holding a box of Zotrim AND a video of yourself talking all about your Zotrim success story! ” —

The promise of a free Zotrim

They dangle a single box of Zotrim like a carrot on a stick, and all you have to do is pen down a little tale of your journey to success. “Just two or three paragraphs,” they say, as if writing a Shakespearean masterpiece was that easy. But wait, it gets better! Send them a pic of yourself flaunting your weight loss, or simply grinning like a maniac with a box of Zotrim in hand, and they’ll magnanimously grace you with not one, not two, but three free boxes. Hooray for capitalism’s generosity!

Now, if you’re feeling particularly brave, and by brave, I mean ready to embarrass yourself on the internet, they’ll throw in a whole year’s supply of Zotrim. Yep, twelve boxes! All they ask for are your “before and after” shots or a video where you blabber on about your Zotrim saga. But let’s be real, who in their right mind wants to share their awkward before photos or risk having a cringe-worthy video circulating on the interwebs?

So, naturally, I opt for the easy way out, snap a pic holding a box of Zotrim, and send it off into the digital void. Lo and behold, a confirmation email arrives, promising three glorious boxes of caffeine-infused happiness. I’m on cloud nine, right? Wrong!

Where is my Zotrim?

Well, folks, the saga continues! Remember those promised free Zotrim bottles, the ones I was practically promised would descend from the heavens in a glorious cascade of weight-loss wizardry? Well, hold onto your hats, because they’re still enjoying a world tour in some mysterious warehouse, far, far away. We’re now talking 30 days and counting of my poor caffeine-deprived self staring at an empty mailbox.

It’s like my free Zotrim is on an epic quest, traversing jungles, scaling mountains, and crossing oceans, all while I sit here in my PJs, growing more skeptical by the second. Has anyone else embarked on this wild ride of anticipation, only to feel like they’ve been bamboozled by the marketing gods?

I must admit, this ordeal has me questioning if I’m caught in some bizarre, modern-day fable where the moral of the story is “Don’t trust emails promising freebies.” The saga continues, my friends, and as I sit here, slightly bewildered and caffeine-deprived, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve unintentionally joined a global support group of folks who were promised free stuff and are now collectively scratching their heads, thinking, “Did I just get scammed?”

Take me home.