Not Totally Inept

Breath-takingly insightful, if you're really dumb.

Friday, June 02, 2006

As usual, today's post is equal to the U.S. Constitution in terms of overall importance, so stow the attitude for once, and I'll let you in on some explosive new ideas. The most recent is the mathematical mind-bender that 40 is the new 30. By logistical extrapolation, and an ability to count using smaller numbers, 30 would be the new 20. That just makes sense, right? I have another idea. It is my contention that 30, instead of being the new 20, is actually the new flail-about-wildly until something sort of interesting happens.

Now in case anyone thinks these latest ruminations are related to me not having a new job yet, think again. In fact, here's a message to all who may be further along career-wise than I: I'm not impressed. Honestly, a homeless person could do better. I could too, but it's just not my focus right now. Since my career is now nearly at its apex (see: nadir), my focus is on giving back to the community, in the form of job-finding advice.

The first thing to remember about finding a job is that the task is infinitely less bothersome if your father is a billionaire and majority owner of a bunch of companies. If that's the case, walk into your dad's office, and spout off something about wanting a "job". It is absolutely vital that air-quotes are used when saying the job word. Your father needs to understand that you're mainly interested in the money aspect, and not in any of the parts that may involve working, or having to go to the bank in order to cash a paper paycheck. Direct deposit should be set up immediately, and there can be no negotiating on this point.

If your dad wishes to withhold what's rightfully yours, let him know gently but firmly that he is now (and for the remainder of human time) outside the family circle. There is a family circle of trust, which he has broken by refusing to nurture your free-spirited instincts. More than likely, though, your father is a Floor Supervisor at Circuit City, which means you don't have to worry about any of that. That's right. Life is hard, and I will not sugarcoat it for you. No, it shouldn't be so hard, but that's like saying there shouldn't be any death, or stabbing of people you don't like, or saying, "hey, no dying", after you stab a person. So obviously, there is death, many of those by stabbing. Everybody should get used to it. Secondly, the last time I tried to find a job, I ended up with the one I have now. With absolutely no reservations, I have classified this most recent job-finding endeavor under "abject failure." I guess that's not so much advice as it is straight biographical info, but there it is anyway.

Most vexing though, is that every time I turn around, someone offers me this little pearl of wisdom: You need to "sell yourself", they say. Well I've got news for everyone, the ladies in particular: This body is not for sale. Never has been, and likely never will, unless the woman is attractive and the price is right. Another reason I would never compromise my high moral standing is that of simple pragmatism. Most streetwalkers have little to no medical benefits. Couple that with the high probability of attaining an unseemly infection of the nether regions, and you can see why Pretty Woman was so difficult to edit. Once they cut out all the scenes with doctor visits in them, the movie was only 26 minutes long. You should see the director's cut though, it's gritty.

On the plus side, I had an interview at United Way about 2 weeks ago. They haven't called back yet, but this is likely due to the complex deliberations which arose when most of the higher-ups thought I should have a 1 square acre office, and some other stupid people thought it should only be one-half acre. Those people will certainly be fired upon my arrival. Although I probably won't be at the office all that much.

Used the air-quotes. Suckers.