
I recently applied to a digital ad agency and was given the assignment to sell something on Craigslist. Anything. Naturally, I sold two hours of my friendship.

I recently applied to a digital ad agency and was given the assignment to sell something on Craigslist. Anything. Naturally, I sold two hours of my friendship.

At this point, I think the music industry is the only institution that does not toss around the word “rockstar.” It seems harmless enough at first; “seeking rockstar waiter to work rockstar shifts in new rockstar restaurant.” Well guess what, kids — rockstar is codeword for “the worst position working the worst shift.” It’s the 5 a.m. shift in the back of the restaurant, where your main duties involve setting cockroach traps and de-greasing the soup pots. It’s the overnight shift at a deli, where you’re handed a shiv to protect yourself from irritable bums. There’s no rock and roll in the rockstar world. Pack up your bags and find another job, you’re going to burn out and fade away.
Put down your Starfleet badge and set your phasers to “bummer,” because Brand Ambassador isn’t nearly as glamorous as it sounds. Those days you think you’ll be in a large classroom, explaining the finer points of your company’s newest product, will actually be spent outside in the rain handing out flyers. That’s right. Brand Ambassador = Flyer goon. Sometimes, being in fresh air can have a cathartic effect on one’s brain. You get closer to mother nature, interact with other people, and will eventually grow to love the product they’re promoting. Just kidding. After the first hour, you’ll want to cut your own head off.
This position is the miserable wolf in a bummed sheep’s clothes. Compared to the people who posted this position, you’re mothafuckin’ Albert Einstein. Social Media Guru entails a work day explaining the ins and outs of Twitter and Facebook to a company way too out of touch to understand social media, let alone understand what a hashtag is and why it’s masquerading as a number sign. Those unaware of how to operate social media will be equally as ignorant as how often to post updates. So your days will be spent trying to fill your company’s “No Less Than 100,000 Tweets” quota.
So let’s call this employer Sheldon J. Montana. Sheldon was a real hot-shot in film school; he got straight A’s, was rarely late to class, and made a movie that did well in the festival circuit. He moved out to LA, bought large sunglasses, and started drinking kale on the reg. After a couple years of making bad movies Sheldon packed his bags and headed back east. He hits a midlife crisis. This is where you come in. The ad asks for an assistant to do some light filing and transcriptions, but pay no attention to this vague description. Sheldon has no filing to do, he wants you to write his movie. He’ll bleed you of ideas, yell at you when he finds no meaning in life and, if you’re hot, try to smash guts.
Did you apply to a company online? Did this company call you back seconds after receiving your resume and drill you with questions? Did they skirt around explaining what they actually do? Is their corporate office located above a happy-endings massage parlor? Did you fill out a badly photocopied application when you stepped into the waiting room? Was their waiting room filled with a bunch of people who looked like you, except more confused? Does their waiting room double as a kitchen? Does their kitchen double as a bathroom? It’s a trap. Go home.
(for Thoughtcatalog.com)
The Birthday Guy came to work again. I think he’s an adjunct IT assistent or something…I never bothered to ask, plus discussing money makes me uncomfortable. He’s nice, because he keeps fixing my mouse and doesn’t look at me in the eyes. I feel badly—it’s always his birthday and no one ever sings to him.
Nick, the mean fiddler, fiddled a wonderful sound.
When he furiously fiddled, people stopped all around.
They gave him their love, attention, and care,
and gasped at the sight of his long luscious hair.
When a pretty young lady saw Mean Nick play,
she threw him her panties and fawned Nick all day.
She asked him for drinks and homemade cherry pie.
but he laughed in her face and said: “eat shit and die.”
I REALLY don’t know why I was expecting anything else when I clicked a post that read “In search of Bill Cosby look-alike”
Cupcake i missed you so. -w4m- (By the bridge)
i want to smell you.
lay your head on me, and i’ll massage your shoulder.
i want to cook for you and make you feel real good.
I FUCKING MISS YOU SO MUCH CUPCAKE,
a gal can’t take it.
WTF…
I know you’ll see this punkass, cause I know what’s on your wrist.
Welcome home.
By now, everyone on tumblr and their mother has seen the following quote:
“We can’t jump off bridges anymore because our iPhones...