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I’m kind of a douchebag

Don’t look at me like that

July 23, 2011

When I was younger, maybe from about age seven to age thirteen, I would wish for two main things. A wallet that dispensed endless cash and some sort of something – potion, incantation, electric shock, whatever – that would make me irresistible to all boys. Of course, neither materialized. I had to settle for middle class luxuries like name brand cereal and a garishly pink, phone-shaped phone book – get it – sparsely populated with the numbers of boys who didn’t want me to call.

Fast forward about twelve years and things are a little different. I’m nowhere close to having that wallet, although steady income is certainly close enough for me. As for being irresistible, well, that’s debatable.

I mean, I did just hear from a guy who begged to eat my pussy, cancelled a month-long road trip because he was scared I’d find someone else, and thought I was so ‘amazing’ that someone must be playing a joke on him. All after meeting me once. More than two weeks after rejecting him on all fronts, I wake up to this text:

“It’s Chris. I’d like to see you again. You can be straight up with me and say no. I understand. That’s life but I don’t think we gave each other a chance.”

I think I’ll stop wishing for that potion now.

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Awfully Wedded Husband

March 29, 2011

If you’ve ever wondered what it looks like for a grown woman to stage a wedding for her cats and stuffed animals, offer them a round of alcohol (Pepsi) and then encourage them to “make babies” then your day just got way better.

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I didn’t go to Stanford but I had lunch with someone who did

February 17, 2011

I like sandwiches. I would do almost anything for a sandwich. I know this, because I pretty much did a few days ago.

I regularly make the mistake of assuming that other people are like me. This is most likely why I never talk to anyone because they’ll probably just end up droning on about different kinds of buttercream frosting and then force me to talk about my feelings. I hate that.

But I make mistakes. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have these callouses all over my tongue from eating pizza the moment it leaves the oven. So I agreed to meet up with a guy from Funny or Die for lunch. And before you ask me if Will Ferrell really is that tall, no, not him. The guy I met up with just mails out t-shirts and promotional stickers. Standards.

Strike One: I see him approaching the previously agreed upon sandwich shop and instantly know it’s him because he looks like a less attractive version of his Twitter avatar. He walks past me and I introduce myself and he treats me like I’m some random fan who wants to gush about how magical it is that he can turn an empty envelope into one with a keychain inside and then mail it to someone in Ohio. Sure, he probably gets that all the time but come on.

Strike Two: He orders before me and I know that sounds rude but he went to Stanford so inflated ego before beauty, I guess.

Strike Three: He mentions that he went to Stanford and that he played football for Stanford maybe twelve times. I mean, my math isn’t so great because I didn’t go to Stanford but he did so you’ll have to ask him and maybe if he’s not too busy going to Stanford, he can give you a real answer. Stanford.

Strike Four: When he ran out of ways to mention how he went to Stanford and I started talking about screenwriting, he said that writing on spec was a lot like playing the lottery. Yeah, just like going to Stanford is like a guarantee that you won’t be the mail boy for a website that may as well be called AOL Email Forwards or Die.

But enough about that. Here’s a basic summation of my experience.

HAHA, SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR RIBS BECAUSE THEY JUST GOT TICKLED TO DEATH.

Look, I know what you’re thinking and yes he is a really funny guy who is not at all painfully insecure with jokes mostly about rape peppered with refreshing bursts of racism. So you can’t really blame me for agreeing to meet him for lunch. How do you pass that up?

Aside: Okay, honestly I never paid attention to his feed until after the fact at which time I looked kind of like this:

And maybe this is one of those Chicken Soup for the Soul things where I’m the asshole because he has some sort of Social Anxiety By The Way Stanford Disorder. But if you’re going to waste my time by talking about how you’re some sort of Kerouacian artist because you used to be a sports writer in Montana and then talk about how you just came from the gym no big deal and then talk about Stanford until your face turns cardinal red and then talk about playing football for Stanford, sorry, I’m going to assume that your penis can only be seen through an electron microscope.

There was some hesitation while writing this because he offered to look at my content and maybe post it on Funny or Die as long as it was in the hilarious and not at all trite list format. I suppose now that’s out of the question. But losing out on an opportunity to be on a website that didn’t even go to Stanford sounds like a bad deal anyway.

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Nailed it

October 6, 2010

I don’t know how to build a website from scratch. I don’t know how to cut hair. I hardly even know how to change the oil in my car.

But I can write. That’s my own fault. Because writing, I’ve learned, is about as valued as being able to cry during a Pixar film. And generally, that’s okay with me. Writing is the only way I know how to make sense of myself and hopefully in the process, make at least one other person feel a little less alone. I’m glad to give that away for free. But since I’ve never gotten away with using good vibes to pay my student loans, I still find myself trying to make a living out of it. I trudge through (and respond to) shameful postings willing to eventually pay what amounts to about a cup of coffee a week in order to turn a movie idea into a screenplay. I’ve applied to dozens of startups in Silicon Valley, either legitimately or by crossing a few lines and digging up contact information of recruiters. I’ve personally delivered cookies and milk to Yelp, in hopes of snagging a job paying less than $30,000 per year.

And I do it because I’m desperate. I’m hesitant to admit that because no one wants to associate with desperation. It’s like driving behind a car that has smoke billowing from whatever part I likely mistook for the oil filter. It’s a sign of being somehow broken or even worse, contagious. But I’ve found that being on the verge of starring in my own remake of Falling Down is incredibly liberating. At the very least, it has allowed me to lose on my own terms. Which is why I recently chose to use some of my vitriol on Mahalo and apply to be their next Editorial Assistant. Founded by former CEO of Weblogs, Inc and current Gerber Baby Jason Calacanis, Mahalo has provided the internet with something it never needed and certainly never asked for – a more cluttered version of Yahoo Answers but with coupons.

Their posting looks like it was written by Jeff Spicoli. And while I can (kind of) respect them for sticking to their brand, it still remains that the lifeblood of their business is bullshit. I’ve offered my own translations in green text:

Mahalo.com, one of the hottest startups on the planet right now (and in the Top 200 websites) [Planets are fucking huge] , is seeking hardworking, quality writers to act as a temporary, full-time Editorial Assistants in their Community and Editorial teams. As an EA, you will work alongside Mahalo’s Editorial team to create engaging, original content [Red Lobster coupons] for our topic pages and Q&A platform. Stellar writing skills/grammar/attitude is a must [They sure is]. The position is currently listed as temporary full-time (1-2 months), but the gig may be extended and any awesome people already on board will be welcome to stay on the team (or even have a chance to hop up the ranks).

Mahalo – well-funded by the same people that backed Google, Yahoo, YouTube and Paypal [Not at all funded by Google, Yahoo, YouTube and Paypal] – is one of the very best starting places you can imagine for any topic [Hopefully you can't imagine many topics], and we’re looking for people who are excited and eager to write and learn.

At the top of the list of “required qualifications” are…
–Be a really good writer, period. Solid spelling, grammar, punctuation, flow, etc. [Randomly quote things like "required qualifications"]
–Be a samurai. Debbie-downers, or “Eeyores” as we call them, will be immediately eaten by superior warriors within the office. We like to have fun here, and want you to have fun, too. [Be into cosplay]
–Be a cool person [Listen to Vampire Weekend] that can carry on a conversation [Watch Jersey Shore] and have fun with others while working like a mad man/woman. We work in an open and equal environment, so communication is key.
–Be able to think quickly and creatively on your feet. If I tell you I need 100 page-title ideas or questions about “baby food” in 10 minutes, can you come up with them? (This will probably happen so, seriously … could you?)

Extra Brownie Point Qualifications/Experience include:

  • Specialized writing/research degrees (Journalism, English, Communications etc) [BA in Communications etc most preferred]
  • SEO [Have a Google Analytics account]
  • Online Writing/Research [Have an email account]
  • Social/Online Media [Have a Facebook account]

Are you the perfect fit for the gig? Then here’s what you’ve been waiting to hear:
– $10/hr, 40 hours a week (slightly flexible, but must be b/t 9am-7pm)
– Laid-back environment [We let you wear jeans. Sometimes.]
– Optional Mahalo Fit Club/Tae Kwon Do three days a week at 6PM (free obviously). [Free...obviously]
– Healthy breakfast, lunch and mid-day Fruit Bowl service are provided daily (also free) [Del Monte in da house]
– Monthly Car Washes / Daily Laundry Service (yep … still free) [Good luck affording a car or clothes at $10 an hour]
– Being surrounded by some of the smartest, most experienced people in the online and/or startup world [We're so smart and experienced, we're in the online world and the startup world. Or maybe we're in the online world or the startup world. Choose whichever sounds more impressive.]

In a nutshell we’re looking for a rockstar writer [Know how to snort a line of transitive verbs?] that’s ready to work at a blazing pace [Have a computer] and take direction as well as they lead. It’s also a great opportunity to see and experience the life of a startup that’s absolutely killing it ["it" in this case is standing in the place of "the confidence of our investors"] in the online realm. Current Students/Recent Grads are encouraged to apply provided they can work the required hours.

This was my response:

Hi,

Usually when I see job postings promising to provide pizza money for Lord Byron-grade work, I ignore it. The chief reason for this is that it’s usually coming from a guy who wants to turn his idea about hamsters with speech impediments into the next Dan Brown novel so maybe $10 an hour is a fair wage for such low expectations.

But we’re talking about Mahalo here, which is apparently “well-funded by the same people that backed Google, Yahoo, YouTube and Paypal.” I’d suggest you hire the same person who wrote that clever and slightly evasive bit of name dropping, but they seem to have a fetish for incorrectly using “that” as a relative pronoun. Based on your demands for a “rockstar writer,” that individual is unfortunately a little more Phil Collins than Ozzy Osbourne.

So while a “Laid-back environment” is a quite impressive perk, it’s not nearly enough to compensate for the absolutely embarrassing wage you’re offering.

Please do get in touch. I look forward to hearing from you – I’m still not clear whether the “Monthly Car Washes” are for employees, or if I’m expected to put on my smallest bikini top and wash the cars myself so that I can at least have a chance at putting enough gas in my car to get to the rad Tae Kwon Do classes.

This time, it feels really good to lose one.

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