Are you stuck in a dead-end job? Are working in an area you didn’t go to school for and feel desperate for change? Do you ever have that not-so-fresh feeling in your secret spot? Well, today I’m here to help you go over your career options because like you, I found myself living a lie. I was working at the corporate headquarters of a major company, and my future was looking bright. I was getting promotions and raises due to my willingness to dress really slutty for the managers in my sector. But I didn’t feel content with my lot. I always longed to do something else with my life, like be a roadie for a rock n’ roll band. You know, haul the amps, stock the band’s trailer with water, clean rock star vomit, and get sloppy seconds with the groupies. But unfortunately, I had many physical obstacles in the path of becoming a roadie, such as not being able to lift the heavy equipment required for the job, as my arms are really just glorified lo mein noodles. This put an end to my wish, and if we learned anything from the life of Christopher Reeve, it’s to give up your dreams before your heart stops working. So I signed up for DeVry and smoked a lot of pot in the parking lot during the class breaks, and now I post on the Internet. But fear not, it might not be too late for you.
I am fully qualified to give advice on this matter as I am well experienced in all fields of labor, mainly due to the fact that I’ve been working non-stop since the age of 12, and moved from job to job because I would always end up punching out obnoxious customers and hiding them in an empty box on the dock to be shipped next day air to Cambodia. Let me be your Internet career counselor, and leave your shaky future in my capable, semen-encrusted hands as we take a look at your realistic job options.
"Can I please have a chair?"
Help Desk/IT Lackey
Chances are that most of the people reading this are computer geeks who work in an IT or support related field. Anybody who’s ever had to explain anything technical over the phone to a angry, swearing, totally clueless southern yokel has been through more mental anguish than a POW in a Shanghai prison camp, and anybody that has done it for over a year will be completely broken in mind and spirit. While I must admit it's not as straining as loading bags of fertilizer onto trucks, the mental effects of this type of job are long-lasting and maybe even permanent. I’ve seen boys who are barely old enough to shave get bombarded with hour-long tech calls from French Canadian customers all day long. I once saw a large bear of a man get viciously berated by an irate customer over the phone and break down into teary mess. One day while I was tending the call queue, shells came raining down out of nowhere and the guy in the cubical next to me had his arms blown off and cried for his mama all night long until he finally died of his wounds.
It is a war of logic vs. anti-logic, and the poor nerds recruited are on the front lines, growing ever more weak with each drawn out tech call that ends up just being unplugged equipment. You may never grow calluses on your hands from hard labor, but the calluses on your soul will remain to the end of your days. You work hard and give it all to your company, but your only reward is your job being replaced by Asian and Indian children all working inside a large dome underneath the sea while a starfish with a whip drives them into overtime, but then they are rescued by a dashing archeologist riding a seahorse that’s being chased by Nazi subs. Oh shit I gave away spoilers to the new Indiana Jones movie. Sorry.
No physical labor.
You can read comedy websites while getting paid.
Free coffee unless your company is really cheap.
Flash tank game.
Office antics, like “sodomize the newbie”.
The hold button, so you can go into the bathroom and slit your wrists.
Dealing with stupid people.
Damaged eyesight from looking at screens all day.
People reciting lines from Office Space.
Outsourcing to terrorist training camps.
Cancer from printer toner, air conditioning, and Cheetos dust.
Git in ze Piggly Wiggly!
I don’t know anybody that has never worked retail at some point in their life. Whether it is a supermarket, music store, or Best Buy, the lure of the 5% employee discount on merchandise lures many unsuspecting youths to their doom. Once while I was fresh out of school and down on my luck, I accepted a position at a supermarket greeting people. For two whole days, or 16 hours, I stood there, being paid to say hello to people. I looked across the store to the other greeter and saw that it was middle-aged retarded man named Cecil. After the first four hours I found a chair instead of standing, and after the first six hours I stopped saying hello and just sat on a chair in the entrance while people passed me by. After the second day, I gave up on life and sat on my chair drunk and hurling insults at the incoming customers. The final straw was when Cecil, the kindly fellow with Downs, was made my supervisor and corrected me for not "greeting" people while working as a greeter. I threw my work vest in his face and vowed never to work retail or say hello again.
Working as a greeter is pretty rare though, and probably the most common retail job is working as a cashier. This is very boring and grueling work. I was a cashier at Target when I was 15 and countless suburban moms would haggle over Snackwells prices and get me in trouble by telling my manager that I called them "a dirty whore" after ringing up their KY Jelly. In retail it's all about pleasing the customers. Furthermore, many stores stopped calling them customers, and starting using the term “guests”. I don't know about you, but when I have guests over at my house I don't expect them to bring their snotty children who will rip open packets of candy while screeching, steal a ham by putting it in your pants, or take a dump in the middle of the floor. I would go so far to call these people "intruders" and shoot them in self-defense. Probably the only thing worse than a retail job is a food service job or being a website administrator.
Store discount.Free credit card numbers from purchase receipts.
Going to the pet department and watching the guinea pigs frolic on your break.
Shopping cart battles.
Dealing with stupid people.
Not allowed to put fuzzy stickers on your nametag.
Blue light specials.
"I'll get your goddamn fries after my break, ok fatty?"
Only if you are blind, deaf, homeless, and an illegal immigrant should you be working at a fast food restaurant. Even then, stealing from fruit stands would be a more respectable way to make a living. My only food service experience was working for a month at a thoroughly rotten establishment called “Old Country Buffet”. It was there that I saw the true face of man, and knew in my heart that our kind was doomed. Never before have I seen such disgusting practices that go on everyday behind the scenes of the food industry, but the customers were even more revolting. One chair was not enough to support the carriage of many folks who waddled in and heaped piles of food onto their plate. As a busboy I tried to keep their tables free of used plates but soon there were leaning towers of plates on every table that I couldn’t keep up with. I stumbled and fell, the plates crashing to the ground, my blood soaking the gravy stained carpet as the flabby beasts all around me laughed through mouthfuls of mashed potatoes and my Scottish manager screamed at me in his heathen dialect. It really wasn't worth the $4.75 per hour.
Free blood from the meat carcass bags.
Day old Timbits if you work at Tim Hortons
Dealing with stupid people.
Unsanitary work environment.
Getting stabbed by the short order cook in a heated discussion about Yoda’s powers.
Fatty fat fat fats.
"This is awesome."
When I was three years old, my mother asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her I wanted to be a horsey, but she just laughed at me and said, "Don't be silly dear". After she told my father what I said, he took it a little more seriously than her and had a talk with me. I was ordered to give up these dreams of becoming a horsey, for he wanted me to be a famous and renowned doctor that would someday cure male pattern baldness. I told him I would, but in my tiny heart I kept the hope alive that I would someday be a horsey and run away from this terrible place. Well I'm proud to say that I have fulfilled this burning desire and I do work part time as a horsey, unless there is bad weather or it’s hay fever season.
You get to romp in grassy meadows.
Stupid people sitting on your back.
The glue factory.
For those of you who are looking for more adventure, excitement, and third degree burns, being a fireman might be the right choice for you. Granted you have to climb ladders and shit, but you get a really cool uniform and can shoot the fire hose through windows. I was really thinking about leaving my computer job to go battle evil fires in the heart of my city, but I wrinkle easy and couldn't make the cut. I also thought it would be just like the movie "Backdraft" and you would have sex on top of a fire truck, but then there would be a real fire and the truck would pull out with you still naked on the top. We sometimes have to remind ourselves that the movie industry may make some jobs look a lot better than they really are.
Chicks dig firemen.
You get to go down the pole.
Cons:Internet comedy writer Zack Parsons playing "Stairway to Heaven" in his basement.
Saving stupid people.
WTC falling on you.
Internet Comedy Writer
In these dark times of economic hardships, you sometimes have to do things what would normally go against your set of morals and personal pride. When your grandmother needs her medicine, and your 10 kids are rolling around the ground clutching their malnourished bellies, it's more important to get a paycheck anyway you can rather than worry about what people are going to think about you. Sure being an Internet comedy writer may not be the most noble way to make money but it beats being a stockbroker or working at the renaissance festival. Since the dark secret was out that I worked nights as an Internet comedy writer, my family stopped inviting me to Thanksgiving dinner, my credit rating plummeted, and my library card was cut into pieces in front of my face. I keep telling myself I'm just going to do this until something better comes along, but it's been almost two years now. I'm just crossing my fingers that Arby's calls me back. I would rather work with roast beef than Greasnin any day.
Dealing with stupid people.
Lowtax calling me at home and threatening myself and my loved ones.
Sexual harassment by Livestock.
Forced to be funny even if you are a drunken manic-depressive and your hamster hates you.
Ok maybe you should just keep your job and not listen to me. For somebody that has been fired as much as I have, I might not be such a good source of career advice. All I can say is to follow your heart, and don't be afraid to borrow money from your parents or sleep on their couch until you are 30. There is nothing wrong with taking your time to find out what you really want to do, and if you have to sell some crack or suck some cocks to get by, it ain't no thang. Peace kids.
This isn't about harassment. It's about ethics in cat journalism.
Can you please give Golgura a trophy? How about Tallest Monster? I speak not for Golgura now. He is stepping on us villagers out of anger. In his wisdom he has flattened my son.
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