10 THINGS NOT TO SAY TO YOUR UNEMPLOYED FRIEND

There are two things worse than being unemployed: being diagnosed with a terminal disease and losing a close friend or family member.  I'm lucky to say that myself and those around me are healthy, at least physically.  Mentally I could use a little help...

I'm somewhat of an expert in being unemployed.  There was that whole time when I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life so I was more looking for temporary jobs than real ones (mostly because no one would offer me a real one with an out-of-date advertising degree and a law license in another state), then there's now - the "post-graduate-school-job-search" unemployment.  My daily life is spent on the computer, filling out form after form of shit that is on the resume I uploaded but the company wants me to take the time to fill it out AGAIN.  It is not a good life.  It is a shitty, shitty life where you have to ask other people for money (my parents) and generally feel terrible about how much of a complete failure you have become.

So to make my life a tiny bit less shitty, let's agree that we should not ask the following questions:
 
"So, how's the job search going?" - Um, fucking terrible, thank you for asking.  I literally have nothing in my life but searching for jobs, asking for jobs, or talking about jobs I'm applying for, so if I don't bring it up, it's probably NOT GOING TOO WELL.  People like to share good news.  I am one of those people.  When I get an interview, since it's such a rare occasion, I blast that news all over social media and hire a plane to fly a banner.  So if I don't bring up some lovely tidbit about how I got a lead on a job or had an interview or someone called me, ASSUME IT'S NOT GOING WELL.

"Have you heard from Company X?"  Once again, do you think I'd keep it from you if I'd just been hired?  NO.  I would probably incite a riot with glitter and unicorns and trombones so that the entire city of LA would know I was newly employed with Company X.  OH, I FORGOT TO MENTION, I GOT A JOB, SINCE I'VE BEEN SO BUSY NOT HAVING ONE FOR SO LONG.  If I haven't said anything, the answer is NO, I haven't heard, or worse, they rejected me.  Thanks for bringing that up.

"Have you tried, like, Starbucks?" Have you tried sticking your thumb up your ass?  I'm sorry, but I just spent a fuckton of money to change careers so I think I'm going to stick to that area, thanks.  And for the record, before I went back to school I DID apply to Starbucks, and they wanted nothing to do with me.  I just added more education and backed myself into a seriously overqualified corner, I don't think this new degree is what I was missing when they didn't hire me the first time.

"You should go use your career services office.  It's part of what you paid for."  You are correct on the second part, I DID pay for it, and it's fucking worthless.  I might as well go throw my resumes off a building and hope one lands on a CEO's head.  The career services office may or may not have told me to "lower my expectations" and "take what I can get" when it came to internships, so I'd hate to see what they say about jobs.  I had 2 unpaid internships, I really can't lower my expectations any more than that, since slavery is illegal.  Whatever happened to "What are you interested in doing?  We have connections in that industry, here are some contacts"?  Also I have very little trust in you when you a) look 10 years younger than me and went straight into "career services" without having A CAREER and b) when you post "administrative assistant" jobs on the daily email to STUDENTS AND ALUMNI.  Hi, we went to school so we wouldn't HAVE to be administrative assistants, thanks.

"Why are you moving to THE VALLEY?"  Oh, I don't know, BECAUSE I'M FUCKING POOR??  Sure, the valley isn't on my list of "places I must live at one point in my life" but it's cheap, it's safe and it's surprisingly closer to my friends than Silverlake.  And when your landlord sells your building you don't have time to wait til you get a job to go apartment hunting in better neighborhoods, you just find what you can afford where you won't get shot and you take it. 

"Let me tell you about my recent vacation to Europe/the Caribbean/somewhere else you can't afford!"  NOPE.  Stop right there.  That's fantastic that mommy and daddy paid to send you on a nice vacation after graduation and you don't have any stress about finding a job because you can either live with them or they'll support you, but I'm fucking 32 and that shit doesn't happen anymore.  If you're my age and employed and taking a vacation, good for you, you deserve it.  You worked hard, saved money and vacation days and I'd be doing the same thing.  You're not who I'm talking to.  And if you just happen to have boatloads of money for whatever reason and go on vacations weekly and continuously post about it on facebook, I might just have to unfollow you.  And yes, I did go on a "bar trip" after law school, but it was entirely financed by my airline points and a gift of my parents hotel points.  That's right, COMPLETELY FREE (minus food/drink/entertainment), unless you count the $100 copay from the ambulance ride and emergency room visit.  So you can't call me out about being hypocritical on this one.

"Have you considered being a stripper?" Actually, yes, yes I have.  There are a few things that get in the way of that career path, however - my profound hatred for being nude and inability to conceal my disgust of gross humans.  That and I've been told that when I'm trying to be sexy, I look decidedly NOT sexy.  While I consider myself in somewhat better shape than Chris Farley, my being a stripper would be very similar to that SNL sketch with him and Patrick Swayze being Chippendales - and people aren't paying to laugh when they come to a strip club.

"Isn't it nice to have some time off?" Look, I enjoy the fact that I get to choose my wakeup time every morning, but when "time off" is your default and it's not PAID time off, then NO, IT'S NOT NICE.  It's not nice to spend every day on the computer searching for jobs, bothering your friends about potential openings at their company or paying for your gas in quarters.  No, I don't particularly like the free time I spend on the phone with this or that company asking why my car/insurance/cable payment is late.  And there's only so much time you can spend reading at Starbucks before you start to hate both reading and Starbucks.  And life.

"You should move home (with your parents)" a) where my parents live is not "home" - I have never lived there nor do I know a soul.  My home is here, and it is unfortunate that my parents don't live here, but they don't.  b) if I did move "home," what the hell would I do?  There are WAY fewer jobs in Columbia, Missouri, population 50-100k, than there are here in the greater Los Angeles area.  If I moved "home" I'd have to work at Applebees with a side gig at the Flying J truck stop down the road, or I could pretend the last four years of my life didn't exist and go be an attorney again in a place where I have no friends.  That worked out well the first 2 times.

"Don't you have money saved up?  Weren't you a lawyer?" HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH  go fuck yourself.

26 REASONS NOT TO RUN A MARATHON

 A few days ago Huffington Post ran an article entitled "26 Reasons Not to Run a Marathon".  Although I haven't been as vocal about my extreme distaste for running in past blogs, I'm going to say it right now: I really fucking hate running.  And while I didn't necessarily need 26 reasons not to run a marathon because I wasn't wrestling with that decision in my mind (nor have I ever), I still read it, and it inspired me to put together my own list of why you should never run a marathon.

I've run races in the past - some 5ks, a 10k and a 12k - and when I say "run" I mean "walked up the hills and ran down them really fast to make up for walking."  My participation in said races was sometimes voluntary, sometimes not - in fact my first 5k I was told about when I arrived at the airport to visit my friend for the weekend and found I had unknowingly been signed up for competitive running, an activity in which I did not partake, competitively or not, at any point in my life.

Running is not fun.  Granted, this is coming from someone with asthma and the lung capacity of a squirrel, but seriously.  Other parts of my body don't like it either and they work just fine.  Yet for whatever reason, I've had a dysfunctional relationship with running where I try it, remember it sucks, stop, forget how much it sucks, decide "maybe it'll be easier this time," sign up for another (short) race, begin training for said race, remember "oh god, this is fucking torture," reluctantly run/walk the race and have momentary happiness at the end when I get a free tshirt and a medal as though I was a winner of some sort.  And I get really pissed if they don't have finishers medals for everyone, because what the hell did I get out of this if not some trophy that will jingle with all the others on my closet doorhandle for the rest of my young life?

I've heard people say after a race "I feel so great, I want to run a half marathon next!"  What?  I did a 10k and at the end I thought "I have no interest in ever running this far again, pretty sure I'll just stop here."

Running sucks.  Running 26 miles sucks SO MUCH that I can barely express how dumb it is, especially since we're not hunting buffalo within a 50-mile perimeter for survival anymore.  So below you will find my insightful and true facts about why you shouldn't run a marathon:

1)  I really shouldn't have to say this, but do you people know about the first "marathon?"  A guy had to run 26.2 miles from somewhere I should probably Wikipedia in Greece to a town called Marathon to deliver an important message, like a war was coming or the king died or there was an invasion of locusts, I don't fucking remember.  Anyway, when the guy reaches Marathon with his message, completing his journey, HE DIES.  He runs 26.2 miles and INSTANTLY DIES, because human beings are not meant to just fucking run and run and run and run.

So someone thought, "Hey, let's commemorate this historic moment by doing this thing that killed this guy."  Because we also have competitions commemorating the Titanic by intentionally sinking a ship and seeing who can get to the lifeboats and survive every year, so why not try this other thing that has NOT BEEN ACCOMPLISHED WITHOUT DEATH.

2)  It hurts.  Running hurts me after about 45 seconds, but running will hurt ANYONE who does it for 3-5 hours straight.  Your legs wish they were amputated, your lungs wish you would just take up smoking and your heart is just screaming "FUCK YOUUUUU" the entire time.  The HuffPost article even talks about how marathons INJURE YOUR HEART, which is probably what happened to the poor guy that is rolling in his grave because other idiots are doing what he gave his life for FOR FUN.

"Don't eat too much fat!  Don't eat too much salt!  Don't smoke!  It's bad for your heart!"  We haven't turned these things into competitions (ok, maybe the eating thing but everyone acknowledges that's a terrible idea), but let's go run so far we break our most important organ!

3)  YOU WILL NEVER WIN.  Ever.  No matter how many marathons you run, how fast you get, how much you train, you're not Kenyan (unless you are, in fact, Kenyan).  There is nothing you can do to become physically Kenyan even if you go take a citizenship test (which has not been proven to make you faster), so ladies and gentlemen, you will  never win a marathon.  Everyone knows only Kenyans win marathons, and I'm pretty sure their flag has a dude running on it (I have no fucking clue what the flag looks like).  So just give up.

4)  Any event where it is not only possible but acceptable to shit and piss in your pants has no place in mainstream civilization.  I have obviously not done it, but I've seen some YouTube videos that I can't unsee.  Oh, gotta go to the bathroom at some point during the running of 26 miles?  I can't bear to lose the precious minutes it might take to use a port-o-potty or at least a piece of foliage, so I'll just do it in my pants.  Voluntary pants-shitting is just not something I'm comfortable becoming a part of America - I've shit my pants and it was most DEFINITELY not voluntary, nor did it earn me anything other than an ambulance ride and a really embarrassing walk of shame through a nice hotel.  If people have to clean up feces off the street after an event it sure as hell better be a parade and the poo from horses, because people shitting in the street needs to stay in the movies with Maya Rudolph.  Just...no.

Ok, so I'm pretty sure I don't need 26 reasons not to run a marathon.  The first one should be pretty solid, and if you're not convinced, the second one should convince you.  And if someone tells you about something good about marathon running, ask them "When that happened was any part of your body in pain?"  They'll be lying if they say no.  Even a child has the wisdom to know that "that hurts" means "maybe I should stop doing that."  Apparently we lose that wisdom over time.

I WANT TO LIVE IN AN OLD FOLKS HOME

No, stupid, not like a nursing home - I suppose they're called "retirement communities," basically apartments that don't allow anyone under 65 to live there.  I passed one walking to the grocery store and looked at how nice all plants on the balconies were, how well it was kept up, and I began to think - this is the perfect place for me!

Somewhere not too deep in my soul lives a crotchety old lady who wants to yell at kids to get off her lawn and play bingo on Wednesday nights.  Let's face it, I'm not fun anymore.  I don't want to go out after 10pm, my body pretty much rejects alcohol, I can't handle loud noises or crowds and I really don't want to see anyone except my smallish group of friends.  How is that NOT like an old person?

Here is a not-quite-exhaustive list of why I really need to live in senior housing:

1) Quiet. - When you live in normal apartments, people are young and do things like "party" and "stomp for no good reason."  I doubt I'll have to go ask Clarence upstairs to turn down the bass to his music because I can't sleep at 2am.  And you DEFINITELY won't hear your next door neighbors having "intimate relations" (don't you DARE try to convince me that old people have sex, I have enough emotional issues already without that mental picture).  Although the loud TVs might get to me, they'll be turned off before bedtime at 8pm so it won't be a problem.

2) I hate people. - You know it's true.  I don't want to talk to strangers or have to interact with human beings under circumstances that I myself have not created.  My social anxiety makes it hard to even go sit at a pool that's got a group of people hanging around it for fear they might try and talk to me and I won't have anything cool to say.  Old people are the best.  They're too old to give a shit about being cool, as noted by the gentleman I saw walking around the lake last week wearing a full track suit and cargo shorts OVER his track pants.  And they like to bitch.  I could complain allllll day with a group of old folks.  We hate the same things - kids, noisy dogs, hippies, it not being the perfect temperature at all times. 

3) Bingo - I fucking love bingo.  Probably because the first time I went I won $400, but still, I enjoy a rousing game of bingo when there is a monetary reward at stake.  I don't even know where to play bingo in LA, except drag queen bingo where the prize is likely something I'm highly uninterested in.  I don't want to go hang out at a bar, those are loud.  They have people.  Sometimes a lot of people in a small space.  DISLIKE.  I'd love to, however, go out on the patio and play bingo after dinner, where no one is expecting me to stay until midnight and I still have time afterwards to watch some Netflix.

As long as the "old person smell" doesn't permeate my apartment unit, I'd be perfectly fine.  And maybe those places offer free dinner too...I don't know, I haven't really looked into it, but that'd be a giant plus.  Little old ladies like to bake things for people, I bet they'd bring me treats on a regular basis.  Wow, this is sounding better and better - and I'm realizing just what a crotchety old fart I actually am.  And yes, I probably will watch Law and Order after publishing this, shut up.

WHAT I LEARNED IN HONG KONG

A year ago, if I was searching for a full-time job with decent pay I'd be excited because I could afford a nicer apartment and things like fancy purses or bulk purchases at Forever21.  Now, while I obviously need money to feed myself and pay for a place to live, my outlook is completely different.  I'm dying to save some money to go on a trip - and not to Hawaii or Cancun, I want to go back to Asia, or Europe, or somewhere in South America where I won't be kidnapped and sold into the slave trade by drug czars (that still happens, right?).  So here's how two months living on the other side of the world changed my life:

1) I now know that I can happily live in a prison-cell-sized apartment because I'll only be there for a few hours of awake time a day.

2) Living in LA made me not even think twice about the fact that everyone around me was speaking another language.

3) If I lived somewhere with public transportation I would legitimately never have to exercise.

4) Food in other countries is apparently better for you than food in the US because it's less processed (also helping with #3)

5) Exploring is a perfectly acceptable daytime activity if you're bored.

6) The best place to have alone time is in a place where no one knows you or speaks your language.  That way you can't even be bothered with other people's problems, because you don't understand what the hell they're saying.

7) Other cultures are fascinating - from the subway ads to the local stores, everything is new and interesting.

8) I need a better camera.

9) I want to eat all the things.  Except the eyeballs and intestines, but everything else.

10) I have adequately trained my stomach to handle street food like a champ.

11) I can walk into a tiny noodle shop alone with no English signs, order food, eat and pay simply by pointing.

12) No one else understands the joy of an ice cold beverage like Americans.  Someone needs to invent an ice fanny pack so we can bring our own to restaurants in case of emergency.

13) I want to go ALL THE PLACES and I have some serious catching up to do.

14) Someone please list all the countries that have squat toilets so that I may be adequately prepared and/or avoid them altogether.

TRADING IN FOR A NEWER MODEL

I think bodies should have warranties.  I'd like to think that my body was made to last until at least 40 without any major overhauls or malfunctioning parts, but unfortunately it doesn't appear to work this way.  If it did, I'd march right in to the body office and tell them "Hi, I need a new body, this one is defective."

I make old jokes all the time because I'm over 30.  I don't really think I'm old, and I sure as hell don't act like I am.  That's just one of those things, once you turn 30 you're officially an "adult" and supposed to do adult things.  I know plenty of my friends who look their age, and a decent number who look younger.  I fall into the latter category.  I've been told 24-25 is what people would assume if I were a stranger and they knew nothing about me.  So obviously my face, hair and skin are not defective because I don't even look as old as I am.

I can tell you just about exactly when I started feeling physically old - when I was only 28.  Until then I could drink like a pro, exercise without injury, wake up without random body aches and pains, and generally go about my business without something breaking.  I wasn't aware that this was something to be cherished and treasured, I just thought I was NORMAL.

Then 28 rolls around.  I notice a few problems creeping up - namely my relationship with alcohol.  Alcohol and I were relatively good friends, especially during law school when I took it upon myself to make up for 4 years of college with a boyfriend.  I rarely had hangovers, almost never vomited, and headaches didn't exist.  Up until that time the only headaches I'd ever had were in relation to an   illness.

Magically alcohol became my enemy.  I don't know if they changed the formula but I'm pretty sure that would've been newsworthy, so I'm guessing it was my body that changed and not the booze.  Over the past 4 years I've gone from "no hangover" to "hangover WHILE I'M STILL DRINKING".  Yes, my friends, I actually begin my hangover approximately 2 hours after I start drinking.  Headache, nausea, bloating (dear god I bloat like a fucking Macy's balloon, so sexy right?) are all happening when I'm STILL AT THE BAR.  Wonder why I never meet anyone when I'm out?  BECAUSE I'M THINKING ABOUT HOW TO KILL MYSELF.

One beer?  Feel like death.  One glass of wine?  Feel like death.  You get the picture.  The only reason I haven't given up alcohol completely is because I must be drunk to be around drunk people.  Think I don't like people normally?  I DESPISE drunk people when I'm sober.  So I drink not to hate.

The other thing is that alcohol is the bringer of bad decisions.  In your 20s, those bad decisions involve things like random strangers, binge-eating a dozen donuts and waking up on a park bench in a strange city wearing hospital scrubs - and at least they come with a good story.  Bad decisions in your 30s also can be fueled by alcohol, they're just a little less exciting and have long-term consequences, such as "I'm going to do the splits without stretching because this random fat guy is going to try and I used to be a dancer 14 YEARS AGO". 

My hamstring and I are still not on the best of terms, and that was over a month ago.  Hey buddy, why don't you heal yourself up like you would if I were 23 again, I got shit to do.  If I'm dancing at a bar or club, I can't do certain moves because I HAVE OLD KNEES.  I leave work every day wishing I was dating a masseuse because my neck and shoulders have all but detached from my body.  And now I have back problems.  WHO HAS BACK PROBLEMS WHEN THEY'RE 32?!?

This is the second time in a year my back has gone all old-lady on me, making moving difficult and hurting even when I'm doing things that require no movement, like SLEEPING.  For real?  I'm not obese or a smoker or addicted to meth, so I really shouldn't be dealing with this until I'm 50.  So now I have to forgo exercise of all types until my back heals up while taking more pills than an AIDS patient.

My right ankle pretty much doesn't have tendons.  The damn thing will give out while I'm simply walking, and I've sprained it to the point of incapacitation at least 3 times in 2 years.  I had a stress fracture in my right shin from training for a race a few years ago, and sometimes the damn thing still aches.  I feel like one of those weird old people who can feel weather changes in their bones, telling you all about it while force-feeding you Werther's Originals.  And keep this in mind - I'm not an athlete.  These are not sports injuries due to overuse, these are "I tripped over my own feet walking into the bathroom" type injuries.

And let's not mention the two times I had to go to the hospital to get an IV, one of which may or may not have been at a Chinese restaurant where I had to be carried to the car by a gigantic Chinese linebacker who happened to be wandering around the restaurant looking for damsels in distress.  It's even worse when you're in the hospital bed while your mother and grandmother (65 and 94 respectively) look on in perfect health with worry in their eyes.  REALLY?  MY GRANDMA'S BODY FUNCTIONS BETTER THAN MINE?  Good god.

The real irony here is the fact that the one part of my body that functions most effectively?  MY BRAIN.  Yeah.  Chew on that for a little while.

YOU MUST BE PSYCHIC

The other day I went to a psychic.  Yes, like one of the ones with the neon signs of "psychic" and "tarot readings" in the windows.  Why did I go to a psychic?

1) I'm batshit crazy, specifically at this moment.
2) I had a Groupon.

"But you're always batshit crazy, so why is now different?" you ask.  I blame a friend who told me about her ridiculously accurate chakra reading and made me desperate for someone to tell me something positive was going to happen in the next month or so.  I'm about to graduate, I'm looking for a job, and as always, I want a goddamned boyfriend.  Three things I have little to no control over.

I don't even technically believe in psychics, although I've seen things and heard things from friends that dampen my skepticism.  I'm kind of like Mulder, with that poster of the UFO saying "I want to believe."  I do, I SO WANT TO BELIEVE.  If you don't get that reference, obviously you weren't at the XFiles convention I went to in 1995.

So my insanely skeptical self sat down with some random chick who whips out her tarot cards and tells me to shuffle them while thinking really hard about the things I want answers to.  That wasn't difficult, since my mind is consumed with the thought that come May 16, I will be homeless and jobless and I will have to resort to writing my resume on cardboard with a sharpie I borrow from a gas station attendant.

As she pulls out the cards she starts saying things, like "do you have an interview or meeting in the next ten days?" (keep in mind my only information for her was my name and birth date, which I told her upon entering so no google searches allowed).  I had, in fact, received an email that morning scheduling a call with a large PR firm for two days out, so that was a tad spooky.  Then, the next day, I got a call from another place setting up a physical interview.  Score 1 for psychic lady.

She pulled up more cards, saying that she sees that I will be moving in the next 10 weeks, which is true - job or not, my landlord is selling this apartment in May and my rent will likely be doubled.  That and I want to get closer to the damn ocean and its breezes that make 90 degree days livable.

Then she got down to the nuts and bolts of why I had always secretly wanted to see a psychic but was too embarrassed to before: the "love" card.  She looked at it for a second and was like "You're not currently in a relationship, are you?"  I don't know if it was the cat hair on my shirt or the desperation in my eyes, or if she was actually psychic, but I told her she was correct.  Then she told me she sees me being in a relationship within 10 weeks, that it will be a long-term relationship and that I have not met this person yet.  I supposedly will be introduced by one of my male friends.  That narrows it down a ton, since I probably have more male friends than female friends.  But I grasp for straws where they're given, and I held onto this one tightly.

So the over-under on this one was that I'm going to be introduced to a dude by a friend (always the best way, in my opinion), my interviews will be fruitful and will lead to something shortly and that I will be financially stable soon - she specifically said stable but not rich.  Which, dear god, is all I'm asking for.  I've never felt the glory of financial stability so this is like my ultimate sad adult dream. 

She said some other shit about having a friend who was jealous of me and didn't want me to succeed, but I couldn't pin that on anyone except perhaps EVERYONE AT MY FIRST JOB but I think she was meaning currently.  But then again likely most young females have one friend who is like that, so she could've just pulled that out of her ass and 90% of people would have related to it.  I will be "surrounded by good friends" soon, "perhaps at a wedding or other event" so I'll put that on going to Austin next weekend and seeing 10,000 people (ok probably just 10) I haven't seen in years.

Part of me now understands why people need religion - they need to feel in control when their life is completely out of control.  I guess some people believing in "god's plan" is sort of like me going to a psychic to tell me things that take a tiny bit of anxiety out of my everyday life.  If I don't magically find a boyfriend in 10 weeks, I won't be shocked - only a tiny part of me actually believes she's right about any number of things - but to hear someone tell you, an uninterested third party, that you'll be employed, financially stable, and finally have a man is nice to hear, if nothing else.

And my friends and parents could say the same thing over and over, but just like your mom telling you she doesn't understand why the "cool kids" don't like you since she thinks you're cool, your family and friends telling you you'll get a job and find stability in life is sweet, but biased and meant to make you feel better.

Make fun all you like, but making me calm the fuck down while life takes its course is exactly what I needed, and maybe I did it through non-traditional means.  At least it keeps me away from panic attacks and extra doses of benzos.

BOYFRIEND APPLICATION

I knew it would eventually come down to this, so here is my personally designed boyfriend application.

 

 

BOYFRIEND APPLICATION

 

Last name ___________  First name __________   DOB __________  Height __________  Weight_________  Hair color _________  Eye color _____________ 

Current City___________  Hometown ___________ Do you EVER hope to move back to your hometown?  Y/N

PLEASE ANSWER ALL QUESTIONS HONESTLY, YOU ARE SUBJECT TO A POLYGRAPH IF I DEEM IT NECESSARY:

 

1) Do you have kids?  Y/N  If yes, please give their ages _______  How often are you required to see them? _______

2) Do you want (more) kids?  Y/N  (if yes, please wad this up and throw it in the trash)

3) On a scale of 1-10, how hairy do you consider yourself?  ___  Is any of that on your back?  Y/N

4) Do you currently have or plan on having facial hair more than just "not shaving for 3 days"?  Y/N

5) Do you have at least a bachelor's degree from a non-online accredited 4-year university?  Y/N

6) On a typical day, do you consider yourself happy or at least content? Y/N

7) Have you ever been prescribed antidepressants and refused to take them and/or have your friends ever suggested you see a therapist but you "don't believe in that"?   Y/N

8) Are you on good terms with your parents?  Y/N

9) Would you consider yourself racist or homophobic or has anyone told you that you are?  Y/N

10) Do you own a gun?  Y/N  If yes (and you are not a law enforcement official), would you get rid of the gun if I asked you to?  Y/N

11) Do you identify with any organized religion?  Y/N   If yes, and the answer is Christianity, please throw this paper away.  If yes and it is not Christianity, please elaborate on beliefs and importance in your life __________________________________________________________________

12) Do you have any pets that are not CATS or DOGS?  Y/N

13) Do you consider FoxNews to be a credible news authority?   Y/N

14) Are you an "actor" (also known as "waiter" or "bartender")?  Y/N

15) Please finish this sentence:  "We got no FOOD, we got no JOBS....______________________"

16) Do you own any of the following (circle all that apply):  Crocs     Skinny jeans     Gold chains    

Anything ever worn by Justin Bieber     

17) Do you "believe in marriage"?  Y/N

18) How often do you drink? _______  How often do you drink HEAVILY?________

19) I introduce you as "cock biscuit" to a friend.  How do you introduce me in response?  _________________

20) Are you vegan or do you follow any stupid fad diet that will restrict where we go out to eat?  Y/N

21) Do you have a REAL job (salaried and requires skill) and is it stable?   Y/N

22) Do your friends think you're hilarious?  Y/N

23) Have you ever been described as attractive by a female or gay man to whom you are not related?  Y/N

24) Do you like country music?  Y/N

25) Are you a convicted felon?  Y/N

26) What is your general feeling on napping? _______________

Tell me a hilarious story of something that has happened to you.  I am judging you both on what you find hilarious and your grammatical prowess.

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Please return to Assbucket complete with a photograph showing a close-up of your face.  You may include a silly photograph as well, but the "normal" face photo is a requirement.  Applications without photographs will be burned.  Letters of recommendation are also accepted but only from close friends who know you well (male or female).  Your mom's opinion does not count.  Also if you're friendly with an ex-girlfriend, I'd appreciate a letter from her as well.

 

 

Inspired by the photo below - I give credit where credit is due.