Previously on Content Unrelated (3/25/13 – 3/31/13)

Another week went down faster than an Asian hooker if you held a fifty dollar bill in front of your junk.

Not that I’d have a frame of reference even remotely similar.

Here’s what you missed!

Previously on Content Unrelated:

Our hero talked about the impact his digital footprint is having on his job search! Then we dug deep for the stupid and added a few more entries to the Content Unrelated Dictionary. And finally, I tried to explain myself to potential employers who might be e-stalking my shit right now.

And during some extracurricular activities, the fine folks at Dude Write and Bytestories gave me a Chairman’s Choice Award for my entry to their Tell-a-Tale contest. Check it out on Bytestories, and look for it in their eBook, dropping September of this year!

Want to collaborate? Want me to write for you or have you guest post on Content Unrelated? Want to follow me on Twitter and give me shit? Click for info!

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An open letter to potential employers.

Dear Potential Employers,

You’ve no doubt received my resume and cover letter by now; and have since decided that before you make any decisions on whether or not you want to contact me, you’ve found it best to do a little Internet stalking informal research on Mr. Asset-To-Your-Company.  Mr. Strong-Ability-To-Multitask.

Yours truly.

I feel as though maybe you’ve already come to some conclusions about me that might cause you to “regret to inform” me, or to “seek candidates who more closely match” your “needs.”  I’ve written this letter to you in hopes that you might reconsider “going another direction.”

Spare me.  I’ve heard it all.

I’m almost certain you’ve sifted through my tweets, and positive you’ve read more on this blog than the post you’re reading right now.  You might be shocked at my use of colorful language and, at times, crude humor.  Well, Potential Employers, I’m here to let you know that while I’m on the clock, I promise to maintain a professional demeanor.  However, there is always the remote chance I might let a four-letterer slip every so often.  I’m not a fucking machine, guys.

See?

Sure, I might talk about the office whore or last night’s game with the guys at the water cooler from time to time. After all, you can’t expect me to completely cut myself off from conversations involving the workplace or current events.  That would be irresponsible.  Communication is the foundation of success, and a lack thereof amongst co-workers puts your business at an incredible disadvantage.

The more you know.

Upon reading more of my material, you might come to the conclusion that I’m just some guy who has nothing else better to do than to use the Internet as a medium to complain about stupid things and stupid people.

Even though that’s clearly what the Internet is for.  Oh, and porn.

While on the surface it might seem as if I’m complaining, I’m really just trying to bring awareness to the people about the stupidity that surrounds them every day.  The more people know about the stupid, the more they can do to prevent themselves and others from succumbing to it.

I’m like a human resource.  Hey, isn’t that one of the positions I applied for?  Sounds like the question of whether or not I’m qualified just answered itself.

All I’m trying to say is, don’t judge a book by its cover (or its slightly deranged, sometimes impossibly low-brow material).  I have everything you’ve always looked for in a new hire; minus related experience, proficiency in Photoshop, InDesign or anything Mac-related.

To hell with experience, that’s what training is for.

Hire me.  I guarantee you’ve never had a guy on board so willing to sacrifice his sanity and personal identity to be molded and shaped into the best soulless corporate hack you’ve ever seen (please, don’t do this to me) — all for the sake of a decent paycheck.

And a comprehensive benefits package, including health, dental and eye insurance, 401(k), paid vacations and sick days, quarterly bonuses/raises, profit sharing, room for advancement and my own parking spot.  You know.  The usual.

And just to clarify, my résumé states I can type 83 words a minute.  Let’s be honest.  You and I both know that’s a bullshit number I used to get your attention.  I just want to start off on the right foot.

Which, incidentally, is very difficult when you don’t have a leg to stand on.

Thank you for your time and consideration.  I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,

Jeff

More from the Content Unrelated dictionary.

Last week, I had some fun giving Urban Dictionary a run for its money by giving completely new definitions to some pretty common words. Since I had so much fun with it, I’m going to take that idea and mercilessly beat it to the ground.

Mugshot:
A shot of one’s preferred liquor mixed with the content of one’s coffee mug.

“What’s up with Joe? He’s been in the employee bathroom for an hour trying to call his ex-girlfriend.”
“One too many mugshots, probably.”

Hero:
Japanese for “hello.”

“Konnichiwa!”
“Ooh hero!”

Misdirection:
A man with two penises who suffers from erectile dysfunction. Twice.

“You hear about Todd? Only guy born with two dicks and the poor bastard has misdirection. That really sucks the donkey’s balls.”

Double chin:
Chinese twins.

“Look at those double chins over there. I’ve heard jokes about not being able to tell Asians apart, but this is ridiculous.”

Gonorrhea:
Term used to describe someone who just got over a fit of diarrhea.

“Hey man, your stomach still bothering you?”
“Nah, I’m good. I had some major diarrhea, but now it’s pretty much all gonorrhea.

Bicycle:
The frequency or regularity of the need to satisfy one’s bicuriosity.

“What’s up with Ted? He’s being uncomfortably flirty with me. I thought he was into chicks.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s probably just on his bicycle. It’ll pass.”

Have your own bullshit definitions? Leave them in the comments!

I am Eddie Haskell.

I’ve read a few things, recently. Things that pertain to job-hunting and fine-tuning a résumé and sort of lying but not really lying. All that stuff.

Things that describe in painful detail the shit I could be doing wrong, therefore crippling my chances of ascending from the ranks of disgruntled bartender.

One of the main things mentioned in these How to Not Fuck Up When it Comes to Landing That One Job You Totally Want articles, is how you shouldn’t ignore your online presence. If you’re on Facebook, make sure it’s professional. Hide or remove tags of yourself from any picture that prominently features red Solo cups.

On Twitter? Use those 140 characters to their full potential by not passive-aggressively telling every customer you’ve ever had to fuck off and die.

Have a blog or Web site? Keep it clean! Comment on social media trends, give insightful thoughts on top news stories, don’t tell people what you want them to hear — tell them what they want to hear.

In other words, be as boring as humanly possible without wanting to kill yourself every time you log in to one of your ever-polished online accounts.

Don’t be yourself, if that’s who you are.

Now, that’s not to say you can’t keep it clean and professional without being interesting. I’m simply saying that we aren’t all Wally Cleaver. Some of us are Eddie Haskell — a cover letter and résumé that compliments your tie, and a Twitter account that gets the other Twitter accounts in trouble.

So if you’ve found my site via channels used to screen potential employees, I ask that you don’t take anything you see here at face value. This is an outlet. This is what I do for fun. This is my hobby.

A rich businessperson like yourself has to have some hobbies too, right? What I’m saying is, is that if your hobby as a rich businessman was, say, snorting cocaine off a transvestite’s nutsack, I wouldn’t hold it against you so long as you were a good boss.

I expect the same consideration.

Previously on Content Unrelated: (3/18/13 – (3/24/13)

Another week down.

Really starting to hit my stride with the new blog, I think.

Previously on Content Unrelated:

Monday started off on the right foot, naturally bitching about work a la some haiku action. Told a couple of embarrassing stories; first one involving the Sex Machine, and then a short story I submitted to the Dude Gods over at DudeWrite about how I put my foot so far in my mouth, I shit it out the next day.

And I topped the week off, once again, bitching about work.

Want to guest post or have me over in your neck of the woods? Want to collaborate or just say something stupid? Details in the contacts!