Monday, August 18, 2008

New Jobs I'm Considering

Fireman - I think I'd look pretty spiffy all done up in their flame-retardant gear... particularly that long coat all SWOOSH as I run through a burning building clutching a baby that was totally going to catch on fire, had I... A HERO... not been there to save it. But, eh... ultimately, I think if you're a Fireman, you have to carry lots of heavy stuff. And that's a dealbreaker. I mean, babies are one thing. But big, coiled-up hoses and fire hydrants and other, heavier people that are dying of smoke inhalation and third-degree burns? No thanks.

Astronaut - You know that freeze dried ice cream you always got at the science museum? That stuff tastes like a chalky block of sorority girl barf. And, as is my understanding, that's ALL you have to eat when you're in space. Well, that and Tang of course. But Tang is like McDonald's orange drink that's dying from consumption and I'm pretty sure it's actually supposed to be used to kill garden slugs. So, yeah, for entirely gustatory reasons, me being an astronaut isn't going to happen. Also, I don't know how math or science works.

Heart Surgeon - Eeeeeeew. Squishy. But it pays well. If the hospital will let me keep a trash can next to the operating table so I'll have a place to hurl whenever I touch something warm and gloopy, then I'm in.

Millionaire Playboy - I am totally cool with this job. Where can I fill out an application? I've already got a taste for the finer things in life (like NOT buying Malt-O-Meal cereal and generic-brand pickles) and I'm way snobby, too. See, watch... "People with money are FAAAAR superior to people with out money! Dance, servants... DANCE!!!" See. Snobby. So let me in your club, classy millionaires! And hurry; I've got to take a thunderdump!

Brewmaster - I would probably be good at this. But I would also probably drink up all my product and only be able to sell the public pictures of me hungover and crying. They would come in their own frames, of course, and I'd sign them... but... still. Not the same as a delicious, hand-crafted bottle of microbrew. Or some Schlitz that I poured into a few empty long necks because I don't technically know how to make beer (as I am not a magician).

Vigilante - Not a job, technically, but nonetheless... fun! Exciting! You get to sleep in and carry a gun! I'd probably end up avoiding criminals, though (they're mean and might punch me) in favor of bringing down the hammer of justice on people that hit others with their umbrellas on busy sidewalks or talk loudly about movies they've just seen, even though there might be people within earshot that are sensitive to spoilers. I mean, sorry Guy In The Cube Across From Me... not all of us could get tickets to The Dark Knight on the day it opened. Why you gotta ruin it??? Man, I am so going to stab you in an alley. The hammer of justice is swift and surprisingly petty.

Race Car Driver - Remember when this was a slick, coolsy-woolsy profession? All mysterious Italians and zooming around the Autobahn with foxy Eurobabes. Cool sunglasses, silk scarves that didn't look gay, nifty jumpsuits. Now, though... ick. It's all about selling every square inch of car surface over to Geico or Home Depot or M&Ms, and having all your fans be unappealing trailer-dwellers with a lot of shitty kids and credit card debt, and having to spend all your time turning left. Nah, not for me. Unless, of course, you can hook up your iPod to the tape deck inside the car. I think modern day auto racing could do with a little Belle & Sebastian.

High-Level Executive - I would rather jam a Mont Blanc pen in my eyeball. Or take a conference call with every horrific nightmare I've ever had. Or wear a power tie made of ants. Or handle the Johnson account, and by "the Johnson account," I mean a NUCLEAR BOMB!!!

Chef - Er... I'm not much of a cook, to tell you the truth. But, you know, as long as everyone in the restaurant is cool with eating a cheese quesadilla or a grilled cheese sandwich or just a big bowl of microwaved cheese, then, yeah, I guess I could be a chef. Oh, and I could ALSO be a chef like Chef Boyardee. As in, I could be the face of a line of poor-quality canned pasta and/or meat foods. Being appealingly fat is good for sales!

Female Body Inspector - I see these guys walking around all the time, particularly at street fairs and at Wal-Mart, so it can't be that hard a line of work to get into. Plus... eyes? Oh I've got eyes. They're good for inspecting female bodies!


Blogger Lioux said...

You may also consider joining my band Sister Kisser®™©™ and becoming a 'Bad Boy Rock Star'.

You play the triangle, right?

I'll send you an application.

9:20 AM  
Blogger The Unbearable Banishment said...

If any of those fail you, you can always be a breast cancer examiner, tidily winks champion or curmudgeon commentator in the ether. Oh, wait a minute, you’ve already got that last one covered!

10:53 AM  
Blogger Subway Gal said...

This is one of the funniest things I've ever read. My vote is chef because quesidillas are one of my favorite foods ever. I actually prefer chicken in them, but whatever, I'll pretty much eat anything. Especially if someone else is paying for it.

10:58 AM  
Blogger AndSheWas said...

"Vigilante" made me literally laugh out loud. I bet there will be a new generation of wannabe vigilantes who have grown up with GTA.

11:05 AM  
Blogger surviving myself said...

What kind of dance would you make your servants do?

12:00 PM  
Blogger Sonny Amou said...

These are all good jobs to consider, but nothing tops Lotto Winner.

12:45 PM  
Blogger jason quinones said...

i always envy those bastards whose job it is to travel and rate hotels.

free trips,free food and accomidations and people catering to my every need....AS A JOB!!!

sign me da fuck up!!

5 stars for everybody!

12:51 PM  
Blogger Clinton said...

Lioux... Excellent! Do we have to provide our own leather pants?

UB... I'm not curmudgeonly. I'm irascible. And cranky. And adorable!

Subway... Aw, thanks! My quesadillas are good, but they're MEGA good when I also make salsa and stuff them with that too.

Andshewas... You're probably right. Especially since killing prostitutes is FUN!

Surviving... Lambada (the forbidden dance).

Sonny... True. I would also accept Guy Who Finds Suitcase Full of Gold Dubloons.

Jason... Totally. I would be shameless about that. Buy me food and booze and your hotel could have dead babies in ever room. It still gets all the stars in the universe.

12:52 PM  
Blogger jason quinones said...

9 times outta ten lottery winners end up screwing themselves out of the money they just won by spending it on bullshit like needy family members and charity.

i'd rather just "mysteriously find" a suitcase full of money in the back of a cab.

and hell no i wouldn't return it!

12:58 PM  
Blogger Todd said...

I mean, babies are one thing

Dude, fuck babies. If the house is on fire, you save the bacon first.

2:01 PM  
Anonymous David said...

How about a screenwriter??? You seem to me the writer type. All (used to be)beardy. Wanting free beers to get you to talk and open up about your sordid past.

7:08 PM  
Blogger Quin Browne said...


just a suggestion....lots of tax breaks, and, they women have great hair!

7:50 PM  

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