SuperHeroes: Kinda like terrorists, unless you have a brain.

Let's begin with HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Pictured Above: Your self-perceived creativity quotient dying miserably.

(Picture by Anthony22 at wikipedia, who once turned me into a newt)

This time of year is always an interesting one, and its lessons are myriad. We could go into so many topics, such as...

1. The masks and facades we put up to protect ourselves
2. The natural rewards of hard work
3. The pitfalls of gluttony
4. "Psh, this house is so lame. You can't even- HOLYSHITHOLYSHITHOLYSHIT WE GON' DIE"

And so on and so forth.

... we're not even going to bother with that today. Let's just have fun with it, no need for craziness...

"Let's just pretend it's Christmas instead, alright kids?"

Consider my jimmies rustled.

Back when I was a young kid (those millions of years ago, clearly), superheroes were the "good guys." And, naturally, the BadGuy™ was trying to ruin everything. He was the enemy. And the good guys had to save the world from them at all costs.

This is a common theme, and has been since forever. Superman needs to save the world. Spiderman needs to save New York. 

Chance of Lawsuit: 0%. Chance this took way too long to make: 85%

I mean, if BaconMan had to stop the evil, dreaded Mr. Spinach, then by God he did.

But now, that's "scary." 

Above: Pure, unadulterated, calorie-inducing terror.

I mean, seriously, when are we going to stop being afraid of everything? Without going too much into the politics of it, spend 5 minutes on the news and you'll be hit with a montage of NorthKoreanBirdFluGunsFromOuterSpaceWarming©

Dear NSA: Why aren't we funding this??

By shielding kindergarteners from superheroes and the like, we're setting the example of "these are scary, and scary is bad." It just reinforces the more adult message of "don't try to be a hero" even in situations where a hero is exactly what's needed.

Instead, we're force-fed the constant message of reliance on anything and everything except ourselves. No, don't buy yourself a gun for protection, just call the police. No, don't try and stop the robbery, just give him what he wants. 

There's no valor in defeat, and we've become a nation of self-defeat. We're our own biggest enemy.

... this had absolutely nothing to do with jobs. Meh, screw it. 

Humor? I don't even know her!

The Internet: A totally normal place.

Humor: it's what makes us laugh. It staves off so much of the darkness the world has (or appears to have). Laughing has been shown to give you some awesome health benefits. It even works out your abs!

Submarine Ninjas laugh for 3 hours every day during training.

Laughter is something that is absolutely vital for just facing day-to-day life. Too often we're caught up in so many things at once: bills, money, jobs (or job searching), pets, kids, cleaning, errands, world domination plans, and that IOU you have with JoJo the Gorilla...

(Brocken Inaglory from Wikipedia took this picture. I took it from him. I am a bad person.)

"Don't you fucking cross me, buddy...'evolved' my cousin's bright blue ass."

All of life's dealings have a way of taking over your brain and making you think you're drowning in it all. And that's why we have laughter. It's a lifeboat for when the gloom and doom hits us. 

Today, I applied to Mozilla. It's the company that came out with Firefox, and their job application was a lot simpler, more fun, and I got to literally swear in the "why you want this job" section. Whoo! They even asked if I had any webpage or blog... 

Oh God... 

"Dear God, this blog sucks... Send in the Frog."

Ah well. What's another week of poverty, anyway? I mean, the sketchy back-alley Chinese sweatshop down the street is always hiring...

When you own half the government's debt, all of the sudden OSHA seems to just go away...

Got any jokes? How about a funny story? For the love of God and humanity, leave a damned comment about it.  Tell your friends and family about this blog if you like it! All pictures are lovingly stolen  procured and credited. I can guarantee fewer than 3 animals were harmed in the making of this blog. The rest, I had no affiliation with.

Having a Hobby

During the job searching process, there can be a LOT of downtime. You do a batch of applications and then your brain goes on strike to demand higher wages, fewer hours, and vacation time.

Pictured: "Vacation Time." Also, my allowance for this month.

When you're doing a bunch of monotonous, seemingly pointless exercises involving re-typing the resume you just freaking submitted to them 18 times, it can get a bit boring. The only break in the static dreariness is the occasional situational question:

An Angry Guest™ has entered the hotel lobby and is protesting Obamacare by shooting pigs and yelling "Daddy's Home!" at the top of his lungs. How would you address the situation?

A. Take cover, draw your service pistol, and shoot the pig-slaying jerk. Pigs are people, too!
B. Start drinking again.
C. Join in the revelry and slay the pigs. There'll be tons of bacon afterwards!
D. This isn't real, John. You're in a coma. 

It's the little things in life.

When you finally get to shut the computer down (or elect to continue your eye strain to write blogs, like my masochistic self), you get this feeling of "well that was nice. Let's stare at the wall for the next 15 minutes."

"I swear, that one brick is sentient..."

You need something to fill the time. And whatever you choose, from writing to archery to training monkeys to steal for you, is your hobby.

For me, my hobby is baking. 

In fact, right now I've got a [haha, nice try Fiancée. You'll find out later] rising in a bowl right now, soon to be baked into delicious goodness. 

There's just something about baking that I find fascinating. It's part science and part art. There's measurements and finesse. And the best part...

you get to eat your creation.

Not only is baking a culinary exercise, but I've also learned a lot about it through practicing like this. Last week I made two breads without any recipe at all. 

They sucked.

But that was okay, because everything in life is a learning process. Even job searching is a learning process. And while it might suck hardcore today, tomorrow is always a new opportunity. A new journey to find new lands.

And a new indigenous people to subdue!

Do you have any hobbies? Let's discuss them! Comment below! 

Like this blog? I know I do. Tell your friends and family about it and send them here!

Are you an employer looking for a sarcastic person who constantly flirts with copyright infringement? Leave a comment to discuss our potential partnership!

I need an In-Store GPS system

"Some men are born great plumbers. Others have great plumberness thrust upon them."

"My mustache doubles as a pipe snake."

Alas, not by birthright was my moment of truth thrust upon me.

There was a sink.

In the sink, was a drain.

And in the drain, was a clog.

(Thanks, Wikipedia Official Cobbler Berkh!)

Dammit, girl! Your shoe habits are out of control!

And, naturally, it was up to me to recover remove the clog. 

First, however, I needed to procure clog removing super serum from my local neighborhood WalMart. Now, let's make this clear first and foremost: WalMarts come in all shapes, sizes, and degrees of utmost terror and confusion. This WalMart is by far the worst I've been in. 

It's small, it's lit just enough to prevent the furbies from coming alive, and whoever was in charge of organizing the layout of the store just also happened to be a member of your local meth lab.

These are troubling times, indeed.

So I enter the store, biohazard suit and all, and begin searching for anything to do with cleaning. Alas! One of those hanging signs! A glorious sign from the heavens! Where is the cleaning section, o prophet?!

"Cleaning and Paper"? Alright... I guess those two make sense. 

*I proceed forward to the next sign and look up*

Wut.

I looked around, puzzled. Where the hell did cleaning go?? I found nearby vacuums and thought "Hey, those clean! Maybe I walked past it!"

Nope. T'was just an illusion. A red herring. The preying upon my soul by a dirt devil. 

"Dyson: We roll on a ball to bust yours."

I walked aimlessly around, looking. I checked the WalMart website to see if they had it in stock, and they did. WHERE THE HELL WAS IT?!?!

Well, in accordance with the wishes of John H. Crackhead, the section was in the opposite corner from the sign. In the "Grocery and Pharmacy" side of the store. Hiding like a dog that got too close to the Eagles stadium.

"Did they get rid of Michael Vick yet?"

All in all it was quite the journey, taking 20 damned minutes to find something that should've been found in 5. When it comes to shopping, I am very much a guy: "Go in, grab it, get the hell out." 

And after all of this excellent work, I got to go back and work lovingly and tenderly on a clogged sink.

... screw this.

Do you have any WalMart or shopping horror stories? Post them in a comment below! Also, be sure to tell absolutely everyone and everything you know and see to read this blog or I will hunt you down. Thanks for reading!

The Value of Maintaining Hope

I graduated from college on 18 May, 2013. It is now 27th. Of October. 162 days.

When I graduated, I was fortunate enough to be gifted waaaay too much money from my family, and I am eternally grateful and I will pay that back, or forward, some day.

Today, I have a balance of $10.04. Or, if I'm feeling proud, I get to say I have 5,068.19 Costa Rican Colóns.

That's a lot of colons. 

Naturally, this is a bit rough. And there's been a lot of time where I've just dazed off into the abyss, thinking "damn." 

It's easy, in these moments, to focus on everything going wrong. And I'm sure that I'm not alone in this; my dad's been unemployed a bunch of times. In this economy, as it is, there are millions looking for that one job, so they can get that paycheck to pay the bills.

The important thing, in these moments, is to count your blessings and keep up your hope. I've got a great family, a wonderful and generous fiancée, good friends. I've got a degree, a car, and super awesome writing abilities. Oh, and humility. I'm the most humble person I know. (Html 6 is going to have a <sarcasm> tag. Or it should).

We need these foundations in order to press on in these moments of faltering so that we CAN get to that moment where we ourselves can be the foundation for them when they need it. That, perhaps, is the very basis of our humanity: that we need help, and that we are made to give it.

Picture of colons taken from Wikipedia, created by user BruceBlaus, who is kinda too good at drawing colons, so I'm pretty sure I don't really want to meet him. 

Side-Topic Saturday #1: GO SOX!

As of the current moment, the author of this blog is living in exile currently away from his homeland, Boston.

For those who have yet to visit this excellent place, let me give you the basic run down:

1. Boston is a gorgeous, friendly city, with all the perks of being a city but none of the pushiness.
2. You want pizza? Go to Regina's pizzeria in the North End (our "little Italy"). You want Irish? Head to Southie. We have a Chinatown. You can't walk a block in Boston without running into just about every race, creed, and planet of origin.

A poet laureate from Boston, Yoda is.

3. We have the best sports team. Period.

As I write this, the Red Sox are going into battle against the St. Louis Cardinals. To put that in perspective...

Boston is the very foundation of this nation, the home of liberty, the first major seaport, the first to march to the industrial revolution, the bringer-forth of Presidents and Patriots alike.

St. Louis has trollies. 

Ding ding ding went the... ya know what? This place sucks.

I mean, sure, I'm certain they're perfectly nice trollies. Really. 

The "M" is for "Meh."

If only the World Series took into account the relative worth of the cities contributing... 

Go Red Sox!

But. But. But... IT SAYS "ENTRY LEVEL"!!

Oh the joys of the Entry-Level job posting...

We consider "already in the building" as your "entry."

While I wasn't exactly looking for these jobs in particular, I wanted to make the point:

Entry-Level simply isn't "entry-level" anymore.

There once was a time where employers would look to employ graduates, knowing that they had the knowledge, just not the experience, the real-life training. "You've got a degree in this field? Alright, come with us. You'll only get better." There was a certain hopefulness to it. And now, it is gone.

A degree in Donut Perfecting Sciences?! YOU'RE HIRED!

Nowadays, you're expected to somehow focus on your education AND get experience. There are two ways to do this:

1. Be exceptionally gifted, hardworking, lucky, or any combination of those three.

2. Bullshit. 

And therein lies the problem. Education is no longer about being academic. It's now about either vomiting back information without thought, or being creative enough to lie through your teeth. 

In one of my classes, we read the "Pedagogy of the Oppressed" by Paulo Freire, who finally launched Portugal into greatness.

"No. We're not part of Spain. Really." ~Some Portuguese travel brochure, maybe.

In the book, Freire spouts a whole lot of socialism all over the place. This, I did not like so much. However, he *did* have some points on the educational methodology in place right now. He phrased it as students being "banks" of knowledge which teachers "deposit into" and subsequently "withdraw from." In other words, we're not being taught to think, we're being taught to simply remember. And, believe it or not, the author of this blog actually found common ground with a socialist.

... that actually hurt typing.

Anyways, nowadays colleges produce more bullshit than the entire U.S. beef industry. It's gotten to the point where degrees are now worth little more than the paper they're printed on.

Pictured above: Your degree. Also, a double entendre if I ever saw one.

And what happens when you leave college? The knowledge is rather useless, and you get right back into bullshitting again. Do you have experience with Microsoft Excel? SUUUURE! Do you have experience in customer service? well not actually, I mean I've... YES, OF COURSE, CLEANING UP AMOEBAS FROM SMALL PUDDLES TAUGHT ME SO MUCH ABOUT CUSTOMER SERVICE.

It's a wonder anyone gets hired: colleges train you to bullshit, employers seem to want bullshit, and if you DON'T bullshit well, you drop out and can't find a job.

In short, the world is bullshit.

Day 100: They still do not realize I am a human...

Hello, World!

Today is an exciting day!

... alright, not really. But this is the start of my blogging my journey to get hired.

A little background information is in order. I *am a* [thanks, m'dear, for reminding me to retake kindergarten grammar] 22 year old man, I graduated college with a B.A. in Political Science (commonly referred to as "wow, that's a shit degree"). I've been searching for jobs since May and it's been quite the roller coaster. My most promising prospect ended up falling hard, so alas, I am here.

And here's me. With a fish.

I don't really expect this blog to get much attention (it'd be awesome if it did!), but it is nice to have a small place here to vent or simply talk.

This blog will focus on some things, primarily my attempts at getting hired and the anecdotes and hilarity that may ensue. I will include other things from time to time, and maybe start side-blogs to cover those issues more readily.

Let us begin with a Sears application story! Huzzah!

Yesterday I applied to a Loss Prevention Associate posting. It was... interesting. As usual, there are always the questions that are well-intentioned and all, but I can't help but want to make crap up with them...

1. Have you been convicted of a felony in the past 5 years?
A. Convicted? No. Guilty of several? I'd prefer not to say...

2. Are you Hispanic? Yes or No.
A. Is this one of those middle-school notes? "Do you like me? Circle one: Yes No."

3. What race(s) are you? Check all that apply: African-American, Asian, Caucasian, Hispanic*, Kerbal, Martian....
A. Did you NOT just freaking ask me if I was Hispanic?

4. Are you willing to submit to a drug test?
A. Certainly! I know all my drugs very well! Ever been to Columbia?

And so on and so forth.

This particular application had, at the end of it, the dreaded SIMULATION OF TERROR.

Pictured above: a much more enjoyable simulation.

Needless to say, it was cheesy as Hell and I probably failed it hard. You basically were a K-Mart employee (the horror!) and various people came up to you and asked for help. You, however, didn't walk them to an aisle, or give them various statistics, or do anything a normal customer service person would. Nope. Your noble and honorable task was to be a standing iPad Wielder. BEHOLD, THE GLORY! This simulation, complete with terrible voiceovers and juxtapositioned images of people in different poses, went about the following way:

*Behold, the single customer approacheth...*

Excuse me, I placed an order on your website for a KillMaster3000 Chainsaw and wanted to pick it up.

Sure thing, sir/ma'am! I'LL JUST LOOK UP YOUR ORDER ON MY HANDY DANDY IPAD!

Excellent, my red-shirted minion! 

Could you tell me your name, address, place of birth, social security number, credit card number, and favorite color?

*The customer complies, and you get to write all this shit down on your magical iPad.*

Would that be all today, sir/ma'am?

Yes, thank you.   

Sweet God. Seriously? I'd be a walking iPad-equipped website searcher? I thought my job was to keep people from stealing shit. WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?!?!