Very sad, little man.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Worst Cover Letter Ever
Dear Ms. [Shark Bubbles],
Congratulations! You've just found your very own copy enthusiast. And why, you might ask, is kudos in order? Allow me to divulge.
For four years, my brain was subjected to an intensive, thought reforming program through which I obtained the necessary skills and qualifications to make me a successful and outstanding human, in particular, a copywriter. This program, known to some as college, armed me with scholastic and creative bullets so powerful they could put a hole through the Earth, or at least provoke thought.
Armed with these bullets I stood at the front line of global agencies such as [Agency #1] and [Agency #2, where Shark Bubbles currently works], performing laborious tasks for free, all in the name of experience. Deep in the trenches it was clear to me, this line of work was something I'd willingly put blood, sweat and tears into.
Now I am ready for battle. I am unarmed but equipped with ammo. My ammunition: letters. Letters strung together to form words, words carefully selected to form sentences, sentences that, if crafted well enough, can influence something as powerful as the human mind.
I believe in the power of words. I thrive on this power, and it excites me that I am capable of writing copy that can make someone laugh, cry, feel pain, and even give a person goosebumps.
Let me be your weapon.
[Unfortunate Junior Copywriter]
Congratulations! You've just found your very own copy enthusiast. And why, you might ask, is kudos in order? Allow me to divulge.
For four years, my brain was subjected to an intensive, thought reforming program through which I obtained the necessary skills and qualifications to make me a successful and outstanding human, in particular, a copywriter. This program, known to some as college, armed me with scholastic and creative bullets so powerful they could put a hole through the Earth, or at least provoke thought.
Armed with these bullets I stood at the front line of global agencies such as [Agency #1] and [Agency #2, where Shark Bubbles currently works], performing laborious tasks for free, all in the name of experience. Deep in the trenches it was clear to me, this line of work was something I'd willingly put blood, sweat and tears into.
Now I am ready for battle. I am unarmed but equipped with ammo. My ammunition: letters. Letters strung together to form words, words carefully selected to form sentences, sentences that, if crafted well enough, can influence something as powerful as the human mind.
I believe in the power of words. I thrive on this power, and it excites me that I am capable of writing copy that can make someone laugh, cry, feel pain, and even give a person goosebumps.
Let me be your weapon.
[Unfortunate Junior Copywriter]
Thursday, September 17, 2009
My Life according to Queens of the Stone Age
Best of Archival Facebook Minutiae (07-09)
Are you male or female?
Little Sister
Describe yourself:
I Was a Teenage Hand Model
How Do You Feel:
I Think I Lost My Headache
Describe where you currently live:
“You’ve Got a Killer Scene There, Man”
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Into the Hollow
Your favourite form of transportation:
Walkin on the Sidewalks
Your best friend is:
Monsters in the Parasol
Your favourite colour is:
Tangled Up in Plaid
What Is the Weather Like?
Feel Good Hit of the Summer
Favourite Time Of Day:
No One Knows
If your life was a T.V. show, what would it be called?
Everybody Knows That You Are Insane
Your relationships:
Misfit Love
Your fear:
Someone’s in the Wolf
What is the best advice you have to give?
Suture Up Your Future
If you could change your name, you would change it to
Avon
Thought for the day:
You Can’t Quit Me Baby
How I would like to die?
In the Fade
My soul's present condition:
Go With the Flow
My Motto:
Better Living Through Chemistry
Are you male or female?
Little Sister
Describe yourself:
I Was a Teenage Hand Model
How Do You Feel:
I Think I Lost My Headache
Describe where you currently live:
“You’ve Got a Killer Scene There, Man”
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Into the Hollow
Your favourite form of transportation:
Walkin on the Sidewalks
Your best friend is:
Monsters in the Parasol
Your favourite colour is:
Tangled Up in Plaid
What Is the Weather Like?
Feel Good Hit of the Summer
Favourite Time Of Day:
No One Knows
If your life was a T.V. show, what would it be called?
Everybody Knows That You Are Insane
Your relationships:
Misfit Love
Your fear:
Someone’s in the Wolf
What is the best advice you have to give?
Suture Up Your Future
If you could change your name, you would change it to
Avon
Thought for the day:
You Can’t Quit Me Baby
How I would like to die?
In the Fade
My soul's present condition:
Go With the Flow
My Motto:
Better Living Through Chemistry
Friday, August 28, 2009
Goodbye Hilly
I often lament that I don't have a Wayback Machine. So many amazing shows happened before I ventured out into the world. I caught some good ones in Michigan, and eventually some great ones after I escaped to New York, but I would jump in that baby in a second and revisit the legends I love.
CBGBs has a unique place in the hearts of music fans. The home to the Ramones, Patti Smith, Television, the Talking Heads and numerous other bands that changed music (and the music biz) forever. How I wish I could go see the Ramones, playing their three chord songs, back in the mid Seventies, in gritty, decaying and bankrupt NYC.
I made my first journey to NYC when I was nearly 20 years old, in March of 1988. CBGBs was at the top of my list. I just wanted to see it. I didn't even care if I saw a show there. I beheld the fabled club as I strolled down Bleecker Street with my boyfriend of the time, and grabbed my camera. There it was, in all its shabby glory. And now it and the man who made it all possible are gone.
My friend Scott was part of a gallery exhibition that sought to raise money for CBs a few years back when it had hit hard times. NYC rents were raging out of control, and venue after venue was either moving across the river to Brooklyn, or disappearing from the city altogether. I never for a moment imagined that CBs could fail. I was confident the fundraiser would do the trick, and the club would be around for another 30 years.
I hung out with my friends for a while, checking out photos and drinking cheap wine. When I had a good buzz on, I decided to buy a book of photos from the club and went up to Hilly to thank him for keeping it alive all those years. I told him my story, about how a 19 year old kid from the bowels of rural Michigan could hardly wait until I got to see the place. He laughed. After all that time, it still amazed him what his creation had meant to people. He autographed my book and shook my hand.
I heard today that he died from lung cancer two days ago. Thank you Hilly. I will always love CBGBs, what it was and what it represented, and the music you helped to unleash upon the world.
CBGBs has a unique place in the hearts of music fans. The home to the Ramones, Patti Smith, Television, the Talking Heads and numerous other bands that changed music (and the music biz) forever. How I wish I could go see the Ramones, playing their three chord songs, back in the mid Seventies, in gritty, decaying and bankrupt NYC.
I made my first journey to NYC when I was nearly 20 years old, in March of 1988. CBGBs was at the top of my list. I just wanted to see it. I didn't even care if I saw a show there. I beheld the fabled club as I strolled down Bleecker Street with my boyfriend of the time, and grabbed my camera. There it was, in all its shabby glory. And now it and the man who made it all possible are gone.
My friend Scott was part of a gallery exhibition that sought to raise money for CBs a few years back when it had hit hard times. NYC rents were raging out of control, and venue after venue was either moving across the river to Brooklyn, or disappearing from the city altogether. I never for a moment imagined that CBs could fail. I was confident the fundraiser would do the trick, and the club would be around for another 30 years.
I hung out with my friends for a while, checking out photos and drinking cheap wine. When I had a good buzz on, I decided to buy a book of photos from the club and went up to Hilly to thank him for keeping it alive all those years. I told him my story, about how a 19 year old kid from the bowels of rural Michigan could hardly wait until I got to see the place. He laughed. After all that time, it still amazed him what his creation had meant to people. He autographed my book and shook my hand.
I heard today that he died from lung cancer two days ago. Thank you Hilly. I will always love CBGBs, what it was and what it represented, and the music you helped to unleash upon the world.
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