Tag Archives: unemployment

Drunk Thoughts on Global Capitalism

8 Jan

empty brandy bottle

Previously on “Drunk Thoughts”

Last night I consumed a pint of Christian Brothers® brandy from Royale Junior Liquor Market and sat down to determine my position on global capitalism and the future of the labor market.  This was not inspired by Drunk History:

There are three people who want a job for every job. This doesn’t count people who said “fuck it” and just left the workforce. People underemployed, part time, cleaning toilets with a lit degree.

We don’t make anything physical in America now. The thing we do make, computer code– Mark Zuckerberg is lobbying congress so he can import labor for it. Otherwise he might have to train people. Those people might take that training and do something with it other than make him richer. Can’t have that.

It will get worse. Practically, there will be no jobs soon. First you will be replaced by cheap overseas labor. Then cheap overseas labor will be replaced by robots.

We hear this and we ask: but what will we do for work?

How will we be slaves? Continue reading

Unemployment Diary: Things Fall Apart

20 Oct
image stolen from burrard-lucas.com

image stolen from burrard-lucas.com

AAAAHHH money money money money money. Relax. You have enough to pay the credit card bill. OKCupid coaching will pay enough to register the car. Unemployment will come through. You can bill work for leads. Everything will be fine. Except it won’t because you have no god damn money. You have no god damn money. Your credit is destroyed and there is no way you will get a job, ever. Ever. You worked beneath your talents for eight years and this is what it got you. Nothing. You saved nothing, learned nothing. You were miserable for nothing. Now you are miserable for less than nothing.

Let me say this again: there are no jobs out there. Back in Spring when I didn’t want to work, I still dutifully applied. I applied for jobs for which I am fully qualified, overqualified. I took care on my resume and cover letter. I have hired people; I know to keep it short. Nothing. I had one interview, a group interview. A Beverly Hills residential Realtor™, a white man the color of an Irish Setter, made 20 of us complete 2 hours worth of tasks that simulated being his assistant. Other than that it was finance scams. One interview– no, one group bake-off– for over a hundred resumes. And I’m good. Continue reading

Financial Leaders of the Future

16 Oct

nigerian scam

This woman is never going to come through with the money. The check with the funds was returned to her client, she says. It was money to turn my apartment into a Home Office. Insufficient address. It will be re-sent to me today by UPS or Fedex. The sufficient address was on my resume. The sufficient address was presented clearly in the body of an email. But the check was returned. How long until they ask for my bank account. I give it two days. I know you prefer to be paid by check. But in the interest of time can we send a Western Union money transfer. Can we wire it directly to your account. We will need your routing number, account number, online banking password, and Social Security number. Her English is out of Google Translate. She is in Thailand for eight weeks teaching a seminar. She is a portrait photographer. I am unaware of a market for eight week portrait photography seminars in Thailand, but– what if. She offered me the job. The unemployment claim form says: did you REFUSE any work? Continue reading

Book of Lamentations

1 Oct

Job.boils2

My asshole bleeds and bleeds now. From shitting so much. I shit, I wipe my bloody ass, grind the shit right into my bloodstream. Shit that is filled with third world parasites. I should see a doctor. But what are they gonna do. Been through this before. Round 1: ride it out for a few more days, they will say. Stay hydrated. Eat a high fiber diet. On your first visit, a doctor gives you as much new information as the warning on a pack of cigarettes. “Uh, try living healthier. Do healthy things you’ve heard about on TV.” Continue reading

To Whom It May Concern,

27 Sep
image stolen from careerealism.com

image stolen from careerealism.com

I’m writing to apply for the (TITLE GOES HERE) position you posted on Craigslist. Per your request, below you will find a detailed cover letter. My resume is also attached.

Or rather, a .pdf of a medium-resolution color portrait of my scrotum is attached, entitled “Delicious Tacos Resume.” Taken during the recent heat wave. Note the varicose veins. Like the back of your eyelids when you blink after lightning. The hairs, uniformly white. Wiry. I trim vigilantly but the brain coral contours of the human sac ensure that I’ll have missed a few. They grow to inordinate lengths. Form elaborate kinks and curls. Take on lint. Chunks of skin. Brown and pink wads stuck to them, hideously dangling. I have the balls of a one hundred twenty year old man, in other words. But rest assured I am of prime working age. Continue reading

Unemployment Diary: Timing

18 Apr

jaguar in cage

So it’s great to not work but it has its own set of dangers. You will do nothing with your time; you will sit at a desk and jerk off all day while it’s 73 degrees and sunny outside and people are walking around with interesting stories and the great books of the world sit ignored on the shelf of a library that’s within walking distance. In your own home you have musical instruments, you have a machine that can teach you any language in the world, but the machine also shows you young Thai girls choking on big veiny dicks and I don’t need to tell you which one you end up picking. There is a whole other country, another culture, another language right next door; mountains and deserts and jungles– jungles! With jaguars in them! Toltecs in those crazy blankets with faces like temple carvings selling fruit in some high mountain pass, dark eyed girls and cheap beer. But you’re too scared to go to it. You could be kidnapped. Kidnapped away from what, jerking off? Arrested? Your life is a prison. The difference between this apartment and Mexican jail is I have a slightly better toilet. Continue reading

Unemployment Diary: The Job Market

21 Feb

jobbureau

You get scared when you leave a white collar job that you’re gonna end up picking up trash.  Well, not to worry. You can’t get that job.  It’s a union gig.  A city gig. You get scared that you’re gonna get trapped in some soul-crushing civil service shit for years like Bukowski. But you can’t get a job at the post office.  They’re cutting back.  You have to know somebody.  You can’t get a job flipping burgers.  You’re overqualified (in my case, this is true). You can’t do shit labor on a construction site.  Half of Mexico is up here trying to do that.

So what can you do.  You can get a job in a STEM field, they tell you.  If only you had gotten your degree in a STEM field, you would be in great demand.  Science, technology, engineering, mathematics.  A computer programmer, in other words.  Do you know how fucking hard that shit is?  I could barely pass my intro to C++ class, and I’m smart.  Your ability to do that shit is purely genetic, and it’s the same gene that makes you smell like cheese and talk like that pedophile’s RealDoll from Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.  Hearing that little pussy talk makes me think we need more bullying in schools.  There is no talented computer programmer on the face of this earth who can buy a six pack at the liquor store and make small talk with the clerk normally.  There certainly isn’t one who can speak to a woman.   Continue reading

Unemployment Diary: What Do You Do

3 Feb

???

Pussy is heroin for the ego.  And I need a fucking hit.  It’s been a month.  Little more.  New Year’s Day was the last time.  I know I said New Year’s Eve is an ass desert and don’t go out and fuck New Year’s and etc.  But I was wrong; I took home an attractive woman I met at a  great party, and fucked her in the morning when I was sober enough for my dick to work.  Don’t ever listen to me.  But that was a month ago.

Gotta get back on OKCupid now but what do you say, you know.  All girls want to know what you do.  I’m unemployed.  I had put that I had a shitty job, but, a job is a job.  I had listed that my income was between forty and fifty thousand dollars a year.  Now it’s zero.  When girls asked what do you do, I would lie, I would tell them some outlandish shit.  But it was a lie with a powerful truth behind it, which was: I work on movies and TV shows you know about and love and I get to meet famous people and, you know, I have a place to go in the fucking morning Monday through Friday. Continue reading

Reader Mailbag: What Are You Gonna Do

16 Jan

Various concerned readers ask:

Did you get fired yet?  When are you getting fired?  Do you know what you’re going to do for a job?  Are you scared? Etc.

depression unemployment

I’m still working, but not for long.  Any day.  I have found no job, and that’s because I want no job.  I want to be unemployed. I want to take a break and write all day, and fuck you, that’s what I’m gonna do.  Not “fuck you” as in you, but you know, naysayers.  I have fear and insecurity about it, that my writing won’t be any good.  But fuck you, it will be good.  Or at least, it’ll start out at whatever level it’s at and, one hopes, get better as I practice.  Because what you’re seeing is 25 minutes per day.  Maybe an hour on the weekends.  As soon as I get a good idea going I have to get up and go do some work related shit.  No more.
Continue reading

Protected: Diary 9-18-12: Suck My Fucking Dick, Mitt Romney

20 Sep

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