Dear Hiring Managers...And Women

Being a recent college grad without a job, I often find myself filling out these things called job applications. They're horrible. And every time I finish filling out one of these applications I am left feeling like an unqualified piece of shit. 

Under "recent job history" I often write, "Binge watched How I Met Your Mother 45 times." Under GPA I am left to write "C's get degrees, bro." And under volunteer work the only thing I can ever think of is, "I voluntarily ate an entire extra large pizza, family sized bag of cool ranch Doritos, and binge watched How I Met Your Mother for a 46th time."

The point is, on paper I am shit. Or I am not shit. Okay, it really depends on how you define the word "shit" in this situation. If you define it in the normal sense of the world, as a smelly pile of waste, then I am shit. But if you define it like all the cool kiddos do, as being super cool, then I ain't shit, bro... Y'know?

And this doesn't only apply for jobs, the same applies for the female species. When they look at my less than athletic body, my less than attractive face, and my lacking of muscles, they instantly count me out. They look at me and think, "Wow that is one weird looking dude," "Wow, I didn't know God had a sense of humor, "Wow, I think I am going blind because that dude is just that ugly, "Wow, if God said the only way to get into Heaven would be to sleep with that uggo, I would look God straight in the eye...or whatever he has....and ask for a one way ticket straight to hell, because there is no way I'd sleep with that ugly ass dude."

But if we were able to get past the piece of paper that says I am an utter failure (or my repulsive body) and get to know me, the real me, you will see that I am really quite cool...quite chill... quite ill...quite illmatic.

The cool kids on the block often call me, "One of them."

Some people would say that my personality is, "Quite charming." And by some people, I mean my mom. And by "Quite charming," what she really said was, "I am so disappointed that you are my son, you ugly piece of shit. Get out of my face. And get out of my house. And get out of my life....but, first, will please empty the dishwasher... then get the fuck out, you ugly son of a me."

The point is...... will somebody please just hire me, already?

​And will somebody just date me, already?

Thanks,
Ryan "Better Than He Looks On Paper" Ginsberg