Baby's First Cover Letter

Guys, this is the real deal. I am showing you an unedited cover letter sent in to our offices. My boss handed it to me as he passed by, saying, “I think I’m gonna need coffee before I finish this.” Here’s why:

To Whom It May Concern:

Have you ever had such passion, such a burning desire to accomplish something that others could almost see the fire raging in your eyes? If there was fifteen-foot brick wall that fell in between you and your goal, you’d grab the nearest rope and start climbing. Obstacles, feel my wrath; you won’t be in the way for long. Allow me to introduce my way of accomplishing goals; they just get done. I’ve applied this method at work for a year now. My co-workers call me an animal. I reply, “Jason’ is just fine, thanks.”

Greetings! I cannot stress enough the interesting and anticipation I have for obtaining this position at your magazine. What I bring to your company is a consummate work ethic and a detail-oriented approach to writing. Although my official title may be “staff writer,” I’m a jack of all trades…

[I’m going to skip the bit about the magazines he’s worked for, cause it’d probably get me in some sort of internet trouble]

I am also familiar with Adobe software such as Photoshop and Acrobat reader, and possess a basic knowledge of HTML. A fast, efficient web browser, I usually find what I’m looking for within minutes. I’ve also assembled my PC from scratch—twice.

I’m a proactive learner who plans carefully and performs efficiently. My writing passion radiates throughout my work. It would be a privilege to apply my skills as an editorial assistant at your magazine.

Cordially,
Jason Newton*

OH MY GOD. This is too good! I think my favorite line is, “Obstacles, feel my wrath; you won’t be in the way for long.”
No, no, I think it’s, “A fast, efficient web browser, I usually find what I’m looking for within minutes.”

Um, I think it’s called “Google,” Jason.




*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

You Don't Own Me!

I think facebook is trying to bring slavery back, much in the way that JT tried to bring back sexy.

I, as a blacktress, am offended by this.

Today I went in to the good ol' f-book to see who wanted to be friends, who had a new special friend, and who was kicking my butt in Scrabulous. I haven't really been into facebook since they decided to add more applications than an Ivy League school, but I go along for the ride because seeing the number of internet friends I have gives me a boost on really rough days. Usually I ignore the applications people ask me to add, knowing that this will do nothing but clutter up my page full of hilarious, wry quotes, and clever inside jokes that friends write on my wall--you know, just to see if you remember that time that really funny thing happened a couple years ago.
Today a particular application caught my eye. Invited by a dude from Denmark who I met at a hostel in New Orleans 3 years ago (I kid you not, you know how random f-book gets), it read:

M- L sent a request using Owned!:

Hey , I just bought you. Find out how much I think you're worth!

Block This Application | Ignore All Invites From This Friend

Um, excuse me. Did he just say he bought a blacktress? In the words of Whitney--hell to the no!!!

Is facebook trying to put me back on the auction block? I think it's quite humorous that only two people have asked me to add this application, and they are both men who are whiter than a monster truck rally held in a ski resort.* One of them was a dude I made out with who then had no love for a blacktress--he most certainly doesn't get to buy me when he already got some chocolate milk for free!!!

I'm sorry, but this application is just too much. When it was pink ribbons and vampires, I was okay with it. I even went along with a good game of Oregon Trail (always caulk the wagon) and some Scrabulous (even though it takes 12 weeks to finish a game). Then bitches started asking me to take a quiz to determine "what kind of American accent I have." I thought facebook was being run by a monkey with Down's Syndrome.

Now I'm starting to believe it's being run by my former Massa John Nealy (who was straight trippin' on me cause I spoke Dutch and not English--um, just be glad someone let me learn one language!). I haven't even clicked the link that that says "what's my price?" cause I'm sure it'll put me on some sneaky government list of people to re-slave. Besides, if I'm worth less than Beyonce, I'll just be really pissed.



*could that even happen? I don't know, but it sounds like two things that are stereotypically Caucasian. Maybe I should ask that guy who does Stuff White People Like before I go throwing these terms around. Next thing you know, Aliza Shvarts will come after me with some blood in a cup, saying it's her unborn biracial baby.