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September 22, 2008 | by  | in Features |
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How to get your dream job

So you want a job. Well why should I hire you? I know that you just spent twenty bajillion dollars getting into debt so you can say you’re educated, but have you got any experience?

Of course not. I mean look at your stupid haircut and your big fat old dummy head, you look like a bird that swallowed a gorilla. Look at your farty diddle nose and your zits exploding right now.

Hey, I’m kidding. Relax, man. But this is what prospective employers say to people like you. So you better just listen up and get a decent haircut. You could get a buzzcut army style haircut, so you look strict and merciless, or get dreadlocks so the other people at work know that you are selling drugs, or you could ponytail it – but I wouldn’t go with any of these. Prospective employers know hair can just get in the way, and long hair can get caught in machinery – hair that is too styley can cause creatures of the opposite sexism to be far too distracted by you – so shave it off. That’s right, number zero, razor style, all over buddy, trust me. This is the ultimate job-getting haircut.

Now everyone hates swastikas, right? Swastikas are racist and bad. But the symbol of the Swastika originally goes back to the Tibetan cult of the Romper Stomper and was a peace symbol. But the swastikas we see these days have been reversed to the dark side of the force, Luke. So don’t get a swastika tattooed on your forehead. No, man, what you need is a BACKWARDS swastika tattooed on your forehead. This will show that you are against racism and persecution. So when the boss is showing you round the workplace, everyone will be looking at you thinking “Oh wow, this guy must be really laid back and ethnically sensitive and not dominating at all” and the boss will see you made quite an impression.

Now before your interview you should have a few beers to make you cleverer. You sceptics will probably laugh at me, but science has shown that beer has these things in it called “molecules” which go into your brain and help to make you win arguments at parties by talking in the loudest voice. Let the jury see that stupid people don’t talk about molecules. Beer also helps you to relax, so have a few before the drive to the interview so you aren’t stressing out and getting too much road rage at all the uptight people who go around staying in the same lane, and indicating, and only going when the light is green, like sheep or whatever.

In fact, you should actually not go to the interview at all – if you do you will definitely not get the job. Know how I know? Well, in the future, when humans have colonised Mars, in the distant future, the year 2000, we will have time travel machines. So just wait until the future when you are really old and then you will be able to teleport into the interview, when you actually have some experience. If you have a really gnarly old school car like mine, a white Daihatsu, with some kick-ass asymmetrical racing scrapes to help it go faster, then you should just teleport your whole car into the reception area. This is cool. This is EXTREMELY COOL. NOW YOU ARE THE MAN. If you do this, everyone in the office will sleep with you, especially the ugly ones, who are incidentally much easier to emotionally manipulate. You will instantly be in the cool cliquey crowd like Beverly Hills 90210. You remember how Brian Austin Green’s character, David, was a real geeky kid, and then he was going out with Donna after a few seasons? That is almost a parallel of how your coolness level will transform with a teleporting Daihatsu. Trust me.

So when the boss sees the degree that you have spent most of your life paying off, throws it in the rubbish and asks if you have any experience, you can tell him all the things you’ve learned in your long illustrious life. Put your entire head into his ear, and tell him what he’s doing wrong, by jove these young people have a few things to learn, don’t they? But you are really old and you have forgotten why you just teleported way into the past in your shitty car, and you lose track of the end of a sentence when you haven’t even finished the beginning. You can’t remember your name. You don’t know anything, you’ve got Alzheimer’s and your bits and pieces are too shrivelled and dried up to go sleeping with anyone. Your hands have arthritis and your body is a wreck. In fact, you just wet your pants. This is what the boss is telling you. Then he will say “So why the hell should I hire you? I don’t believe it! Get out!”

But THEN he will say: “Wait a minute: you’re an idiot who obviously can’t do anything, think properly, and no-one likes you? You smell bad, you talk and talk without ever actually doing anything useful, you boss everyone around without ever helping out, and you wet yourself? Who in their right mind is going to hire you?

HANG ON! YOU ARE PERFECT FOR MANAGEMENT!”

So there you go – how to get a dream job with a big fat celery.

Guy Armstrong can so teleport – he’s just not in the mood right now.

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Comments (2)

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  1. Stella says:

    Dude, your collumns totally fuckin rock!

  2. Guy Armklingon says:

    Thank you very much my dead. I mean my dear.

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