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Last updated: February 05. 2014 12:24AM - 3034 Views
By - @civitasmedia.com



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Legend has it that one time Bill Murray approached someone at a Wendy’s, took a fry from their tray, ate it, looked them in the eyes, and said, “Nobody is going to believe you.” It is my goal to be important enough to do something like that one day.


So far, the closest I have come to similar awesomeness is managing a dive bar where college kids paid me five bucks to throw a pitcher of water in their face while screaming “TIDAL WAAAAAVE!” at them. With great disappointment, I lost that entitlement the day I had a difference of opinion with my boss. I thought I was supposed to be getting paid for running his business. It seemed to be his opinion that I was a volunteer from the Peace Corps sent to him by the Greek god of tax evasion.


Needless to say, I found myself unemployed and living with my parents. Again. The age-old tragedy of being 20-something in 2014.


While scrolling through pictures of other people with too much time on their hands that submitted photos for theCHIVES’ Selfie Olympics, I remembered a good college buddy of mine that I had a radio show with worked for what is rightfully known as “probably” the best website in the world. Intrigued to check the job listings for myself, I found an opening that caught my attention.


Junior Editor.


The job description required someone who thinks outside the box, just might happen to live outside of it, and has a keen sense of what’s funny, sexy, interesting, and ORIGINAL.


The compensation and benefits listed health and dental insurance plans and a FULLY STOCKED BEER FRIDGE, KEG, AND BOURBON BAR.


I had an immediate erection.


When I read the request for a link to a one-minute video telling theCHIVE why I was perfect for the job, I knew this was mine to lose, as a former professional lip-sync videographer at a Connecticut couple’s resort that occasionally opened the doors to inner-city kids.


“Mom, you have to be in my video to apply for this job,” I insisted.


“Not now, Justin,” my mom whined. “I’m watching Bernie Mac on Netflix.”


“It might help me move out,” I replied.


“What are my lines?” she asked.


Moments later, I was under the covers in my bed, with my mother pounding on my door as my 12-year-old sister filmed us.


The video started out with my mom telling me I need to move out of her house so she had a room to watch her Jane Fonda workout videos in. It continued with me assuring her I might leave if theCHIVE hired me, followed by me listing my qualifications for the position, and ending with my mom telling me they’d probably hire a sexy bitch with a nice rack instead. I then proved how sexy I was by emerging from underneath my blankets dressed in the Miley Cyrus VMA costume, which cut to me vacuuming in a cemetery in the same outfit and dancing to “Better with the Lights Off,” also filmed by my 12-year-old sister.


Three weeks went by, and no word from theCHIVE.


Naturally perplexed, I watched the video again wondering why they wouldn’t have called me.


That’s when I noticed my balls were hanging out of my fuzzy teddy leotard. I SENT A VIDEO OF MY BALLS to a potential employer!


Sorry, Mom and Dad, looks like I won’t be moving out anytime soon. At least I went balls deep chasing my goals.

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