Tag Archives: money

Job Search 2009, Pt. II

30 May

OK, so where were we? Oh yea, those punk kids had just stolen my resumé. Punks.

I stood in the court house lawn, stunned. My moneys were nowhere to be found. My yacht was somewhere out there on the great sea, being steered by another man (Editor’s note: OR woman. Kyle prefers not to endorse gender role stereotypes, such as the idea as man as the ultimate sailor/driver.), just a normal man like me, but DEFINITELY not a woman. Women can’t drive things (Editor’s note: God damn it, Kyle.).

I’m truly broken. I’m like that song that the guy from Seether and the girl from Evanescence did for that one movie.

I wander about the square for hours.

I have removed my sports coat, rolled it up and used it as a pillow.

I sleep for 8 hours. When I wake up and see the time and realize that I can’t even control my own sleep cycle, I just feel worse. What am I going to do? I missed Tuesday. I love Tuesdays. At around 8:30 PM, Talia comes to pick me up. Somebody saw me while he was getting ice cream with his girlfriend and thought it’d “cramp his style” to pick up his drunk, half-naked, urine-stained friend while he was on a date so he called someone else. Whatever. I don’t care.

I do care.

I do.

On the way home, there is a palpable discomfort. I assume it’s from the inescapable “pee pee smell” coming from my pants-region.

“Kyle, you smell like pee.” She says. There’s a brief pause as she searches for her next words. “Please tell me that’s your pee.”

Sigh. “I’d like to think so, but there were so many children around me…there’s no real way to tell.”

She looks at me with a look of simultaneous sympathy and disgust. To make her more comfortable, I try to give her a candy bar I got from a vagrant. She seems to soften. She loves candy.

“I love candy.” She says.

Told you.

The rest of the ride is pleasant if not cripplingly uncomfortable.

“I ate some leaves today.” I tell her

“…”

“Today, I chased this squirrel for an hour trying to find all his hiding spots. Turns out he didn’t have any. Dumb squirrel. All his stuff is out in the open. That’s just not safe, you know?”

“Yes.” She sighs. “That does sound unsafe.”

“I know. So I buried my credit cards.”

“You did what?!”

Talia drops me off and I walk inside. Derek is waiting for me.

<cue music>

“Hey, Derek.” I say, meekly.

“I’m late for work.” He says and brushes past me.

“Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been out blogging all the time, chasing my fame, I just–”

“Not now, Kyle.”

“No, listen. I’m the one who was supposed to take care of everything. I’m the one who was supposed to make everything…OK for everybody.” I pause. “It just didn’t work out like that. And I left. I left you. You never did anything wrong, you know. I have to try to…forget about you. Heh, I used to try to pretend that…you didn’t exist, but I can’t. You’re my Derek… you’re my Der… you’re my little Derek. And now,” I take a deep breath, “I’m an old broken down piece of meat, and I’m alone…and I deserve to be all alone… I just don’t want you to hate me.” I breath out. “OK?”

“Yea, OK, but I really need to go to work.” He seemed elated. “I’M MAKING THE GUAC TODAY!” Here I notice a small line of saliva coming from Derek’s mouth to his chin, then onto his shirt.

“Good Christ,” I say. Then I leave for another 6 months.

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What I’m Going to Do Now That I’m Famous

14 May

Welcome back.

In the last two days, my blog has had roughly 250 hits. Yea. Money. Speaking of money, I should be seeing a lot more of it very soon now that I’m internet famous.

This fame (money) is going to change my life forever. I’ll never be the same. Soon, I’ll be blogging to you from the top of my pile of gold coins, typing on a platinum laptop with ivory keys. I want you all to come along for the ride with me (not in the limo, though. organize carpools). So, I’ve just kind of ran down some of the things that will change now that I’m famous (rich).

I think the first thing I’m going to do is just “drop” pants. Pants aren’t my scene. I like the idea of walking around, feeling the sun radiate off my Casper-white thighs and into the unsuspecting retinas of the less wealthy. You ever seen me without my pants on? If you’re able to read this, probably not.

The second thing I think I’ll do is buy a lot of the stuff that I’ve always wanted. I’m going to go to the nearest Sharper Image   Circuit City K-Mart Best Buy and get a really big refrigerator. Then I’m going to buy tons of delicious food to put in it– food from all over the world: lobster,  caviar from the Mediterranean, wild Spanish chicken, Cheerios from Britain (Which, over there, are actually called Hellos.).

Third, I will buy a gun.

Fourth, I will start only hanging out with people as famous as me. So, consider this a formal goodbye to all my friends who aren’t Barack Obama or the Pope. Hello to all my new friends, Barack Obama and the Pope! Oh yea, and I’ll definitely make time for the Hoff every now and then–but only while I’m in German–which will be like, all the time after I commission a team of top scientists to develop a jet pack for me.

Pictured: Me.

Pictured: Me

Fifth, I will buy the Crocs™ Shoe company and then promptly close it.

Sixth, in a form of musical experimentation, I will use my seemingly unending wealth to reinvigorate the careers of MC Hammer, Poison, and Billy Ray Cyrus. I will then see who succeeds in today’s musical climate. The winner gets to keep being famous. The losers have to live in my dungeon.

Seventh, build a dungeon.

Eighth, buy a real big coat.

Ninth, I’ll pay the writers from LOST to come to my house and explain to me HOW  THERE ARE THREE JOHN LOCKES ON THE ISLAND. After their explanation, which I’m willing to guarantee will still leave me confused and irritable, I’ll have them put in my dungeon.

Damn you.

Damn you.

Tenth. I will go on a magical boat ride with John Goodman, Eddie Vedder, Conan O’ Brien, and Shaquille O’Neal. I will blog about it. I will also Tweet about it. When I’m doing that, I will upload hundreds of photos to my facebook of me and Conan climbing Shaq and shaving Eddie Vedder’s eyebrows while he’s asleep. When Eddie wakes up, we’ll talk him into helping us make a raft that looks like it was built out of a portion of the hull and push a passed out John Goodman out to sea on it. We’ll then surround the raft with little pieces of flaming debris and sail away. He’s going to be SO PISSED. Lol. John.

The last thing I’m going to do is finally give the studios all the funding they need to create my biopic: Irion Man. It’s going to be a lot like Iron Man, but with fewer explosions and more shots of my junk.

Due out in 2011

Sauntering Uncomfortably into Theaters: Summer 2010

Get excited.

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