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Hi, and welcome to my very first LiveJournal PhonePost. First of many, probably. Now you can hear what I sound like, cause that's what...making...communication...is all...about. Anyway, I just made twenty bucks, off psych experiments, one which didn't even actually work cause they couldn't calibrate the little camera things on my eyes, cause of my contacts, probably. But! I also made thirty bucks on Saturday, so, due to the power of psychology, I have now made fifty dollars, which I can now--which has gone to, uh, the DeepDiscountDVD sale, from which I purchased Arrested Development Season One, so I can see what all the fucking fuss is about, since everybody loves it, and I should love it too, because it's soooo good, or something, and you guys won't be my friends if I don't like. And some DVDs that I really should own, like Moulin Rouge, and The Princess Bride, and Clue. Um, I have Tseeps to thank for the last one, cause she reminded me that I love Clue. And I hope I pronounced her name right; I tried to do the little "pizza" thing because it's "Tseeps," it's fun...to say it, even though it's probably easier not to pronounce that damn T, and just go "'Seeps 'Seeps 'Seeps," but she'd probably kill me if I did that, so...I won't.
Next on the agenda would be me bitching about not finding a job. Cause see, I'm on Medzilla and I get the new job listings every day, and yada yada yada, I apply to them, whatever. And then, they're like, "Blah blah blah, we want this, and 2-3 years of experience, 5 years of experience, 8 years of experience, 20,000 years of experience." Can't get a job if I don't have experience, but I can't get experience if I don't get a fucking job. Do you see the problem here?
In addition, like, Medzilla tells you when people look at your frickin' résumé, so, like, I got, like, six people looking at it fucking today on--it's Monday, I think Monday is, like, they always start new postings and start looking at stuff on Monday. So I have six damn people looking at it today, and I've got like eleven people, I think, who have also looked at it before now. But no one's fucking contacted me. What the fuck are you looking at my fucking résumé for, if you're not going to even fucking talk to me about it? You just look at it? I mean, what do they actually get? Do they just see, "Oh, he [wants to be a medical writer," and then they look at the résumé and go,] "Oh, he's a fucking moron, he's not good for us, he probably can't do shit." And that's why they never contact me ever again. Like, recruiters from everywhere, people who don't even have postings, I don't even recognize the goddamn names because I've never seen them before. But...what the fuck is up with everyone? Cause I'm applying to like dozens and dozens of places, I don't even remember where the hell I've applied anymore, all over the fucking country, different pharm companies and CROs and all this other shit, and no one has fucking asked me for a fucking interview. I mean, what the hell? Why don't you just fucking talk to me, motherfuckers?
Hi! If you are...considering me for a job, and you happen to have stumbled upon my LiveJournal and are listening to this PhonePost, I was not in fact talking about you specifically. In fact, I think you look really good today, and that's a really nice tie, and it really ma--it really brings out the color of your eyes, so please hire me. And...I will be a great addition to your team, because...I never curse, ever. I'm a very...good boy. And I know about pharmacology, and I know how to write, and I know when to use a fucking comma. And that...is why I should have a job. Also because I need money to buy things. Like DVDs...and movie tickets...and airplane tickets to visit people I've never met before.
For all you other people, this is what it sounds like when I leave something on your voicemail. I just ramble on and on, until I run out of ideas. There are often little blank silences while I come up with something new to go off of, and...there are frequently run-on sentences, because who doesn't love a good run-on sentence? I talk in garbles, cause I talk too fucking fast. My brain is just too fast for my tongue to handle. Not that my--Not that my tongue is not fast, all you ladies! It's a pretty fast tongue, if you know what I mean. Uh...no, it's not.
Probably coming up on the limit for the, uh...PhonePost...length.