Oh, hey there! I’m a job ad.
My primary function is to advertise an open vacancy at a company who requires an employee to fill said vacancy, but you might be confused and damn well intrigued by some of the things I claim in the name of interestingness.
We both know how jobs work – you get out of bed too early, drag your stank ass into the shower, spend too much time with the soap around your gonads and then drive to a building where for eight point five hours you pretend that what you do makes a difference because the reality that you do nothing of importance will crush your spirit.
See, I know this because my covert job is to shroud my advertised vacancy in lots of buzzwords and bullshit so that you have no idea what the job’s about until you start it. By then you’ve already made a commitment so you’re stuck here until you leave your car running in the garage one night while you’re still inside.
This job is like every other: dynamic, friendly, supportive, team-playing environment of a well-established industry leader. Great opportunity for advancement, structured, exciting, diverse, fast-paced, A team etc.
We’re looking for a flexible, technical, forward-thinking star. An experienced, driven, friendly, innovative, autonomous, top team playing performer willing to work eight days a week for competitive wage and career progression…
What will you be doing? Fuck knows! Pretty much whatever job potion the witches in our HR department have conjured up out of their brew this afternoon: Assistant Director of Advancement, Retail Coordinator, Change Agent, Performance Operator, Business Process Manager, Scheduling, Surveying, Changing, Managing, Operating, Commercialising, Masturbating, Systematising, Analysing, Procuring, Directing. Yeah!
Fuck me. No wonder the economy’s in the shit, we can’t even designate a job anymore without wanking some type of self-aggrandising, man juice onto it. WHAT THE FUCK IS THE JOB? WHAT AM I DOING?
Sorry about that. Every job ad reaches melting point at some stage when we spin so much shit that we get lost in centrifugal dung. But we manage to pull it all together by pooping out a list of abilities that you MUST HAVE to even think about applying for this exceptional, once in a lifetime, leading edge, visionary blah, blah, whatever.
Fluent in at least three languages – one of which must be whatever Sylvester Stallone speaks
Masters degree in Women’s Studies
8 years experience in a similar roll (LOL! YOU HAVE NO IDEA IF THIS IS EVEN POSSIBLE!)
Thorough working knowledge of whatever these are: HTML/CSS/CMS/SEO/DIFOT/MYOB/ROTFL/STD/UN/NAACP
And this is the bit where we bring it to home base and tell you more awesome things about our company:
WE HAVE A POOL TABLE AND BEER FRIDGE! (If you drink more than two beers at any social occasion we will judge you forever.)
Funky offices! (Beanbags and a purple wall.)
Great company culture! (Awkward silence in a large room full of people. Single cough.)
To apply, address the letter personally to our HR manager who has not left her name anywhere in the job ad – we want to be sure you’ve spent another hour of your time researching us online before you never hear from us again.
And don’t expect to ever hear from us again, we only advertised this job to appease the lawyers. We’ve already promised it to the sales manager’s son.
About the Author:
‘Job seekers’ used to be called ‘unemployed’ but in the crazy, mixed up world of cultural Marxism, Johnny Q. is simply a hapless, down-on-his-luck, overqualified victim of an evil capitalist market who can’t catch a break.