I WILL get this job

This morning, I was indulging in a favorite pastime of the unemployed. Can you guess what it was? Yes, I was sitting, unshowered, at my kitchen table. And yes, I may have been using the internet and drinking coffee. I was not using recreational drugs or drinking a beer or curled in the fetal position under every blanket I own, but those are all very good guesses.

More importantly, I was perusing Craigslist! For Jobs! Isn't that quaint and so very unemployed of me?

And I think all of my unemployment problems are solved because look what I found:

Sexy Woman Columnist Needed (Union Square)

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Date: 2009-08-25, 11:10AM EDT
Reply to: info@sexification.com ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

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Hello Hello

I just started a new site about 2 months ago. www.Sexification.com. It's doing very well. Around 200-250 readers a day, and growing. We have had a few good women columnist, but I'm looking to expand and maybe hire a stable women columnist that the readers can relate to and build a relationship with.

It goes on, mostly filling in two paragraphs of space with the word SEXIFICATION all in caps like that. I will remember this space-filling technique for my next 5-page essay assignment.

Guys, I don't know what SEXIFICATION is, but I think I can do it. I am stable, so, yay, first requirement fulfilled. I will oh-so-calmly and non-eratically perform SEXIFICATION on you, as a sexy women columnist. I don't know if that's a columnist for women or just little old me with multiple personalities (all sexxxxy), but I will soon find out, if I e-mail info@sexification.com. My first point of business will be to suggest that they change that e-mail to SEXinfo@sexificiation.com. See? -- Sexified.

The one person you do not want as your opponent in a deadly manhunt

I've thought about this a lot over the years. Some celebrities you really believe you could take on, were you forced to play The Deadliest Game: Larry King, Bob Dylan, most comedians, the Pope, etc. I think I even stand a fighting chance against a few professional athletes, like gymnasts (they're tiny!) and golfers. 

Venus Williams, though, is not a person with whom I would willingly engage in hand-to-hand combat to the death. And neither would you, for the following reasons:

1) She is enormous. The woman is 6'1". If I stood on my dad's shoulders, we might make it to that altitude, but then Venus might be entitled to have Serena on her shoulders to make it fair, and we would still certainly die.

2) She is stunningly fast. Her legs are approximately 6 feet long (see "enormous," above). Her hunting me down would be like a greyhound chasing a corgi. 

3) She has stamina. I might try to run from her, and she might even give me a head start, but I would get tired within a mile. Venus Williams could hunt you day and night without rest. She would run alongside your getaway train, if you managed to snag one, until it stopped the next town over, and then she would get you.

4) She makes terrifying noises. It's one thing to be running through the woods with a giant, muscle-bound, physically superior opponent on your tail. It's another when said opponent is making noises you've only ever heard on Jurassic Fight Club before. As Gerard put it, being on the other side of the net (or ahead of her in the final run of your life), must feel like being a fish and hearing the shriek of an Osprey overhead. It is the sound of something better than you come to put you out of your misery.

Cleaning Day

Today is cleaning day. It's always interesting to see just how much filth you've been living in.

We have soap scum; that's a given, and I was prepared for it. I was not prepared for soap scum IN COLORS. I watch TV. I've seen the horror movie-lite commercials starring soap scum as a ravenous world-destroyer and bane of moms everywhere, and I've seen said soap scum depicted in a variety of ways: claymation, animation, very scientific microscope close-ups, but I've never seen it depicted in orange. Most of ours is very orange, though we do have some lovely blacks, greens and clear-ishes as well.

Never fear, dear readers -- I've eradicated the orange plague for now. Everything on our floor is another story, however.

Through some fault of mop, mop liquid or mop-handler, all the dirt, hair and flotsam that was once on our floor is...still on our floor, now stuck there under a shiny, tacky layer of cleaner. It's like the world's worst decoupage project, preserving all the elements of our life that we'd much rather forget.