Hope You Get Picked

by Cathy & Patti

We were talking the other day about life, reflecting on our own and those of the people we know, and we came to a rather depressing conclusion: In order for you to get anything done in life, you must whore yourself out. Yes, we said it. Men and women, rich and poor, young and old - we are all whores.

Think about it: Life is a little bit like a whore line-up at a brothel. You pull yourself together, put yourself out there, and hope you get picked. This can be applied to almost every aspect of one's life:

Want your kid to go to the best school? Find an "in" and kiss their ass or throw money their way. (They are whores too.) Hope you get picked.

Want to get into the best college? Start kissing ass in those "best schools" - beginning in preschool. Apply to colleges. Hope you get picked.

Looking to get married? Gussy yourself up, lift the boobs and ass, slather yourself in makeup and douse yourself in perfume/cologne, slick that combover just so to cover up that bald spot, and head out. Hope you get picked.

Into parties and social media? Hang with the "right" circles. Sign up with Facebook and Twitter, find your friends, make new ones. Hope you get invited. Hope you get picked.

Looking for a job? Gather every shred of your self-confidence, jot down all that experience in the most complicated, technologically advanced way, submit it to 234,675 job postings. Hope you get picked.

We have watched a very frustrated and discouraged friend of ours job hunt for over a year now. During this time, despite a million carefully crafted cover letters, she has barely even been able to land an interview, much less a job. Now that we have had our "life revelation" and  know what it takes to not only play the game but also win it, we re-wrote her cover letter:

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Dear Hiring Director:

I'm going to be straight with you.

This letter serves as a clear cut attempt to whore myself out to you. I won't waste your time with my qualifications; what does it matter? I have none. At least not in the way you think I should; those listed under “Job Requirements”.  I mean; I can DO what you need me to do, and I can do it quite well, oh, hell-to-the-yes, I can.  I just don’t have the piece of paper stamped “Degree” to prove it.

All I can tell you is this: I am a Hustler and Bustler and a Whore of the Highest Degree. I earned my Ph.D. from the School of Life, yo. Better than that, you won't find. Offended by my use of the world “whore”? Please don’t be. I don’t mean it like that. We all know that to get ahead these days, we must all tap into our Inner Whore. And when I say “tap”, don’t get all excited. Again, I don’t mean it like that. I mean: access, find, unearth.

So don't bother will all those other "official" cover letters and fancy resumes littered with degrees and experience and superfluous stuff like that. Instead, let’s speed things up and just pick me: The One Who Admits She is Totally Pimping Herself Out to You.  This way? We get off on the right foot together. We start out honest. We both know exactly where we stand.

And best of all? I'll get the job done, mofo. Give me a chance and you'll see.

Best Regards,

Hopin’, Prayin’, Pimpin’
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Think she'll get picked?