Resumes Revisited

At my office, an intern applicant cited "Stella Artois" as one of his outside interests on his resume. In fact his resume was written on a napkin. Needless to say, he's hired, and I now report to him.

It never occurred to me that an "Interests" section on the resume was a good idea. To me it always seemed unnecessary, irrelevant, and unprofessional. I usually try to stick to work-related skills on my resume like "5 years of bear-grappling" and "2002 World's Deepest Throat," but after some convincing from co-workers, I've decided that an "Interests" section can help make a candidate stand out (assuming they can't boast unique skills like "Kung-Fu grip model for GI Joe action figures").

So, as I am retooling my resume for this rising recession, I will be adding some of my most interesting interests. Let me know if you think these will help me stand out in the eyes of an employer (read: new pimp).

Interests:
-Scavenger hunts
-people that remind me of fruits
-palindromes
- racecar
-that moment right before you remembered a person's name hours after the conversation in which said person came up
-the color perrywinkle
-breakfast burritos, ice cream sandwiches, and dessert pizza
-public hair
-...yes, I do mean public
-The Dread Pirate Roberts
-the discovery of new moles on my body
-unusual idioms, e.g the devil's in the details (yikes! Satan!), by the skin of my teeth (your teeth have skin? those aren't teeth), chewing the fat (barf!)
-Time Travel
-people who hold open beverage containers with the same hand their wristwatch is on
-think about that one for a second...
-all things homo: homographs, homonyms, homophones
-Uranus
-the burping sound of tupperware
-"Friends Forever"
-Suppressing laughter after witnessing someone slip and fall
-Christmas lights in September

What are your resume "interests?"

Lily and Jim

Condiments indeed! Not to be confused with condom mints. Those are something else entirely. Ask you mom about 'em.

Botanical Ova Question of the Day

Am I the only one surprised that an eggplant isn't a shrub with hard-boiled chicken eggs growing from its branches? And I was so hoping to pair it with the breakfastsausageplant, a little cheeseplant, and sandwich it with some Englishmuffinplant. How very disappointing.

Instead of chowing down, I guess I'll keep myself preoccupied by wondering which came first: the chickenplant or the eggplant.

The Doctor Dilemma

In my online quest for a primary-care doctor (via zocdoc.com), an emergent fear suddenly jumped my brain and wouldn't let go. This doc directory provides profile pictures of every latex-gloved candidate, and eerily enough, I found myself face to face with the next potential person to hold my ball sack. It's a much more daunting process than I ever imagined.

I've never chosen my physician before. Ever since I can remember, I saw the same middle-aged Greek doctor (let's call him Odysseus) with cavernous nostrils and Sam Eagle eyebrows every year for my regular physical. But his office, adorned with pastel teddy bears and acrobatic clowns, hardly seems appropriate for me anymore. Plus it's in a faraway land called Joisey. The journey there is fraught with demon-spawns and uncomfortable encounters with parental units, so I dare not venture there for a checkup.

This leaves me in a bind since I'm accustomed to only Odysseus exploring the nether regions of my body. My mother suggested I see her physician friend, but I'd rather not have Auntie Joanie poking a flashlight into my interior designs. The only other option? Find someone on the internet of course. And in net-like fashion, zocdoc compiles lists of potential doctors complete with star ratings, user reviews, quotes, google map links, and the ever important, all-telling profile picture. I wonder if these doctors fret over their profiles the way I do with my facebook. "Can you tell I work out from this pic? Does it say 'cool but not too cool to be silly' or does it say 'self-absorbed and trying too hard?' Sigh...Maybe I should just post a pic of Obama to show how politically aware I am and how I'm not a racist?"

The availability of their pictures presents a new a dilemma. I inevitably weigh their history of education and patient satisfaction against the stereotypical conjectures that come up with this immediate visual information. It's almost like I'm people-watching in Union Square. Dr. Mellon-head looks like a football player. I bet his giant hands would make my penis really feel like a twig and berries. Dr. Doogie Howser would be like having your freshman year roommate check you for scoliosis. Dr. Smoking is too hot to be a doctor, and I'd be afraid that her mere touch would make me embarrassingly aroused...I wonder if she's single. And then there's Dr. Pedophile...

The site also equips me with additional racial information that wouldn't otherwise be gleaned from a surname. I see one black doctor out of a set of ten white guys, and I almost feel obligated to support him. But then there's also the Southeast Asian looking doctor and you know I got to support my sister. Then again, she kind of reminds me of this girl in college who was so petite that at house parties, she would drunkenly climb into the drying machine to prove her hobbitness. I don't think I could possibly see this doctor with a straight face.

It all boils down to what a person values in a doctor. Does one prefer cold objectivity and even colder hands? Or does one prefer a gentle bedside manner that can still smile while breaking the news that you have herpes? Is an older woman a better choice because she's reminiscent of a matriarch? Or is the younger man preferable because he can relate? In the end, the final choice a patient makes is mostly indicative of the patient themself.

So what does it say about me when I ultimately choose the doctor that most closely resembles Super Mario? But who better to check the plumbing than thee plumber himself?

Dear State of Hawaii,

The election of your current governor proves that your residents will not vote on the basis of looks and that your pleasant islands are indeed a safe haven for the uglies.

I regretfully admit that were she a male governor, my scrutiny would probably be less severe. But let that only be a testament to the redeeming power of the aloha spirit. In all other corners of our superficial, sexist, and misogynistic nation, she would be a veritable outcast and stoned upon sight. Yet, Hawaii is the one place where even a Jim Henson reject can rise to a position of leadership. Telly would be so proud.

Her uncomfortable smile, looming at the airport, greets visitors to the islands, a symbol of amnesty for those afflicted with Paper-Bag Face. Foreign produce is not acceptable in Hawaii, but apparently everything else is fair game. I think a marketing campaign targeted to bridge trolls, Orcs, and Janet Reno, alerting them of this acceptance, would do wonders for your tourism industry.

It's truly a beautiful state, not necessarily because of your scenic locales and clearly not because of your population, but rather because of your openness to all, regardless of looks. And thank goodness your state is a bunch of remote islands in the middle of the Pacific, far away from everyone else.

Sincerely grateful,
Boogie Brown

And the winner is...

(sung to the tune of Smelly Cat by Phoebe Buffay)

Moneycaaat
Mooooneycat
what are they feeeding you?
luckycaaat
luckyycat
it's not your faaault




sexy. sassy. sad. gold.

What can I say folks? We're in a recession. I need a lover that brings me luck and money, not one that I have to spend money on.

Stay tuned for the next round of 'Who Should I Date?' where we match up your ex-girlfriend against your current girlfriend.

Alphabet Soup Monster!! Ahh!! Letters!!!!

Does the internet scare you? (Aside from when you click on this.) It's easy to get lost in the chasm of acronyminous language that plagues the 'net' when you are unfamiliar with the digital lexicon at play. It has it's own grammar, vocabulary, syntax--all of which takes centuries to master. Fortunately for you, we here at The Get Down are older than dirt and smarter than Socrates' lovechild with Aristotle, and more importantly, we feel your pain. It's that blend of sympathy and patriarchal charity (read: superiority) that has encouraged us to develop this helpful webtionary for your benefit, so you can one day master the language, navigate the net, and remember that we're way smarter than you. So we give you the Indespensable Internet Acronym Guide For Daily Communication and Validation. Let's get started shall we!

jk - jerk

IMO - emo...don't leave me alone near a razor

IMHO - I'm a ho...don't leave me alone near your spouse

BTW - knockoff beamer, for the wannabe guido

NSFW - contemporary of ACDC and INXS

OMFG - Original Mothafuckin Gangsta

OMG - Original Mother of Gangsta, who later got f*cked by rival gangsta

A/S/L - Amputated/Severed/Lacerated

TTYL - that's how we spell 'Title' on the street...uh, Eye meen str33t.

TTFN - that's how we say 'Bye' on the street...Ta Ta For Now! Toodles! ;)

STFU - dyslexic Stuff

TLDR - Tight Lipped Doctor...the kind Tony Soprano would use

PWN - if a nerd says this to you, consider yourself their subordinate

BRB - Bolshevik Rhythm & Blues. e.g. "When you hit that ceiling, oh, we need concensual healing...get up, get up, get up, get up, let's revolt tonight. Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, let's put up a fight."

GTG MTG - girl to girl...and one cup

LMAO - ladies Love MAO Zedong

lol - egg sandwich sideways

ROFL - the sound you inevitably make after licking a cat clean for an hour (a la Angela from The Office)

New Editions! (These are brand spanking new acronyms that haven't reached the mainstream yet, but we're giving you the inside scoop on the new lingo so you can be online cool. You're welcome.)

OPB - office-poo break

UNICORN - a single kernel from the cob

SWAYSRPCIDGAS - Stop whining about your stupid relationship problems cuz I don't give a shit

IWBGH2CAB - Is Wayne Brady gonna have to choke a bitch??

Hi, how are you? - I'm cyberstalking you. Nice vacation pics ;)

Who should I date? Part Fwhore!

(the whore of course being me, not any of the contestants...except for maybe the Green M&M. Word on the street is that that green shell ain't hard to crack.)

After months of hiatus, during which time competitors in this contest for commingling are thoroughly tested for contagious diseases such as Emptyheadedness, Self-Absorption, and Gonorrhea (curiously called 'The Clap'...when you catch it, does a mischievous gnome come out and applaud?), the first round of match-ups will now continue with our fwhoreth competition between two of the most talked about contestants. As always, it's up to YOU to decide the outcome...Who should I date? and bestow all my tender goodness to. (oooh, ending a sentence with a preposition! I'm such a rebel!)

Who should I date?

Catwoman
Why I like her: First, let's be clear here. I'm not talking about the real Catwoman. I'm delusional but not completely unrealistic. Selina Kyle is clearly out of my league, her whip truly frightens me, and let's face it, Bats got it on lock. And usually a goalie would never stop me, but Christian Bale in the cape and cowl dropping F-bombs in my face is a real deterrent. I don't want him to call me unprofessional.

And I'm also not talking about the strange 60-year-old woman with more cats than relatives that lives next door. She's the cat-lady. And smells like gouda.

I'm talking about the Catwoman imposter to the right. I actually met her at the circle jerk known as Comic Con. Let's add this up: attractive female + loves comics + @ comic con + in a leather catsuit + not afraid to be nerdterviewed by Boogie Brown and Demken = viable partner in love. If there is a better woman out there, please stand up...and try on the catsuit.

I can see it now, her dressed as Catwoman, me dressed as Darkwing Duck, in the cramped aisles at Forbidden Planet, and we both reach for the last copy of Astonishing X-Men #25. She claws my face, I spit in her eye, we tussle on the floor for a while until we lock eyes and realize...that this is what it sounds like when doves cry. I wonder if she has a light saber...

OR

The waving golden cat at every Chinese food spot you ever been to
Why I like her: For some reason, I gaze into this kitty's eyes and I feel lucky. If that's not a reason to be with someone, then I don't know what is. And she's always there for me, I know just where to find her--any countertop opposite dead ducks hanging in the window. She really welcomes everyone too. No matter your race, gender, or class, she will wave to you hello and wave to you good-bye because that's what a beautiful, open feline she is. I think I need that in my life. She's also great to go to rap concerts with; she just can't help but "fan the flames."

And last but not least, I can see myself reflected in her. She really allows me to see myself. I never knew I was so golden!

The best thing I saw at NY Comic Con...

...was not this:


It was this outrageous, eggtastic show:


Thu Tran, i love you.

I was trying to live-blog from the epicenter of nerdtivity all weekend, but I was again thwarted by an overloaded and overwhelmed cellular data network. Apparently all the nerdistas were clogging the network by twittering about how many times they jizzed their pants running into a Princess Leia or really, any female for that matter.

I did however get a lot of great nerdterviews on video which will hopefully be posted in due time (but not overdue time or premature time). Until then true believers, let's have a Food Party!

Rectal Root Word Pronunciation Question of the Day

Why isn't "canal" pronounced "cay-nuhl," you know, like "anal" with a "c"?

Why isn't "analysis" pronounced "Anal E. Sis"?

And of course there's "analog." "You wanna do what?? Anal?! Ohhh geee!" (<---insert Minnesotan/Fargo accent here)

Twitter me this, twitter me that

I have just been informed that I may have to begin twittering for work. And no, twitter is not some euphemism for an illicit sexual deed, as in "I caressed her blog, and she twittered like never before." Twitters are those automatic updating feeds on the everyday ongoings of people's lives, often serving as a reminder that even the most celebrated and revered are hopelessy mundane at the daily level.

I can only imagine the type of riveting mass updates I would be paid to deliver every hour from my office desk:

"Hmm, it is 9:30. What will I have for lunch today? Menu pages!"

"This paper clip ladder is going into the Guinness Book of World Records! I could climb down the Empire State Building on this thing!"

"20-minute power nap on the toilet...so refreshed! Hope Wanda who sits by the bathroom doesn't give me the judging I-know-you-just-office-pooed eyes."

"Head down + furrowed brow + highlighter in hand = looking busy. Little do they know that I'm just drawing neon green puppies in the margins of my office-mate's planner. You just got Atomic Dogged!"

"hehe, this game is great: http://www.break.com/games/icebreaker.html. It makes me feel like Jason Strathorn in Crank."

"That's not what I expected Human Tetris to look like. I was anticipating a video of people falling on top of one another in neat little stacks."

"Time for a real office poo...and maybe another toilet nap."

"Just got caught dancing in the elevator, again. I tried playing it off as if I were stretching, but really, who stretches doing the Kid n Play?"

"New ad campaign for candy cigarettes: Need a smoke break but hate smoke?"

"If I keep printing out 20 page documents, it appears as though I am doing important work. Clearly I am willing to sacrifice the environment to maintain the ruse of productivity. So be it."

"Googling my name produces innapropriate and unflattering results? How do I resolve this?"

"Ugh, my leg just fell asleep. Lucky leg!"

"Sitting in this chair for 8 hours straight probably has the same effect on my ass that snorting coke has on my brain :)"

"What if I snuck viagra into my co-worker's vitamins? Do you think he'd get a raise?"

"Time to leave! Peace out! Lights out!"