BACKGROUND INFO: So I was very upset that my writing jobs paid so little. I recently entered the grown-up job market armed with a journalism degree and I'm finding out that the starting pay for journalists and copy-editors is abysmally low.
And they require a four-year degree.
Well in NJ, you can get a serving job and make twice the starting salary of a reporter (23,000). In any case, I'm learning that the most lucrative jobs don't even require thinking. I get modeling offers frequently (I'm not that good-looking) and they're waaaaaaaaaaaay more profitable. I want a job where I can use my brain and not my looks. However, when my BARE expenses total 24,950 (excluding food and gas) a brain-job that pays 25,000 isn't looking too appealing. Hence my frustration at all my job offers. The email text follows.
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| Date: | Wed, 1 Aug 2007 23:35:16 -0700 (PDT) |
| From: |  Add to Address Book  Add Mobile Alert |
| Subject: | Hey there cowboy, like, I totally dig your boots.... |
| To: |
Ok so I've decided that I can solve all of my problems by....
getting breast augmentation.
I just watched a Youtube video of the procedure (I was curious!) and I think I can do it....
I'd have to model for those shitty male magazines I get mad at you for reading, but I'm sure it pays more than an actual job where I have to use my brain (I might be manic right now).
This is America after all-- things make sense here. It's only plausable that a boob job would help me make more money, right?
Anyway. Models all have coke problems, so I'm looking forward to that...
I'm going to need your full and complete support, here, as I peddle my body for smut magazines (they do after all, pull in more dough than news publications, once again, this is America, and since the boys are in charge here.. sexy magazines are waaaaaaaaaay more lucrative and important than any news publication).
So I've abandonned any hope of using my brain to make money, and resorted to "doing what I gotta do" to pay my taxes.. I mean bills...
I can keep my beer-promoting job until I get wrinkly from tanning and turn into a milfy-slut who ends up on desperate housewives after my youth fades and I'm left with NOTHING... (which is what I have now.) But I'll be on TV, so it's cool, I just have to learn to say "like" too much (I'm, like, really practicing).
Well since I've already decided to abandon any pursuit of a job that requires a brain, I've also decided to develop a drinking problem, to deal with the nagging empty unfulfilled feeling that I'd expect to consume me.
Don't worry, it' will be in a socialite, debutante way, where I slosh about, tipsy and giggly from wine.. I'll fit in at the country club where I'll complain about the tuna to mayo ratio to any poor waitress who'll listen.
This is why girls get boob implants after college, because "girls gone wild" make more cash than a "writer gone goo goo".
God I hate it here in the US. Lets run away to Australia mate (I've already got the lingo down.)
Well I'm going to do some abby-things, so I'll have the bangin' stomach to match my new gel-chest..
Adios!