2010-07-29

Idiocracy.


I would like to do a frillier post but due to sleep deprivation I've succeeded in doing nothing worth sharing today, aside from filling out an online application for a part time photo technician position at my local pharmacy. I saw the signs outside advertising the job..."ASK INSIDE!"
So I went out of my way, made a pit-stop, asked about it inside and was told all applications are conducted online. Thanks, for that.

So I went home and filled out this application as directed. Now I have spent 40 minutes of my precious free time playing along with their multiple-choice mind game douchery instead of participating in a sweet nap.

I won't go into too much detail regarding the questions that these dumb-ass applications throw at you. I'm assuming a great many of you have gone through this horrid process on your own...the same question asked in five different ways, so that they can finally trick you into admitting you are a lying thief that hates the public and will most likely lift money from your till.

I'm wondering why they need to know about the following things:

"You like to keep your friends close, but not too close"...
"You think big crowds are fun"
"You are not at all interested in other peoples problems"
"You think people can not be trusted"
"You have done things in the past that you regret"

So on and so forth...
To which I say, WHAT THE FUCK.

Since I responded with "Agree" (not to be mistaken with "Strongly Agree") to the inquiry
about big crowds, the system will probably take this as an indication that I am a party girl and will frequently be late for my shifts, as I am constantly bar crawling in the style of Mardi Gras 24/7. Or some shit like that.

I have no words. I'm too tired to bother with this anymore.
However, I have come up with a new theory as to why the economy is tanking...
it's because these bullshit e-applications are deeming 98% of the public unfit to work.
IDIOCRACY.
If I do not get this job, it will be entirely on par with being deemed an unfit mother by a fast food vending machine.

(Insert flourish of middle fingers, waving back and forth with vigor.)

And above is a picture of Edward, in Hilary's hospital room. In his surgical mask. This is the only part of this post that makes sense to me.

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