My boss just called to tell me that two of the pitches I’ve prepared over the past two weeks have been accepted. That means we’ve been hired as counsel. This is a very, very good thing.

Thus continues my inexplicable run at being really good at what I do. Seriously, I have no idea how to explain it, because most of the time I really don’t even know what I’m doing. Once a day, something like this happens:

Boss: “Do you see how we ranked on the latest league tables for mid-term notes?”
Me: [eating a big-ass sandwich, having no idea what a "mid-term note" is, being forced to guess] “Yes – we came out on top.”
Boss: “Excellent. Keep up the good work.”

Then I’ll spend the next three hours learning what a mid-term note is, pooping, checking the internet/tables to see if actually came out on top (which we usually do), checking fantasy sports, making really long personal phone calls, and pooping some more.

What I do is marketing/pr/financial research for a law firm. I got hired after I was a legal assistant at the firm for two years, despite having no background at all in business, marketing, or public relations. My course load in college consisted of: history, some writing, sign language, and whatever was in the afternoon or whatever that girl with the giant boobs from the cafe who I always met in the bagel line was taking.

And I don’t really apply myself because I learned at a young age that trying is for losers. You can save that “There’s nothing more satisfying than working hard to reach a goal and achieving it” drivel. You know what’s more satisfying? Doing just enough to get by and being honored/promoted/handsomely compensated for it. Now that’s a great feeling.

I don’t mean to toot my own horn here, but really, if I’m going to brag, there are dangerously few things that I can brag about, and this is probably number one. But this streak has got to come to an end soon, and when it does, no one is going to walk away a winner. I don’t think the powers-that-be will like it when they realize that their man in charge of venture capital research doesn’t even know what “venture capital” means.

So if your company is hiring let me know. My skills include:

- good people skills
- showing up late
- seldom wearing a shirt and when shirted, said shirt only covers half of stomach
- excellent at sexual harassment
- punching people/co-workers when they’re not looking
- stealing large office supplies for home (i.e. lamps, chairs, desks, etc)
- ability to cry on queue
- one time I beat up a dog

You can just send me an email with salary info at the address in the box on the right. Thanks.

Hi,

Though we have spoken many times, often several times a week, I don’t think we’ve ever properly met. My name is Jason Mulgrew. I am an internet quasi-celebrity, and I would like to spend the rest of my life with you.

As of now, you know me only as the sweaty guy who regularly orders two burrito supremes with no tomatoes and two soft tacos. And I know you only as the attractive woman of unidentified ethnic origin (Latin? Indian? Both?) who delicately makes and serves said burritos to me. But if given the chance, I know that we can get to know each other on a much deeper and nakeder level.

I know our relationship, though now only in its incipient stages, can grow to be something that we both (or at least I) can enjoy for many years to come. And I know that deep down, below your mascara that curves at the end making you look like a cat (but a sex-pot cat), and that little Taco Bell visor that I would surely ask you to wear during intercourse, you see some potential in me. Perhaps you realize that I am a man capable of endless love and devotion if I were only to find the right woman. Perhaps you sense that I am willing to never speak to my family or friends again if you asked me to. Or perhaps you saw one of the many occasions I took out a few $100 bills and showed them to you, mouthing the words, “This can be all yours – and more”, in a sexy manner while rubbing the bills all over my chest and crotch.

I feel that we can learn about each other, and take interest in each other’s hobbies. For example, the other day while waiting for my meal, I noticed you talking to a woman friend of yours who pulled out something out of her purse that looked like a mini blow-torch. I couldn’t really pay attention to what you two were talking about because I was very hungry and the smell of that horse-meat slowly cooking in those bins brings me nearer to orgiastic delight than any woman ever could, but I’m guessing you’re into metal work, possibly sculpture. Or possibly you use mini blow-torches to burn down homes, buildings, and churches. And you know what? I think that’s great. I want you to show me your world, and if your world includes arson, well then I’ll bring the kerosene.

I know you may be reticent because only a week ago I professed my love to another woman. I want you to know that she and I are over. She was a very unladylike and insensitive woman. What kind of “lady” attacks a man trying to give her flowers with pepper spray, especially after that man had been waiting outside her apartment for three days (without food or water might I add) just to get the chance to talk to her? The answer: a harpy and a whore. I want you to know that I would never forsake you – not for anyone. Well, except Lindsay Lohan. And Josie Maran and Elisha Cuthbert. And that stripper at Show & Tell in Philly who let me touch her boobs in the parking lot for $50 when I was coming down from my last coke binge.

I’m sorry – I’m getting a little side-tracked here, but the important thing is that I need you. And I need you to need me. Because, if you don’t, well, you’d probably better get a permit to carry. But let’s not let it get to that.

All I ask is that you think about it. And get back to me by this Friday via email by 5pm.

Love, always and forever,
This is what it sounds like when doves cry,
I am,
Eternally indebted to your will,
Jason