But before I get into that, let me tell you about raincoaster.
Not this one.
Username: raincoaster19 Jan 2008
Gender: Man Income: Please ask me Age: 55 Located in: Abbotsford, NA, Canada Title:
New register member of nudistfriends.com. – http://www.NudistFriends.com/
Just for the record and so there is no confusion, that is not me. Nor is the one in the Tiffany Pollard sex tape.
No, for realz.
Now, where was I? Ah, yes, pontificating about having found my dream job. Longtime raincoaster fans (at least, fans of THIS raincoaster, not those ones) will know that the liquor cabinet (okay, safe) at global HQ is not quite as full as it could be, owning to a tragic lack of prosperitousness; indeed, it could well be said that, most remarkable among my many in-and-of-themselves-remarkable talents is the ability to avoid so much as the very appearance of capitalizing on any of the other skills and abilities, let alone the actuality of theredoing.
Even my marvelous tits.
Consequently, I have pursued many strange and increasingly bizarre job opportunities. There was the time the Russian Mafia wanted to hire me to write high school essays to be sold online; it took quite a bit of doing, including the doing of threatening an EI officer with arrest, which is, frankly, something I do not generally restrain myself from when it is good and warranted, and, indeed, enjoy, to get the dadgum gummint to admit that I couldn’t be thrown off EI for refusing to accept an illegal job with the kneecappers from Moscow. There was Occupational Pursuit, the magazine for job hunters, which commissioned several months’s columns in advance of publication and then went belly-up before opening its doors. There was the Spiderwick resume, of which I am still justly proud and convinced that thing wouldn’t be DOA if they’d hired me. There was the pitch for an online Daily Prophet, complete with really-quite-amusing-and-pitch-perfect-if-I-do-say-so-myself columns from Snape and Hagrid which I note I have failed to post on this blog, an omission which shall soon be rectified for lo, they are very funny.
There was this.
But, at last, there was The Manolo. And he said unto me, go forth and post! Save the little chillens from the scourge of Crocs! And he saideth also unto moi, ayyyy, I tire of sifting through Britney’s crotch shots and we all know what your standards are like, so would you manifest thy superfantasticness and take this spiritual burden off my hands? and so it came to pass.
But it was not enough.
Soon, very soon, I shall be babysitting a blogging lab on behalf of the Fearless City project, although what I shall do if it happens to fall on the 21st of February I do not know, for verily it is completely unthinkable that I shall miss a tiki party, particularly one with a buffet. But it’s money, blog money, which is better than blood money if a few orders of magnitude less lucrative.
But, alas, today my very favoritest kind of client, the kind who is nice and friendly and dutiful and who thinks I am a genius and who always pays in cash, immediately, bailed fifteen minutes before the meeting. So there goes the budget for this week.
So, today I find a dream job posted. Really, truly: a dream job. God knows, I’m agnostic when it comes to riches, so they don’t factor into the equation here. But it’s an incredibly high-profile, paid, full-time blogging gig at a place where I’m already somewhat known (Denton was my first follower, although whether that’s good or bad is anyone’s guess) where I know about the management and staff, and it is a site that I adore. That’s the good news.
The bad news is, anyone taking this position is essentially stepping over the still-twitching corpse of Mark Lisanti, perhaps the best writer in the blogosphere. Maybe it was murder; maybe it was suicide. Maybe he’s following his dream and the Sanjaya tour bus to strip malls across the continent. Who knows?
But the net effect is, rather than slavering over my keyboard as I frantically surf through the blogs for writing samples of the very cleverest link roundup in the history of gossip blogs as I have done for so many other Gawker Media openings, I find myself wishing for a monstrously large bottle of Jack Daniels to drink down and then crawl inside and sob.
So, fuck that with a chainsaw.
I’m going for this job instead.
Job specs: work vampire hours, take no shit, bust balls, wear fabulous clothes, attack people inferior to me, then tie them up and ignore them and get paid $185 per hour plus tips. And since it looks like one of their staff will be away on hiatus for 5-15, it’s got a solid future.
Oh yes, dominatrix, you could do that. Me too. And that happy face pic, I can identify with that.
Any guesses how many thousand applications gawker is going to have to swim through? What are the chances of sticking out from the crowd?
I wanna know more about the marvelous tits!
Thus answering the ageless question, “Do bloggers dream of electric sheep being led to the Gawker slaughter?”
ian, the chances are actually pretty good in this case. Getting the job? Whole ‘nother story. I think Denton uses mine for dartboards.
Tuffy: yes. You don’t?
neath, what do you want to know. I have seven of them, some of them canned, some frozen.
I prefer my slaughter to have a Mottram flavor, but that’s a sports blogging thang.
Oh, and Denton’s using your résumé to cut lines.
You know what I mean: “Hey, I need to get into this movie fast. Don’t make me show you raincoaster’s résumé!” Yes. That’s what I mean.
My name is often used for such things. Also for insecticide.
Seriously, I love that walrus more and more each time I see it.
Raincoaster Insecticide? Haven’t seen that one.
It’s only available by special order. As in, you say to the bugs: don’t make me get raincoaster over here! and they all amscray.
That’s not one of your more flattering pics. But definitely captures that ol’ Raincoaster angst.
It’s a cheap camera.
“work vampire hours, take no shit, bust balls, wear fabulous clothes, attack people inferior to me, then tie them up and ignore them and get paid $185 per hour plus tips”
Wow, I totally want this job. Forget being a Hollywood writer where you take a lot of crap and dress down. This is better.
Yep, and you’ve never heard of a dominatrix strike, have you?
“Hurt me! Hurt me!”
Am I the only one that finds this curiously arousing? :)
Um, yes. Is it the lolrus?
So your memoir will be: From Inkwell to Brass Knuckles: Portrait of the Artist as a Ball Buster?
When the Beatles sang “I am the Walrus”, I think that lolrus was what they had in mind. It looks like he has wings!
The walrus was Paul. If only he’d rolled over on Heather in his sleep…I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing.
No, not the “lolrus!” :)
I was talking about the dom stuff. Hawt!!!!! :)
kstafford: That’s only ’cause you don’t know RC in person. If you really knew her, the thought of “Mistress RC” would completely terrify you…
No way, being beaten with tentacles can never be wrong! :)
If beating people with tentacles is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
You’ll be happy to know then that in the spirit of the great “Raincoaster game,” I’ve discovered that you are 7th when searching in google for:
“japanese fairy porn dominatrix”
OUTSTANDING!!! Thanks, I feel speshul.
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@DrMike, I ain’t going there. There are rumours that anyone seeing a likeness of Rain will be turned into little jellyfish and consumed by a passing Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni! Either that or they will be banned from the WordPress forii and excised from the blogipelago.
Ah, that’s from LAST year. I have all new tits now! And much smaller thighs!
I forced Matt and Lloyd to take a picture with me, so presumably that will show up at some point and I’ll be swamped with offers for my hand (and magnificent tits) in marriage. Until that day, however, the Spiders from Antarctica pic shall stand as the definitive raincoaster portrait.
Damn. Never in my life have I been able to say I have magnificent tits.
Yeah, but you’ve got the rest of the body and the face. Me, I’m the queen of dorky hand gestures, double chins, and saddlebags.
Aw, thanks, you. Smooch!
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Hey, the trackback finally showed.
The sigh was for it not showing yet again.
Yes, I had to fish it out of spam. It’s nice that they separate different kinds of stuff in Akismet, but unfortunately the Delete All button doesn’t just delete all of the category you’re looking at; it deletes ALL of them. Tricky and annoying.