Hand Holding Paper

Worst job application ever

Dear whatever it is your name is,

I am applying for the position of Junior Paper-Shuffling Specialist at your company.

I’m the perfect candidate. Wait. I just looked up the definition of the word “perfect,” and now I’d like to change my previous statement to “I’m a candidate.”

Firstly, I am highly motivated to get a salary.

Secondly, I am currently unemployed, which means I can start at a moment’s notice. Literally. I am outside your office right now.

Over the course of my extensive, two-month career, I have taken only 17 sick days. Well over half of those were true medical issues. Insomnia. Tiredness. Simpsons marathons. That kind of stuff.

I am a true team player. My former colleagues have frequently characterized me as “I don’t mind him,” “that lazy guy,” and “who?”.

I don’t drink or smoke, unless I have enough money to buy alcohol and cigarettes, in which case I do. A lot.

I am a quick learner. It once took me only seven viewings to figure out the plot of The Sixth Sense. Additionally, I have a wide range of skills that include staring intently at people in a way that suggests I’m listening to them, typing loudly, and interpretive dance.

I’m an avid collector. My collections include vintage porn DVDs, curiously shaped cigarette butts, and spare parts from discarded Ford minivans. I also have other hobbies. I’m familiar with social media. I maintain an active Facebook account, where I frequently post pictures of my lava lamp and my CandyFarmQuest scores.

I am certain that I can contribute greatly to your company. My mere presence will create the illusion of a busy office environment, so that potential clients are impressed with your people-hiring abilities. I don’t have friends or acquaintances, so I’m willing to work weekends, as long as I don’t have to show up at work and nobody’s around to monitor me.

If my former employer had to say a few words about me, they’d probably be angry screams of hatred, accompanied by wanton destruction of nearby objects. Don’t call him.

In conclusion, you could probably do a lot worse than hiring me. (You could set your offices on fire, for example.)

I look forward to your response.