Writing this column is tricky business. I tend to be of the persuasion that the more you push the envelope the funnier things become. That said, we live in an age where almost everything we ever do is permanently documented online, and thus able to come back and haunt us.
untagging photos on Facebook, and I make a point not to discuss all the felonies I have committed via status updates. This column, therefore, is my biggest liability. Pushing the envelope can cost you, and try as I may to censor myself, I have too much faith in comedy to completely water my writings down.
Because of this, I live with a permanent gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach because I know, at some point in the future, an employer is going to discover my columns. Ergo, please allow me to use this opportunity to explain myself, and hope like hell this is one of the first columns my potential boss reads.
Dear future employer,
Why hello! It appears as though you have discovered I'm a page two columnist for The Daily Cardinal. Seeing as I don't include this job on my resume, these clips in my portfolio or this experience in my job interviews, you must have stumbled across them doing a Google search or something of the like. You are quite thorough, you sneaky devil. Good for you!
You probably have a few questions about what you have found, so let me set the record straight right now. God's honest truth: I did not write any of these articles. Similar to William Shakespeare, I am merely the vehicle through which a person of nobility (i.e. Scott Walker) delivers his works.
Oh, you read the article where ""I"" discussed hiding ""my"" vibrator? Well, Scotty does love those, though I must admit I was a bit perplexed reading about his fear of his parents finding his vibrator when he died. You would think he would be more concerned with the stability of Wisconsin's economy or the fact that he is a grade-A asshat, but no. Vibrators took the cake.
What about me? No, I do not have a vibrator, and it is definitely not hot pink. In fact, I think vibrators are evil tools created for the purpose of making men irrelevant on the sexual landscape. We should stop talking about this now.
I think it is in both of our best interests that this be the last page two column of ""mine"" you read. The year has only just begun, and I have a feeling things could get a bit more vulgar. Just as he uses his Twitter account to channel his inner female teenybopper, this column is Scott's way of gabbing with his 20-something constituents. The governor tells this great story about how his boss felt he displayed too much cleavage in the workplace one day, and I bet Scotty will want to share that tale with his peeps (minus you).
With that, thank you for your interest. You may put my resume through the shredder now.
Sincerely,
""Jacqueline""
Are you an employer impressed by Jacqueline's candid sass? Then offer her a swank job with a pension at jgoreily@wisc.edu.
