I know a thing or two about job interviews. I’ve had more than my fair share over my career. On more than a few occasions, the employer even wrote me a personal note saying they would “keep your name on file” if a more suitable opportunity arose or whenever Hell froze over.
Of course, in most cases, your goal in any job interview is to make a good impression. At last count, there are 15,473 different advice books out there pitching strategies to help you prepare for job interviews. These experts offer time-proven, practical tips like Don’t forget to shower before you show up or this useful suggestion: Arrive at least five minutes before your scheduled appointment time, but not seven hours before, as that just comes off as creepy.
But there are no advice books out there on how to blow the interview. That’s where I come in. Say you’re in the middle of a high-stress interview, and it suddenly becomes clear the people at this company are a bunch of a-holes. You conclude you’d rather sit through a three-day insurance presentation on the benefits of whole life over term than ever work for these jerks. What are you going to do? Oh sure, you could just endure the rest of the interview, making steady eye contact, extend a firm handshake, thank the recruiter for her time and exit gracefully – just like every other lame job candidate would do. But since when did you just follow the crowd?
The next time you’re faced with the job interview from Hell, and you know you’d rather take a job as a great white shark feeder with one of those underwater metal cages as your “cubicle” than work one minute for this toxic employer, don’t go walking. Start talking. To help you out, I’ve crafted some handy responses to frequently asked job interview questions, designed to ensure they’ll never invite you back:
Interview question: Why should we hire you over any of the many other highly qualified candidates we are talking to?
Your response: Well, for one thing, can any of them belch the National Anthem on key? Also, if you hire me, your other employees will start to look outstanding by comparison, and that will really help their morale. By the way, I’ve checked into the backgrounds of some of your other candidates. I’m pretty sure I saw the previous interview candidate on an episode of To Catch a Predator. Hey, not to brag, but I have a totally clean criminal record – because they never could prove the arson charges. Also, I never say ugly, racist comments. I always keep those thoughts to myself. (more…)
The Trump Campaign just announced it will be releasing scores of official letters from experts attesting to the fact Donald Trump is fully prepared to be the most incredibly qualified person to run for the American presidency in over 500 years. Below is a partial sampling of the letters the campaign released today.
On Donald Trump’s Health and Fitness
I’ve thoroughly reviewed Donald J. Trump’s medical history, by which I mean I saw him recently on the Doctor Oz show. And I can confirm without hesitation that Mr. Trump is in excellent health. He’s in way better shape than Martin Van Buren or Chester A. Arthur were when they were president. And his hair color is totally natural.
If you ask me, Donald Trump is without a doubt the most physically fit, emotionally stable human being ever to run for any elected office in any nation, not to mention he is incredibly well-endowed “in that department” – no problems there. (Mr. Trump, did I cover all the points you wanted me to in this letter?)
Dr. Derek Shepherd (AKA Doctor McDreamy) Chief of Neuro-surgery Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital (on the hit ABC TV show, Grey’s Anatomy)
On Donald Trump’s readiness to become Commander-in-Chief
Oh sure, I passed away 36 years ago, but I met the Donald once, and from that brief encounter, let me tell you, he’s fully prepared to be our next Commander-in-Chief. People called me “Colonel,” and rightfully so. I was really good at Battleship. So as a military expert, I’m confident Mr. Trump would be a great commander, whether the board game was Stratego or Checkers.
I’m convinced Donald Trump has the right temperament to have access to the nuclear launch codes. That said, I don’t have a clue what the phrase “nuclear launch codes” actually means. But I do know he likes to eat KFC, so this Colonel is ready to give him a patriotic salute.
Recently I joined an extremely exclusive club here on Camano Island – the swank Royal Racquet and Earl Grey Tea Society. They play on the only public tennis courts on the island. In order to be considered for membership you must live on the island, be male (sorry ladies, get your own club), be at least 60 years old (at 61, I barely made the cut) and be able to ambulate without any help from your grandchildren.
I was inducted into this fashionable club in a formal private ceremony which involved my walking onto the courts and asking, “Hey, mind if I join you guys for some tennis?” Apparently that was the correct secret phrase because somehow they let me in on my very first try, without any background check or body cavity search.
The posh Royal Racquet and Earl Grey Tea Society, more commonly known by its members as the Old Farts Tennis Club (OFT for short) is 25 members strong plus 11 more who are admittedly weak.
The rules of play for the Old Farts Tennis Club are rigorous:
All games are played in a classic doubles format.
Play must go on regardless of inclement weather conditions – unless it rains or looks like it eventually might.
Players must hit the ball such that it lands within the boundaries of the tennis court, as designated by white lines around the perimeter – except for Ernie, in which case if his shot lands within a foot of the line, that’s close enough. Members have suggested to Ernie it’s probably time he got his eyes checked.
Members must remember to wear their pants when they show up to play – this rule was created specifically for a member named “Barney.” (Not his real name. His real name is Ned.)
Hello. Tim Jones here. This presidential election year is historic in several ways. It is the first time in US history that:
a woman has been nominated by a major political party as their presidential candidate
a major political party has selected a narcissistic, bullying, sociopath as their standard bearer
a major political party has selected a lying, misogynistic racist as their standard bearer
a major political party has selected a thin-skinned, egotistical, uninformed billionaire demagogue as their standard bearer
Did I mention it’s the first time a major political party has selected an utterly unfit, insane whack job for president?
All of these firsts are well and good, but these headlines totally bury the lead – which is: this is also the first time in American presidential history a major political party has placed a TIM on the ticket! That’s right. Someone with the same first name as me: Senator Tim Kaine is Hillary’s Vice Presidential pick.
Admittedly, Tim Kaine is not exactly Mr. Excitement. He pretty much looks like every suburban soccer dad I’ve ever carpooled with. When you google the word “bland” the first search result is a photo of Tim Kaine. Okay, so he’s safe and boring. But you’re missing the point. His name is TIM!!
There have been plenty of people with names like John, Robert, William, and James selected to run as Vice President – and a whole bunch of Dicks. There have even been VP candidates with obscure names like Chester, Rufus, and Hannibal. (Honest.) But until this year, there has never been a single person named TIM selected to be a presidential or vice presidential candidate.
The lamestream media won’t talk about this dirty little secret, but we TIM’s have been pushed around or ignored politically for the past 220 years. For too long, TIM’s have had to live with the cruel acceptance that our name was primarily associated with cripples and freaks — from the pitiful Tiny Tim in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol to the grotesque long-haired oddball ukulele-playing singer who, using that same name, became embarrassingly famous for his falsetto rendition of Tiptoe Through the Tulips.
While the recent Rio Olympic Games are still fresh in your mind, it’s a perfect time to start getting your own child ready for the 2028 Olympics. The final venue has not yet been decided. I hear it’s down to Buenos Aires, Budapest and Pidgeon Forge, Tennessee. (I hear you. Why on earth is Budapest on that list? Ridiculous.)
First the bad news: If your kid is over the age of twelve, I hate to break it to you, but you waited too long. With only 12 years left until the 2028 games, there’s not nearly enough time to get your teenager up to speed.
If you love your young child, don’t waste another day. First choose a sport. But before you get ahead of yourself and say “gymnastics”, slow down, mom. Unless you plan to starve your child so she tops out at 87 pounds and 4’ 10”, I should caution you – gymnastics gold is pretty elusive. Besides, I checked. There’s this three-year-old from China who looks unbeatable for 2028.
Take a couple minutes (but not more than ten) to think about which sports make the most sense for your child to compete in. Then throw them all out the window, because the only events that will ever bring your future Olympian serious Benjamins from sponsorships are track, swimming, and gymnastics (which the Chinese girl has already got locked up). When was the last time you saw a badminton Olympian on a box of Wheaties? Come to think of it, when was the last time you saw a box of Wheaties?
Once you’ve chosen your child’s Olympic specialty, it’s time to launch a rigorous training program. You’ll need a coach – someone who’s an expert in helping kids reach their full potential and crushing their spirit into dust if they make the tiniest mistake off the starting blocks. Choose your child’s coach carefully because he or she will replace you in your child’s life from this point forward. If at all possible, find a coach who bears at least a passing resemblance to you, to help remind her of the parent she once loved. Don’t worry. You’ll still be able to spend time with her every fourth Saturday and on Christmas morning until noon (after which she has to get back to her workout regimen).
I know a thing or two about job interviews. I’ve had more than my fair share over my career. On more than a few occasions, the employer even wrote me a personal note saying they would “keep your name on file” if a more suitable opportunity arose or whenever Hell froze over.
Recently I joined an extremely exclusive club here on Camano Island – the swank Royal Racquet and Earl Grey Tea Society. They play on the only public tennis courts on the island. In order to be considered for membership you must live on the island, be male (sorry ladies, get your own club), be at least 60 years old (at 61, I barely made the cut) and be able to ambulate without any help from your grandchildren.
