I have three articles that I never finished. It was either because I couldn’t stretch them out enough into an article, or I just wasn’t feeling it. One is about the horrors of my first job interview out of college, the other is bitching about the crappiness of the Sunday comics, and the most recent reject is about a fake video game. I decided to ditch these stories, and since then, they have been hanging in limbo in the “My Documents” folder, never to be seen again…UNTIL NOW!

Job Interview

I had just gotten a bad haircut. It was awful. I asked the woman at the place for a short fade, and she gave me an army buzz cut. My sides were completely shaved and the top of my hair was virtually uncut. I looked like Ernie from Sesame Street – no hair except for that little patch on top. My girlfriend was disgusted. My parents made fun of me and called me a wiener. Big deal, I thought. It’s not like I’ll have a job interview. I haven’t had one since I returned home from college and it was September! I slept over at my girlfriend’s place that night, but she was so turned off by my hair, I received no sex. I didn’t blame her – I wouldn’t fuck me either.

My ringing cell phone woke me up the next morning. I never slept well at my ex-girlfriend’s place. I was always mashed up against the wall or half of my body was dangling off the side. It’s strange because my ex-girlfriend was a small girl, yet somehow she can take command of a bed. Anyway, I picked up my cell phone.

“Hello?” I asked, half awake.

“Hello,” said the female voice on the other side. “Is this Matthew Fishman?”

“Yeah.”

“Hello Matthew, this is jfineifj3iefjio3jfoirfj4oi from Thomajijfi3ifj3 Publishing.” Notice the gibberish? I was so groggy that I had no fucking clue what she was saying.

“Oh…Yeah?”

“We have your resume and we would like to set up an interview with you.”

“Oh, great!”

“Before we ask you to come in, you said on your resume that you want to be a writer.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this job isn’t a writing position. It’s a part of our editorial team. There won’t be any creative work, but it’s a good entry-level position to get into publishing.”

“I’ll still come in. It sounds great.”

“Good!”

Anyway, the woman gave me an appointment. At first, I was excited, but it was quickly replaced by horror. My hair looked like shit! It was Monday morning, but the interview was Wednesday morning. I was already screwed! I was unable to land a job interview the entire summer, yet once I received a bad haircut, I get a call the next day? What were the fucking odds? I felt like God was laughing at me from a cloud up on high.

“HAHAHAHA!” God laughed. “NOW FISHMAN LOOKS LIKE SHIT FOR HIS JOB INTERVIEW.”

“Sir,” an angel said. “We really need to deal with those Iraqi terrorists, the genocide in Sudan, and George W. Bush.”

“FORGET IT! CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY MAKING LIFE HARD ON THIS KID? IT’S SO AWESOME BEING OMNIPOTENT.”

It’s really dick to think that God only cares about me, but it’s fun to write about. The worst part is I had no idea what the company was called. I recall Carol saying 5 Penn Plaza, so when I went home I looked it up on Google. I found out that it was Thomas Publishing, a huge company that made industrial catalogues.

During the two days leading up to the interview, I wasn’t nervous at all. However, when I put on my suit that Wednesday morning, I looked myself in the mirror and froze up. I wasn’t sure why, but I had this strange uneasiness. On the train to the city, I felt like the ride was taking a long time. It’s only a 35-minute ride, and without stopping, I bet the ride would take 20 minutes. But that day, the ride was lasting forever in my mind. I kept thinking, “If I get this job, I would have to make this trip everyday.” I was getting nervous.

I actually had trouble located 5 Penn Plaza. You may think I’m a retard since my train stops at Penn Station, but for some reason, 5 Penn Plaza is not in Penn Plaza. Penn Plaza goes from 1-4, then 6-9. 5 wasn’t there. I felt like I was looking for the 7 ½ floor from Being John Malkovich. I even asked a cop and he had no idea where it was! After circling the block three times, I sat on the steps of the New York City Post Office, scratching my head in confusion. Where the hell was this building? Was I just not seeing it? I decided to head one block over to the building next to the post office. Sure enough, this building was 5 Penn Plaza. Why it’s called Penn Plaza is beyond me, but I was real glad to see it.

After a quick inspection by security, I took the elevator to the Human Resources department. I hate saying Human Resources. Are there Gerbil Resources? Hawk Resources? Great White Shark Resources? The term Human Resources to me implies that alien reptiles are the bosses. Just call it Employee Resources or something. Anyway, when I got to the front desk of the department and explained who I was to secretary, she gave me a form to fill out and a test. Not just any test – a spelling and math test. A FUCKING MATH TEST! I SUCK AT MATH! Before me was an entire sheet with long addition, long subtraction, long multiplication, and long division! In school, I always said, “When the hell will I ever use long division? Gee, I’m sure when I go for a job interview, they’ll ask, ‘What’s 4,503 divided by 99?’ It’s pointless.” What a fool I was! My 4th grade teacher was laughing at me in my mind. I began to get so nervous, that my deodorant ceased to exist and my armpits were pouring sweat. Extreme Power Stripe, my ass. That’s the last time I’ll be swayed by a deodorant endorsed by Method Man and Red Man. No…that’s not true. I can’t stay mad at those guys.

The test was brutal. First of all, I didn’t know the rules. Do I show my work? There is no way I could do long multiplication in my head. Was I allowed to use the calculator on my cell phone? I thought it would be cheating, so I didn’t use it. I struggled through the math test and I showed my work alright – I scribbled the entire page with equations and crossed out failed equations. Anxiety was kicking in hardcore. My tie was feeling like a noose, so I kept loosening it. The secretary kept looking over at me, wondering why I was squirming around and why I was taking so long. After finally completing the math test, I breezed through the spelling test, which was a huge mistake. I didn’t even check my work on that part. I ended up just getting 3 wrong out of 20 on the math test, but I got 7 wrong out of 20 on the spelling test. Spelling is my strong point, too! Sweet irony.

This is where I stopped the article. As Ian Kardys would say, “The article had no punchline.” Long story short, after finishing the test, I still had to wait ten minutes for the interviewer. I kept looking at myself in the suit and thought about how uncomfortable it made me. I really wasn’t ready to wear a suit everyday; it was too adult. The interview itself went alright, except that my mouth was very dry. When I spoke, dried saliva built up on both sides of my mouth. I kept licking my lips over and over, so I’m sure the interviewer thought that I was a pervert or something.

Sunday Comics

I used to love the Sunday comics, but they really suck now. I miss “Calvin & Hobbes” and “The Far Side.” Now, we have crap like “Mallard Fillmore,” “Helen, Sweetheart of the Internet,” and “Mutts.” I hate Mutts. I never understood its appeal. When it first appeared in the newspapers around here, I mentioned how shitty it was to my idiot friend. He went, “The humor is above you.” I went, “No, you’re just a fucking idiot and my I.Q. has actually dropped a point by engaging in conversation with you.” Here’s a sample Mutts comic strip:

That humor isn’t above me. That humor is below me. That humor is a fucking midget compared to me…but you know what? It’s just a different brand of humor. Mutts is the kind of comic your grandmother would cut out and paste on her refrigerator. It’s bland and inoffensive. It sucks, but lame people need comic strips, too. But is it above me? No. Now for your viewing pleasure, here is that same Mutts comic strip, edited with different brands of humor:

I stopped after that. I was going to comment on “Hagar the Horrible” and how it’s a comedy about a viking who pretty much murders, rapes, and pillages. They always make light of him raiding a castle. I was looking for a comic where Hagar is doing so and then add an extra panel of him slitting a guy’s throat, but I felt that I was already stretching it with the Mutts thing.

Zubazbound

You all know that I’m a big Earthbound fan, along with fellow Zubazkateer Mike Morano. He mentioned on the forum that I should do an Earthbound article. Well, I created some sprites and was going to post fake screenshots of Zubazbound, a video game with every Zubaz writer as characters! I only completed three sprites before I became bored: Jim, Ian, and myself.

I couldn’t even think of anything funny for that article. No one would be able to appreciate it, save for Morano and a few others. It’s a shame that such a work of genius like Earthbound is known by so few.

Questions? Comments? What is 4,503 divided by 99? E-mail Fishman347@yahoo.com