The paperwork and formalities are finally out of the way, and I'm set on a path to graduate in roughly nine months. That makes this the season to dole out resumes to (mostly unwanting) recipients, much in the same manner rush party flyers were handed to me some five years ago.
As my first step into professionalism, I am clearing out all old entries and detaching my name and image from all previous adolescent rantings including, but not limited to, discriminatory, misogynistic, or otherwise demeaning remarks, allusions to reproductive organs, jests of spousal abuse and other forms of domestic violence, and anecdotes pertaining to debauchery and hedonistic activities.
Hopefully, in the coming few weeks, Google spiders will archive my, now, relatively blank 'blog, and clear out its incriminating cache. And then, when recruiters try to perform background checks and thumb through digital Internet traces of me, they'll say, "My God! This guy has had Xanga for five years and he's barely written a word! He has no opinion, Bob, we must hire him!"
In closing, I would like to give one last hoo-rah to all the fans of my often lewd and gaudy sense of humor while, at the same time, giving any future potential employers one additional perk to offer me a job, by saying this:
I have huge minty balls.
