As you wonderful readers have observed, I've gradually been enlisting writers to create an elite staff at the ol' Waldo Faldo Journal. This has nothing to do with me being too lazy to blog or being too big for my britches. In fact there's a distinct possibility that these people do not even exist and my "writing staff" is just me, a latent schizophrenic. But for better or worse, the Waldo Faldo's Crack Staff is assembling like the Avengers, and this journalistic triumph will illuminate a whole new prism of perspectives that will undo the black and white doldrums of the corporate owned newspaper and antiquated media industry!
Anywho, while we're being candid, I should also mention that I've been looking for a woman! (Did that need to be an exclamation point? I don't want so sound desperate.) Anywho, looking for a woman but not any ol' woman will do. I want to meet a lady I have some things in common with, and those things are height and weight. (I'm 5'10 and 150 lbs. If you are too - exactly - message me! ;)) But then at one point I thought, wouldn't it be cool to meet a lady writer?
I shared these thoughts with my dad, who thought my height/weight specifications were just plain loony. He doesn't understand that symmetry is sexy!
I pointed to the issue of Playboy with Sally Field on the front that he has framed on his wall. "Look how great that picture looks in that spot," I said. "If you were going to replace it with another picture, you wouldn't want a horizontally-oriented picture or one much smaller; it would behoove you to get a picture the same size because you know what works."
He yelled guturally, "Why the hell would I take down my Sally Field picture?"
Parents just don't understand. Especially when the topic is love and they're divorced as fuck.
I let pops continue his diatribe even though our court-ordered two-hour visitation period was technically over.
"Look, you're never gonna meet no Sally fucking Field."
I wittily quipped, "More like still playing the field! Huh? Huh?" I nudged him and he swatted at me.
He said, "No! More like playing with yourself cause you havent Field up a real woman in years!"
"Touché," I said. The witty apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
"Look, you're in your late 20s," he continued, "Most girls your age have a divorce under their belt and stretch marks and C-section scars right above their belt. These young bimbos that got a shopping cart full of little rugrats, that's what you ought to go for. They've already been burned by their baby-daddies, so you'd be kind of he a catch to them."
"Dad," I began in a Hallmark card tone, "Do you think if make a good stepdad?"
"Well I sure wouldn't want you to be my stepdad! But what do I care about some random brat that you're trying to bang the mom of? Not my problem," he said, cocking his pistol.
Maybe it was just the Stockholm Syndrome talking, but I started to think my pops had hit the nail right on the head. His idea reminded me of a buzzword I'd been hearing all over the media, "mommy-blogger." A mommy-blogger is a female with a child, Internet access, and significant free time. They like to read and write, which is very appealing to me, and by being in the unenviable position of single motherhood they have few options, which makes me appealing to them. So much like a hunter aiming at a helpless doe with its foot stuck in a fence, I set my sights on single mommy bloggers.
I tried using the free site OKCupid to find the blogger-girl of my dreams, but their criteria filters are terrible. I may have found a bevy of single moms, but if I can't read essays or think pieces by these women, I might as well be looking for a needle in a haystack. And when I messaged some of them asking for writing samples, they got all weird about it. Of course with OKCupid, you get what you pay for.
You get what you pay for - indeed this was an adage I needed to follow my damn self. And that makes it sound like I was pursuing a mail-order bride, but that's decidedly not what I was interested in. Surely I could find a true babe from Russia - but probably not an English major - which would defeat my purpose like a band of Ukrainian rebels. (Although I do hope to travel to Russia one day to attend one of their "pussy riots!")
By this point I was thinking less about my loins and more about my business, like the opposite of Wolf of Wall St (Wolf of Waldo!) My priority was to find a feminine voice that could contribute to my grand journalistic endeavor. If her and I were to fall in love in the workplace, fueled by a cocktail of creative ambition and pent-up sexual tension that crescendoed in a supernova-like kiss on top of the copy machine, well I guess that'd be pretty cool too.
By this point I was thinking less about my loins and more about my business, like the opposite of Wolf of Wall St (Wolf of Waldo!) My priority was to find a feminine voice that could contribute to my grand journalistic endeavor. If her and I were to fall in love in the workplace, fueled by a cocktail of creative ambition and pent-up sexual tension that crescendoed in a supernova-like kiss on top of the copy machine, well I guess that'd be pretty cool too.
So to Craigslist I went, with a wanted ad in the writing services section I designed to be short, sweet, and enticing! Who could resist applying for a job so...mysterious?! I couldn't wait to meet my dream candidate. I wasn't looking forward to disappointing them with the fact that there's be no "big $$$" - not yet anyway! - but the upside is that they'd get to work for the funniest site on the web!
To expedite the search, I actually bought ads throughout cyberspace. These clever ads use a pitch woman to express the perks of the blogging lifestyle. Young women see this and think, that could be me! And then anytime I would browse a Yahoo article about Emma Stone or something, I'd just drop a little ad in the comments box. This would also be from the perspective of a young woman; I'd brag about how much money I've made by blogging and post a little link. I know some web businesses have special spam-robots to do this, but the Waldo Faldo Journal will not be taken over my soulless robots (DO YOU HEAR ME, ROBOTS? YOU WILL NEVER RULE US!)
There's no telling which of these baiting techniques helped me land the big kahuna, but it didn't matter because I had found her at last! It felt like my whole life had been leading to the moment when I opened that first e-mail, and a tingle washed over me and I bloomed like a flower. I opened the window and stuck my head out and saw flowers blooming in synchronization, and birds were performing ballet in the warm summer air, which felt like a toasty fart from a fairy. "I found her!" I screamed, and my neighbors got out of their swimming pool and went inside.
 |
| "Geez" Louise W. |
So before I get to Louise's work, I'll copy and paste our email conversation in its entirety. I presume it'll be easy to imagine the butterflies in my stomach whilst I courted Miss Louise; the exitement and joy of those early flirtatious moments in a relationship.
RE:RE:RE:RE: Opening position for writer with a female perspective
>>>>>>>>>Oh, you have a husband...? :(
>>>>>>>OK great. I'll get started on those articles soon. I'll have a lot more time next week. Right now my husband's car is in the shop and I have to drive 40 minutes to take him to work.
>>>>>>>>wow you're so sassy! glad you're on the Waldo Faldo team, Louise! Please see the attachments in this e-mail. You'll find a PDF file with the first couple of writing topics I'd like to you tackle, as well as a Powerpoint slideshow of the coolest graphics I've made with Photoshop. And as a bonus, there's a lot of pics of me in there! (And I swear those have not been touched up! ;p)
>>>>>>>>Oh ok. I'm attaching a pic. I'm a proud mom and grandmom from Flagstaff, Arizona and my age is "nunya!" In my spare time I love to write, obviously, and also volunteer at my church.
>>>>>>oh sorry. ASL is retro Internet lingo for "age, sex, location." I was trying to be cheeky, but I do wanna know your stats and also a bit about you so I can put up a short bio for you.
>>>>>what?
>>>>so.... ASL?? Hahahahehehha!!
>>>yea that's the first time I've heard "Geez Louise." NOT!
>>awesome, thanks for replying! You seem really cool. I'll send you some topics to write about for Waldo Faldo Journal, and I know just what we'll call your section: Geez Louise!! Ahhahahaa!
>Hi, my name is Louise and I'm interested in blogging for your company. I love to write, I've been working on a novel off and on for years. My friend says I should start blogging but I don't really know how to set one up.
So that's how I met your mommy-blogger. She's a real cool woman with a way with words. So I'm proud to present the first edition of Geez Louise, in which my net-friend Louise reviews pop culture and human interest news with her trademark snark.
Assignment: Write a review of this stunning, innovative furniture featured at Milan Design Week.
Geez Louise: Well I don't really get this stuff. These chairs look weird and uncomfortable; I'd rather stand. I mean, what's the point of making something normal like a chair into some kind weird thing. Is this a joke? Looks like they belong at some kind of kid's playhouse. I'll stick by my old rocking chair, thank you very much.
Assignment: Cover the Tokyo Toilet Expo! [http://photos.denverpost.com/2014/07/08/toilet-expo-japan/]
Geez Louise: Oh my goodness, you've got to be kidding me. I'm flushing this assignment. I've never been so happy to be in America. I think I'll go do the pledge of allegiance right now.
Hey, does she tell it like is or what? Louise did such a good job shitting on these news tidbits I figured it was time to let her straight up win the Internet. As we all know, the only way to do this is write a provocative think piece. A good think piece, especially one involving gender issues, is like the most valuable currency on the web; hot takes are worth their weight in Bitcoin.
So I asked Louise to ponder the career of Carly Ray Jepsen, who became famous about 1.5 years ago (decade of Internet time) with the hit Call Me Maybe. Though she became a viral star quickly, today one could only guess that she's a bedridden shut-in, because her next hit never came. So how does Louise the soothsayer see the Carly Ray story unfolding? Will she continue to get lapped by her contemporaries in Katy Perry and Lorde, or will the pop world *69 her and call her back, maybe?
Geez Louise:
If Carly Ray Jepsen wants a second chapter in her career I have three words for da girl: Slut. It. Up.
That's right, slut it up. Look, this is iust the state of pop music today. You got Miley Cyrus riding giant genitalia in her concerts, which shows all the young girls what a man's privates look like. But there ain't no man with a unit that big. And that's pop music in a nutshell, folks.
Then you got this chick Sky Ferriera, who went ahead and showed both of her breasts on her album cover. Geez Louise! Hey, the next big thing or big hit is just a click away anymore, you gotta do what it takes to get whatever ADD attention you can.
Take the restaurant Wendy's for example, they saw the writing on the wall. Hamburgers weren't selling like they did in the last few decades and Wendy's was going to lose out to healthier alternatives like Whole Foods and fro-yo shops. So what'd they do? They added a dang salad to the menu. Could you imagine that old lady from the '80s commercials going in there and saying, "Where's the salad?" It's called getting with the times, people.
We're all living longer by eating healthier and listening to raunchier pop music, because #YOLO. So my advice to Carly Ray Jepsen: try that Asian Bistro Salad at Wendy's, it's actually really good!
Wow, you never know what to expect from ol' Geez Louise! Stay tuned for more Geez Louise on the Waldo Faldo Journal, that is until Huffington Post snatches her away.
