Last week I was responding to ridiculous email marketing pitches with my standard surprisingly-I-work-for-money-and-not-just-for-toilet-paper-coupons-thankyouverymuch form letter but then I actually got a reply from a bingo company who was all “Well of course we’d pay you for your work. Don’t be ridiculous. Please send us some graphic ad samples to choose from” and then I was all “Oh. I have made a terrible mistake” because I’m not actually that good at creating ads and also because it’s an ad for Bingo, y’all. I didn’t even know bingo still existed (although it should because it was totally my favorite game when I was 8). But I pretended that I totally knew all about modern Bingo because that’s how the professionals do it and I sent them 6 ads to choose from:
Surprisingly, I have not heard back from them.
Updated: Holy shit, y’all. I just got an email from the bingo people and they actually went for it. Way to go, possibly drunken Bingo people! If my life was an 80’s movie this is when I’d accidentally get promoted to a corner office and the guy who’s been working for the company for years would be all pissed and he’d vow to bring me down but in the end it wouldn’t matter because I’d realize that money isn’t as important as love and then I’d make out with Judd Nelson while I flipped off the establishment and then the establishment would be all “Wow. Your honest attitude is refreshing. You’re HIRED AGAIN!” and then they’d make the villain guy be the doorman at the office and he’d be all angrily mumbly under his breath whenever I came in and wait, why the hell did we hire him to open the door of the building? That guy is dangerous and has an axe to grind. Why the fuck would we put him in security? Now I have a headache. But also? I think I just got promoted to the head of the ad department in my office. Except that I work at home and technically I have to open my front door for myself so I think that means I’m also the doorman. Fuck that. From now on Victor’s gonna have to open the door.
Updated again: I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to yell “I’m on a fucking conference call. YOUR ARMS AREN’T BROKEN” when you’re a doorman. Victor is a terrible doorman.
Comment of the day: “Bingo: Because hearing “O 69? over and over again never ever gets less hilarious.” ~ moooooog35