Tales from beyond the Queen’s: How to Get a Job


OK so seriously, this is less of a statement but more of a question. Like how do I get a job? For real, no joke, 420% seriously, how the shit does this work? What? I still have to write this anyway, Leah? Godammit, you come back for one weekend after graduating to relive your glory years decent college times and suddenly you’re some sort of authority on how the fuck to make a living in literally the most complex economic system that has ever been devised. I don’t even know where money comes from! Computers? I don’t fucking know.

Now I know that a lot of you out there are thinking that when the title of an article included the word “job” you immediately, stupidly jump to its sexual implications. And you would be right. Because at least those are out there and available for a youth population currently put down by *society*. To get a paying career, you have to exhaustively craft a resume – much of which is falsified – apply for the job, go through the interview trying REALLY REALLY HARD not to be completely drawn in an aroused by the piercing blue eyes of your interview. Literally, don’t you just wanna go swimming in those eyes? I would love to just dive in float in endless bliss off into the sunset.

Annnnyyyyywaaaayyyyy wow how time flies. Was I adequately prepared by Queen’s to face the rigors of the world? Is “Daniel Woolf” the secret password to get into all the best upper-class orgies around the world? Can one possibly come to realize how shitty pounair actually is? No, Maybe, and Definitely. Not in that order. Yeah, let’s keep you on your toes.

So, ladies and boys, the real question here is not “how to get a job?” but “who are you to tell me I need to get a job, sir?” Because if Bernie Sanders taught us anything, is that an established system with admittedly a few flaws is no match for unchecked idealism and memes. We’re entering a Brave New World where there’s an app for everything and where there were once businesses, now it’s just individuals freelancing literally any useful task. So take my advice and get a three bedroom apartment in downtown toronto, rent out all three bedrooms on AirBNB, find a place for yourself for *dirt cheap* on CouchSurfing, buy a fancy ass car and spend all your free time driving people around as an UberDriver, acquire all your goods on Tradr, syphon all your gas from other nearby cars that, idk, you can probably find on Syphnyr or some shit. Grow your own vegetables or steal from the elderly Portuguese lady in your neighbourhood. Use payphones. Seriously, there’s always a way. We’ll be fine guys, just fine. As long as there never comes a time where we must like, idk, contribute to the greater growth of society or something. Just spitballing.