WHY I AM RESIGNING FROM MY TECHNOLOGY COMPANY AND KEEPING ALL THE MONEY


Funny!

When I first got hired to work as DMM at Zikkler, I did so with two simple goals in mind: to make the world a better place and to purchase a house near Lake Tahoe that was bigger than my brother-in-law’s. I have definitely accomplished the second goal, as you can see from the many photos I passed out comparing the two homes from multiple different angles. However, it is time to admit that I have not accomplished the first.

This job simply turned into something I did not expect, starting with my title. I was under the impression that I would be the Digital Media Mastermind, but after about two weeks, I learned that DMM actually stood for Data Monetization Manager. I probably should have figured out what it stood for before I accepted the job, but my contract just had so many zeroes in it, making it hard to focus on the details.

The complete article

Eddie Small — McSweeney’s

I LOST TEN POUNDS AND ALL I HAD TO DO WAS EAT OUT OF THIS DUMPSTER LIKE A RACCOON!


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Today’s needull is a humorous take on the hundreds weight loss stories that float on the net.

I’ve found winter is the hardest time for me to keep off the weight that determines my entire self-worth. Luckily, these masked mammals have that figured out too — just completely shut your body down! From first frost to the early spring rains, my alley dwelling neighbors and I cease all physical exertion and consume only enough to keep our hearts pumping blood through our bodies — which are an ideal 15-20% smaller than the males of our species. The raccoons do this because frost prohibits them from effectively finding food. I do it because society has made me loathe my natural body shape. Same-same!

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Cait Bladt — McSweeney’s Internet Tendency

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IF WOMEN WROTE MEN THE WAY MEN WRITE WOMEN


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Today’s needull is one of the most funny pieces I have read in a long time.

Brett pulled his tank top up over his head and stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He pushed down his jeans, then his boxers, and imagined the moment when Jennifer saw him nude for the first time. His feet were average-sized, and there was hair on his toes that he should probably take care of before tonight. He liked his legs just fine, but his thighs were wide and embarrassingly muscular. He tried standing at an angle, a twist at his waist. Some improvement. In that position, it was easier to see his ass and notice that it was not as pert as it had been at 22. He clenched both cheeks, hoping that tightened its look. He sucked in his tummy and pulled his pecs up high, trying to present them like pastries in a bakery window. Would she like him? Were the goods good enough? He pouted his lips and ran his hands over his thighs, masking their expanse. Maybe.

The complete article

Meg Elison — McSweeney’s Internet Tendency

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