Fuck You, Mom and Dad! This Time I’m Going to Make It- And I’ll Never Move Back Into the Basement Again!

That’s right. I’ve decided to become an Advertising Genius. It’s capitalized because I’m anticipating that that is what my title will be. Yes, I’ll be the “Advertising Genius,” just as soon as those slobs down at Foote Cone & Belding finally realize my potential (I hate those fucking slobs)!

Now, you might ask, “why enter a field in which you have no formal education, training, experience, or expertise?” Answer: Because this is America, and I can. But my brashness and egotism aside, I know exactly what I’m doing and whatever that is, I’m great at it.

I have cracked the advertising code, making me the best candidate for rocking the socks off the outwardly strict but secretly party-girl hearted advertising world. So turn the basement into that billiards room you always wanted, Pops. I’m not coming back.

What’s the code? A smart person wouldn’t reveal the secret; but I’m not smart; I’m a genius.

The secret is this: to sell a product you need one of the following three things; a computer generated animal mascot with a foreign accent, a confusing message that has nothing to do with what you are selling, or hot, young, college girls willing to battle things out on a private island for your viewing pleasure.

With one chance in three to get it right, I figure I have an 83.77% chance that my career gamble won’t leave me dejected and penniless, working in the mailroom like some sort of mailroom employee.

Ugh! Please don’t cry, Mom! Yes! Those are the actual numbers! I had a fellow genius, (Fred, who mans the cash register at the Wilson Farms where I used to work), figure them out.

You guys never believe in me! Do the math yourself! But, you’ll only find one thing: that those numbers not only check out- they pay off big time.