I received the following email a while ago, and the worthy pirate fellow has not gotten back to me. But as it caused me to laugh, alone, in the dead of night, at Buffalo Bob's reloading table, I thought I should share it before I go on the road again.

career advice

Inbox

Thu, Oct 1, 8:47 AM (6 days ago)

to james@jameslafond.com

James,

Thank you for the bonus book you sent my way it's appreciated. I know you're a man who understands workplace dynamics and someone whose opinion on fulfilling their potential in the corporate environment is highly regarded. Your advice for climbing the ladder of professional achievement is respected and sought after. I'm applying for a short military assignment that requires a short essay and while editing isn't your strong suit I'm sure your skilled eye could judge the content and surely assist in giving me the material to make me a shoe in with the merit board. See below:

Why I should be selected

I believe I should be selected because that is my will. I’m a disgusting monster but a monster with a family to feed and would benefit greatly from a few of those sweet sweet ZOG bucks that come along with attending such self important circle jerks. You see I’m an under achiever by many standards. My peers have all found themselves with various levels of high esteem within this sickening slave matrix we find ourselves but alas the Irish in me leaves me with two options: soul destroying physical labor or cop but I have been assisted in no small part by the gracious hand of fortune that can turn into a razor blade slap at a moments notice.

While outwardly unassuming with a lackluster career I channel ancient forces that come further and further into my conscious awareness and I look upon everything with an icy detachment that sends chills into the spines of others though they don’t understand whence or whither such terrifying feelings arise. I’m an engineer by military training and with my men we tilled the surface of the earth into how we saw fit all in service to our sclerotic masters. Our machines scraped and graded and moved the waters of the earth where we saw fit. I wouldn’t trade these moments with these men for the world. I mainly observed, recorded, arranged support, and played interference with the micromanaging idiots that would enjoy nothing more than to do what is the opposite of being effective but I can only credit the outstanding men under me for whatever bullshit I put on my OERs. Now, I find myself pretending to be busy here at staff where officers crystallize into the careerist backstabbing bastards that we are all too familiar with. I play my small part in the outdated anachronistic bureaucracy that is lovecraftian in it’s scope known as NATO. These games that powers play in eastern Europe have been played for thousands of years and will continue till Christ comes again in glory to judge this wanting world with fire. It’s only a matter if these games will be played with drones, cyborgs, or sticks and stones or most likely a combination of all the above. War, the ultimate trade will always be waiting for its ultimate practitioner. It would be nice to go out face to face with a Chechen mercenary whom are beautiful in their single minded commitment to bloodshed. A trait found often in mountain peoples. Any man could rest easy going out as a tatar knife tears through their organs and your fingers dive into their eye sockets as blood engorges the mouth and the eyes go dark. But that isn’t in the cards so far. Instead I have to pick and claw for horseshit like this. So take me into consideration and perhaps amongst these faɡɡots attending I may find a kindred soul or two that would walk with me against the shambling shoggoth hordes of modernity with shining weapons, clear conscience, and ill intent.

-Apex Irishman

James LaFond <jameslafond.com@gmail.com>

Fri, Oct 2, 12:30 AM (5 days ago)

I was so intimidated by this request until I started reading it and laughing at my desk.

This is hilarious and, well, true.

Do you have a plan to publish it somewhere?

If you want me to post it I can, but would need a pen name for you.

Thanks for making me laugh, man.

Take care,

james

This was so good and I am moving onward in my hobo way and have decided on your moniker—thank you my fellow Potato N@##$%!