Seeking Part Time Job

Everyone wants a cover letter. I think cover letters are lame. Recently, I applied for the position of a store manager at Ricky’s for work during the Halloween season. Here is my cover letter -

Dear Ricky, Aug. 12^th 2009

I think you are the coolest store in Manhattan. The way you dress, the way you smile… I want to be like you. I want to be one of your store managers for this upcoming Halloween season, and perhaps beyond. Living in New York can be rough, but stores like you help people get out of their “funk” and into their “funky”. Being a part of that would light up my life. In turn, I would brighten up the days of your customers and employees. It would be a cycle of happiness and our reciprocal love for the universe will shine through your store windows, drawing in lots of gorgeous people with lots of gorgeous money. Let’s make money!

Speaking of cash, let me share my recent salary history, as requested in your ad on Craigslist. I am currently raking in __K a year as a day-time receptionist. Before becoming a professional phone monkey, I was making 12 dollars an hour at Starbucks as a shift manager. Previous to my lucrative coffee career, I don’t remember my salary history because I was simply too poor. You can only count 3 quarters and a nickel so many times.

I have years of experience in retail management and positive energy. Put me to the test and let me show you how to fly.

Ghoulishly Yours,

Jeffrey Marx

Why I’m Glad Kris Allen Won ‘American Idol’

Think of all the momentum that Adam Lambert had built during the ‘American Idol’ competition. Think of the millions of fans that were befuddled when they announced Kris Allen the winner. Now, think of this reality TV show as a political metaphor for gay rights.

Adam Lambert is a no-brainer if you are judging solely upon vocal prowess, but this show isn’t just about who sings the best. The show is about who is most popular, and most importantly, how do you manipulate the wholesome viewers to like you best? We heard all about Danny Gokey’s dead wife until she was beat into the ground like a dead horse. The producers paraded Scott Whatshisname, better known as The Blind Guy, for all to see. Single motherhood was the theme for that one chick who’s name fails me, but I’m too uninterested to google her name. Kris Allen was seen at his family’s house in Arkansas, just having a good, old family time. But what was Adam’s backstory? Can you remember? Nothing.

The best way to deal with an unofficially-out gay artist is by not dealing with it. No mention of your family life. No mention of a boyfriend. No mention of his flamboyant style. Adam’s talent spoke for itself. I don’t blame Adam for not officially coming out. You have to play the system to beat the system.

So, what happened? The bottom line is that Danny Gokey votes flocked to Kris Allen after Danny was eliminated, coming in third. But, if you take a moment and realize that ‘American Idol’ is the number one family show, then it doesn’t take a genius to realize that they are rooting for their squeaky clean Kris Allen. They have the numbers to vote in Kris, but it doesn’t mean he is the best singer. The American Majority isn’t always right, just like the debate on gay marriage.

I am glad Kris Allen won because it will keep the conversation rolling on what is right and what is wrong in regards to gay politics. Adam Lambert will continue to fight for his sure-to-be amazing career, just as gays everywhere will continue to fight for our soon-to-be accepted marriage equality.

In the shocked words of Kris Allen himself, after being announced the winner, “Adam deserves this.” And so does every gay American.

The tides continues to turn…

Protesting Protests

I stood behind the police barrier as the people walked past me. Hundreds became thousands. There was about 50 of us penned in the fences, but there was a countless mob of ethnic Christians all around. Their brown faces twisted with hate and disgust. They were armed with megaphones and Biblias. Most of their ramblings were in a foreign language, but it was clearly translated into one word – “homophobia”.

Why was I inspired to go to this anti-gay marriage protest that was sponsored by Radio Vision Cristiana International and the Hispanic Clergy Organization? Because I wanted the haters to put faces to the people they are discriminating against. You can’t bring bus-loads full of people, who speak English as a second language, into the gay island of Manhattan to protest without hearing from us. I wanted to represent.

Since we were dealing with very religious activists, I wanted to bring a symbol with me that they would recognize. I brought a bright, yellow crucifix with a wooden heart attached to the middle, where Jesus usually hangs. It was given to me by a developmentally disabled student of mine years ago. To me, it means unconditional love. It means that everyone is equal in the eyes of love, no matter your religious beliefs. I stood silently, with my cross at my chest, and made sure to look everyone in the eye as they went past. The site of a faggot holding a cross drove them insane.

“God bless you”, said one lady without looking me in the eye.

“God bless you”, said an old man as he walked by with his eyes closed.

“It’s not about hate, it’s about love. Jesus LOVES you.” An angry teenager told us this, but her tone was full of anger. I thought perhaps it was due to her age, then a lady in her 40’s walked past and sneered, “God bless you”.  This happened too many times to count. The looks of confusion on the children’s faces was heartbreaking.

As the parade of hostile churchgoers continued, I noticed that the script they were saying said, “Jesus loves you” or “God bless you”, but the subtext in their hearts was “Fuck you fag” or “You’re sick, jerk”. What they were saying clearly did not match what they were feeling. Every time a Bible was shoved in my face, I couldn’t help but hear the real Jesus say, “Please don’t do that. Please don’t use my name in hate.” I can’t think of anything more sick than the sanctimonious actions of every mother who walked by carrying their daughter in their arms or pushing their son in a stroller while using Jesus as a tool of hate. Completely disgusting people.

Whenever minorities speak out against gay marriage, it really pushes my “fuck off” button. They know similar struggles, they are supposed to “get it”. Homophobia runs deep in religion and misunderstanding. It’s clear that blacks, or latinos in this case, are born “that way”, but gay people have to prove over and over again, that we are based in genetics too. Until everyone understands that, nothing will truly change.

On the upside, I got to meet Lt. Dan Choi (click his name to see his video on The Rachel Maddow Show), who was part of the under-attended counterprotest. He has become the current face of the ‘Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’ policy. He is also originally from Orange County, Ca. and he told me about how his dad refuses to talk to him since he came out of the closet. We chatted for about 5 minutes. He is such a great guy.

After an hour of barfable latinos yelling at me, I went to get drunk on sangria at brunch with a bunch of gays. I have made a slide show full of the gross people I encountered while at the protest. Enjoy!

Amazing example of douchebaggery!

The guy who does this blog is fucking brilliant. It’s called Blogger Interrupted and I highly suggest you look at his videos. He goes to highly conservative and hostile protests and exposes them for the poo-poo heads they have become.

Two States Get Gay Marriage In One Week!

Iowa and Vermont just took California out back behind the schoolyard and pushed him in the mud. California has until June 3rd to deliver it’s ruling on Prop 8. In the meantime, two states have ruled that gay marriage is legal. Hey California! Don’t look like a douchebag! 

Even Washington DC is getting in on the action by recognizing same sex marriage. So, if you get married in another state, then you have all the rights in Washington DC. Hollerrrrr.

Levi Johnston on Tyra Banks

I can’t think of two more ridiculous, boring, dumb people to be on camera together. I was glued to the TV.

Chicken Nugget Emergency

“Latreasa Davis, of Fort Pierce, Florida, ordered a 10-piece Chicken McNuggets from McDonald’s, and after she paid for her order, she was informed they were out of Chicken McNuggets. Latreasa Davis only wanted her 10-piece Chicken McNuggets and not anything else off the menu – as she was offered. She called 911 from McDonald’s 3 times to report the incident. Each time she called 911, she explained to the 911 dispatcher what had happened. Latreasa Davis was told the first time she called 911 that an officer was coming out to speak to her. Police did arrive, but instead of helping her get her McNuggets, they arrested her for misusing 911.” – Associated Press

“25 Things That Make Me Barf”

In order to fight the Facebook virus, I made this in hopes of spreading mockery.

The rules are simple. Once you’ve been tagged (or whatever), you have to make a list of “25 Things That Make Me Barf”. If you don’t, Facebook will kill you.

1. Barf

2. Tequila

3. Vaginas

4. Cat shit

5. Granny panties

6. That summertime, homeless, black person smell in the subway

7.Girls named Andrea correcting you and saying, “It’s pronounced Ahhhndrayuhhh”

8. Proposition 8

9. Phlegm tacos

10. Booger burgers

11. When a therapist says, “So what I hear you saying is…”

12. Sitting in middle seats on an airplane.

13. Gin

14. Gin tacos

15. Barf tacos

16. That “Oops I Fell In Love With My Best Friend” feeling

17. My finger

18. A cheerleader’s toothbrush

19. Getting 5 shots of novacaine shot directly into the base of my dick shaft

20. Sports talk

21. “Are you still trying that acting thing?”

22. George W. Bush

23. Mormons

24. Mormon tacos

25. OCD-inducing lists on Facebook

Facebook’s “25 Things About Me”

Overnight, everyone in the universe posted “25 Things About Me” on their Facebook pages. It’s out of control. I tried to resist the OCD-like temptation of doing the list, but with several hours at a desk at work, I caved in. I wanted to post them here too.

25 THINGS ABOUT ME

1. There are 14 puppets looking at me right now.

2. I named one of the puppets Phyllis.

3. My boss is talking about yoga from behind a cubicle. I keep saying “oh yeah”, “really”, “thats cool”…

4. I am joining the Greenpoint YMCA this Sunday in effort to start one of my New Year’s Resolutions… on February 1st. January is so cliche. I want to look like Brad Pitt in ‘Fight Club’.

5. My neck hurts.

6. I have to poop, but I’m afraid the Afternoon Pee Bandit may have already been in there and I don’t want to wipe up the pee on the toilet seat.

7. I firmly believe that ‘Yo Gabba Gabba’ is the best show on television.

8. I wonder how this exercise is different than just doing status message updates.

9. When my baby brother was brought home from the hospital, I bit him on the arm. My mom asked me, “Why did you do that?” I answered, “Because I wanted to see if he was real”.

10. I’m dying to go to Coachella this year, but I live far away. The Killers AND Amy Winehouse at the same show? I would die.

11. About five years ago, I made a hand written will in one of my journals. I wanted to make sure my Patsy Cline CD and Jake Gyllenhaal magnet collection fell into the right hands.

12. Most of my job experience is in special education, but I sit at a computer all day and answer phones and stare out the window and wish there was something else somewhere else.

13. Twizzlers make me fart.

14. I pooped my pants on the soccer field when I was 10. Even though my dad kept yelling, “GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME, MARX” from the sidelines, I couldn’t help but constantly think of the turd in my shorts. At halftime, I tried to go to the restroom to clean up, but they were locked. Instead, I found a nice, pink house in the nearby cul-de-sac and asked the old lady if I could use her facilities. I left my poopy underwear in her wicker trash can.

15. I was a phone sex operator for three days. It was insane.

16. I’m planning a surprise party for my birthday.

17. I cannot live without Tabasco sauce.

18. The most rewarding experience I’ve ever had was volunteering at Re-Creation Summer Camp for 15 years. It’s a camp for adults with developmental disabilities. The unconditional love from the friends I’ve made there have made me so happy and I hope I have done the same in return.

19. The second most painful experience in my life was when the director of the summer camp tried to fire me for, literally, no reason. If there was a reason, it was mean-spirited and ill-communicated. I’m still trying to figure out the art of forgiveness on that one.

20. I think 25 things is a lot of things. I hate myself for caving in and making this list.

21. I was a candy raver in the deserts of California.

22. I am in love with my beard.

23. I believe in things like “there is good in everyone”, “love at first sight”, and “everything happens for a reason”.

24. Crazy people make me crazy.

25. My blog can always be found at www.marxthespot.wordpress.com

Hugs

Billions of people are gathered in Washington D.C. today to witness the inauguration of our new President, Mr. Barack Obama. Everyone in my office is next door watching it in a huge auditorium. Youtube will be my source at my leisure. I am stealing these moments of solitude to reflect on myself.

I am completely aware that statement makes me sound like a homosexual.

I’m am not a huggy person. Touchy-feelyness makes me squirm. Last Thursday, my friend Sandra was at the bus stop. It was the last day I would be riding that bus at that time, so I thought I would say my goodbyes. At the end of our conversation, I said, “Well it was nice riding the bus with you. I might not see you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see each other someday”, she pointed up to the sky, wiped her runny nose, and gave me a big hug.

She released her loving grip and dashed to the front of the bus line, cutting in front of a few people. I put my headphones back in my ears and turned on whatever. My intention was to try to think of something that wasn’t going to make me cry. The beautiful moment Sandra had given me was overwhelming. I didn’t cry, but my eyes were wet during the rest of my commute.

So, I’ve been thinking. I’m going to start hugging. I’m going to let people hug me and I am going to go out on a limb and actually hug other people – not everyone everyone. I mean, I’m not going to hug strangers or people I don’t like or that kid in the subway who tried to spit on my leg.

Along with Obama’s Presidential Inauguration, I hereby declare my own Huggidential Inauguration.

I, Jeffrey Roma Marx, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute hugs…

If you stare at these hugging bears for awhile, it gets pretty creepy.

The Prop 8 protest in NYC was super cruisey

Protesting Prop 8 is the new way to pick up guys. That’s what last night’s Prop 8 protest at the Mormon temple told me. Everyone made colorful signs and dressed in winter scarves with matching caps to meet outside in the cold air. As the group of an estimated 10,000 supporters of gay marriage marched down Broadway, passed Lincoln Center, and ended up in Columbus Circle we all huddled together tightly for warmth… and to touch butts on “accident”. We all chanted silly things that rhymed while everyone checked each other out. If you can’t flirt AND stand up for equal rights at the same time, then what kind of gay are you?

The organizers of the event told everyone online what type of signs to make. They warned to stay away from the polygamy argument, the warned to stay away from attacking religion, they warned to keep the message positive in order to unite and “take the higher road”. Originally, I was gonna make a sign that was very Latter Day Saints specific – “L.ITTLE D.UMB S.HITS” So, in an ironic twist on words in the Bible and the Book of Mormon, I made a double sided sign quietly mocking religious opponents of gay marriage.

For those religiously unaware, “Jesus wept” is the shortest verse in The Bible. I think Jesus would weep about the current state that this civil rights cause has reached. Plus, I always like using The Bible against Biblebeaters. Lord knows, I have a ton of knowledge on the subject since I went to Christian and Catholic Schools for most of my life. Clinging to stories from the past and not bothering to think for yourself certainly seems strange to me. Not nearly as strange as The Book of Mormon who was written by the “prophet” Joseph Smith. This guy took some shrooms and tripped out in a forest and wrote down everything that Jesus “told him”. The phrase “And it came to pass…” starts thousands of “verses” from the Book of Mormon (“And it came to pass this“ “And it came to pass that”), so naturally, I wanted to take a jab at them while trumpeting the message of gay marriage.

After we gathered at the entrance to Central Park, everyone sort of stood around and check out each other’s signs. I wish someone was there to give out prizes for best signs. I think I could have been a serious contender. My favorite was either the black lesbian that said “Should we sit on the back of the bus too?” or one young, hot gay that said “I didn’t ask him to “civil union” me!” We had brought noise makers to shake while we marched in the streets so we stood around and shook them.

My gaggle of gays and I got hungry, so we walked down 9th Avenue, the gayest street in Gayville, and ate at Vinyl, the gayest restaurant in Gayville. I didn’t want my sign anymore, so I discarded it on a pile of cardboard underneath an Ipod Nano ad. GAY! I would’ve felt bad for leaving it there, but the protest was a little underwhelming in energy. It’s great that there were 10,000 people there, and I LOVE IT, but I couldn’t help but think that there is much more passion in California over this right now.

On the way to the train, we stumbled on a liquor store that still had a Hillary for President sign in the window. Wow. How steadfast.

I’m going to go look at the Missed Connections on Craigslist now to see if anyone from the protest wants to hook up with me.

Oh and here’s one last shot that I love from the protest. It’s a keeper!

Prop 8 Donations Are Public Record!!!

Today, I stumbled upon a website that lists the donors of both sides of the Prop 8 campaign. I hope these people google their name someday and find my blog.

BAD GUY LIST

Brett Stohlton of Newport Beach, CA donated $2,000 in support of Yes on Prop 8. Brett is a dork.

Steve Keithly of La Mirada, CA donated $3,000. He works at Whittier Mailing Products and fucks cows.

La Dorna Eichenberg of Newport Beach, CA donated $10,000. She works for Ellison Educational and she eats her own poop.

Alan Anderson of Laguna Beach, CA donated $30,000 to take gay’s rights away. He is employed by South Coast Healthcare Management and kills babies.

Robert Hurtt Jr. of Garden Grove, CA gave $250,000 to give to a campaign that singled out one type of person and took their rights away. Robert Hurrt Jr. cannot get an erection.

GOOD GUYS

Jeff Cook is a student at Cal State Fullerton. He was able to give $100 dollars to No on Prop 8.

Kevin Rowe is a student at UC Berkeley and he gave $100 in support of gay marriage.

Gordon Babst goes to Chapman University. He was able to spare $100 to support equal rights.

Something is seriously wrong with this picture. Why is it that people who have more money get to say what’s right. Why do they have a louder voice? For every stupidface like Robert Hurrt Jr., you have to find 2,500 poor students who are willing to donate for equality. It makes me very, very sad.

President Obama!!!

The good guys won! Finally, a happy example of how sometimes, if you wish hard enough, great things can happen. We started off with martinis and mozzerella sticks at Faces & Names in midtown. Once Ohio was declared for Obama, the bar went nuts. We took a walk over to Election Plaza at 30 Rock. It looked pretty boring. Everyone just stood around. We thought perhaps it was just a bunch of visiting foreigners feigning interest, so we marched over to Times Square. It was crowded and the energy had flatlined. Obama hadn’t been announced as the official victor yet and I wanted something crazy to happen.

We went back to my friend’s hotel room to watch the results come in. When we entered the lobby, the news was announced that Obama had won. Instantly, the lobby of the hotel was flooded with happy black people. They all had matching Obama stickers and were coming from the bar where they were hosting a private event. It was amazing to be one of seven white, gay boys in a sea of blackness. The security guard was high-fiving everyone in sight. My group of homos promptly went upstairs and continued the celebratory drinkfest…. until we heard about Prop 8 passing in California. You can’t win them all!

I love that America can elect a black President, but still won’t let gays get married. I’m gonna consider this a win for the night because otherwise I will go insane. Time to let politics rest for a little while…

GObama!!

Obama Nailed it!!!

Barack Obama made me cry. My face is still wet and there is snot on my sleeve. I am a strong person, sometimes to the extent of bitchyness, rudeness, and excessive punishment of those who I feel have wronged me. I have big issues surrounding the idea of ‘what is fair?‘ If a stranger cuts in front of me in line at the grocery store, my first reaction is to stab him in the face. For the last 8 years, “president” W. has been cutting the line in front of America. There is a tidal wave of emotions that come from within me when challenged in regards to fairness. I’ve got daddy issues. Sue me.

Tonight, the future President Obama put some things in perspective for me. He is a genuinely amazing individual and someone who wants to do some real good in this nation. He says things that I say, but in a mild, warm, and calm tone. He wants change and he knows how to go about actually changing something. You know how on MySpace there is a section to write down who your hero is? Well, I never really had one. I always put down some sort of joke (Laugh and laugh and fall apart). There is a spirit and an energy from Obama that makes me think he might be able to become the answer for the question “Who is your hero?”

I feel proud to have donated 60 bucks to his campaign. I’d like to say “it’s all I could afford”, but the truth is, I couldn’t even afford that! The 30 minute ad that aired tonight on several TV stations was well worth all the money that was raised for his campaign. You have to use the system to beat the system. Tonight, Barack Obama sealed the deal. He didn’t waste time slandering McCain. He spoke to me. He spoke to us. He just turned all my negativity about this election into a beacon of positivity. I am going to try very hard to keep this feeling of brightness and live it every day. I’m guessing I won’t be able to do that on a consistant basis. Barack Obama makes me want to be a better person.

This is the part were I usually would say something hilarious and undercutting, something that would end a brilliantly funny blog entry – but I don’t have anything funny to say. I just want next Tuesday to come and go and for America to start on a healthy track to healing and togetherness. I feel a lot of love in my heart at this exact moment.

GObama!

Another example of why I am glad to be gay…

I went to a friend’s birthday dinner this weekend. One side of the table was hot, black gay guys. The other side of the table was hot, white straight chicks. I was there to bridge the two groups together seeing as how I am a hot, white gay guy. Everyone got along really well. The guys and I talked about music. The girls and I gossiped about ‘The Hills’. Nothing bonds bratty girls and catty gays quicker than talking about reality TV. The ladies confessed that they love watching “lame girls make fools of themselves on national TV”. We all agreed Audrina had turned into a “dumb girl” and that Heidi was a “total idiot”.

When the check came, my end of the table decided to each pay for our own meal, tax, tip and an additional 3 bucks for the birthday boy’s meal. I became team captain of the bill and gave everyone change as the bill made it’s way around the table. When the bill arrived at the blonde section of the table, they each gave me a twenty and then asked for a ten in return.

“Wait. What did you get again?”

“My entree was 9 bucks and I gave you ten.”

“Oh. Well, OK, So why don’t you give me two more bucks so that you are covered with tax and tip for yourself, then I need another 3 bucks to chip in for the birthday boy.”

Every single one of those bitches suddenly went deaf. They started talking amongst themselves and posing for pictures they were taking with each other’s digital cameras. I gave them the benefit of the doubt that they didn’t hear me, since I was sitting at the other end of the long table. I decided to repeat myself, only this time, I would say it embarrassingly loud.

“HEY AUDRINA! I NEED MORE MONEY FROM YOU GIRLS DOWN THERE!”

“What?”

“You didn’t pay enough for yourself, let alone pitching in for the birthday boy! Wanna throw me some cash?”

“My name isn’t Audrina.”

“My name isn’t Daddy Warbucks.”

The bitches ignored me again. Our reality TV bond was officially over. My end of the table was laughing at them… and with me for actually calling them out. One guest near me said that he couldn’t believe they were being such cheapskates. This was a situation where most people would awkwardly put in more money and not say anything to the evil doers. Well, my end of the table ended up awkwardly putting in more money to cover their blonde assholes, but I ended up saying way more than their sun-kissed highlights bargained for. Out side on the sidewalk, our dinner group split into two – white chicks in one circle, the rest circled in a group next to them.

The birthday boy asked, “Are you ladies going bowling with us?”

“No, we’re going to a bar in SoHo.”

“I hope there are lots of boys there to buy you drinks!” I smiled and waved. They did not wave back.

Everyone said ‘goodbye’ to each other, some hugs were exchanged. I stood to the side waiting for it all to be over. I knew I wouldn’t see many of these people ever again, especially these broke-ass vaginas. Our group walked away from the girls and one of them tried to be all sassy and holler “Goodnight, Jeff! We’ll miss you!”.

I smiled and waved again wishing each one of them a goodnight.

“Goodnight, Audrina! Goodnight Heidi! Have fun tonight with Audrina and Heidi, Heidi!”

I could see the steam escaping through their ears. Fuck you, cheap bitches. Fuck you. Thank God I don’t have to put up with your bullshit to get my dick wet.