The J*b Application"
(By Kade, Professional Job Seeker, Unpaid Comedian, and CEO of Emotional Damage)
The Application Portal from Hell
Let's talk about job applications.
You know, those delightful online portals designed by Satan and coded by interns who hate joy.
Every time I try to apply for a job, it feels less like "employment" and more like a ritual sacrifice.
They always start with something innocent:
"Please upload your resume."
Cool. Done. Easy.
Then—
"Please manually re-enter everything from your resume."
Excuse me, what?
Why am I typing my entire life again? You already have the PDF!
They want the same information in 12 different boxes.
Name. Address. Phone. Experience. Blood type. DNA sample. Favorite pizza topping.
By the end, I'm convinced I just donated my identity to the Illuminati.
And the "experience" section?
"List your previous jobs in chronological order."
I'm 23. I've had two jobs and three mental breakdowns.
Do you want the emotional experience too? Because I can tell you about the time I almost cried in front of Microsoft Word.
Then they ask for a "cover letter."
Ah yes, the greatest scam of modern employment.
A beautifully written piece of fiction where you must passionately lie about loving their company.
"Dear Hiring Manager, I have always dreamed of working for Excel Spreadsheet Corp, because I too believe in the transformative power of pivot tables."
No, you haven't. Nobody has. You're just trying to pay rent.
And when you finally click Submit…
"Your application has been received. We'll get back to you soon."
LIES.
That's not a confirmation. That's a digital ghosting message.
They're never getting back to you. You'll die before you see that "follow-up" email.
Applying for jobs is basically sending love letters to corporations and never getting a reply.
At this point, I don't even apply for jobs to get hired — I do it for cardio.
*****
Resume Writing: The Art of Glorified Lying
Let's talk about resumes.
A.K.A. "The Document of Deception."
This one piece of paper determines whether you're a genius or a disappointment. And guess what? You have to make yourself sound like both.
You can't just say,
"Worked as a cashier."
No. You must write,
"Handled complex financial transactions and maintained multi-level customer relationship operations in a high-paced retail environment."
Brother, you gave change. Calm down.
Every job seeker turns into Shakespeare when writing resumes.
We all sound like we've led armies and negotiated world peace, when in reality, we're just trying not to get fired for breathing too loud near the coffee machine.
And then there's that one section — "Skills."
You know what I'm talking about.
Everyone lies here. Don't deny it.
"Proficient in Excel."
No, you're not. You know how to color the cells and drag formulas. That's it.
"Excellent communication skills."
Translation: I can text fast.
"Leadership experience."
You once told a friend to bring the drinks.
"Team player."
You silently suffer while your groupmates ruin your grade.
Every time I see a resume, I realize we're all just actors auditioning for survival.
And don't even get me started on ATS bots.
Those demonic resume scanners that decide your fate before a human even reads it.
If your resume doesn't include the right keywords, it's over.
You could have cured cancer, but if you didn't say "collaborative problem-solving synergy," you're unemployed.
Modern resumes aren't written for people — they're written for robots.
So yes, I have no job because R2-D2 didn't like my font.
****
The Interview: A Performance of Fear and Fiction
Ah, the job interview.
The modern-day gladiator arena — except instead of lions, you face a panel of smiling assassins with clipboards.
You walk in dressed like your own lawyer.
You've practiced your answers. You've sprayed so much cologne that the ozone layer is crying.
"Tell me about yourself."
Every job seeker's worst nightmare.
Because how do you summarize twenty-something years of suffering in one paragraph without sounding unstable?
"Uh… I'm a hardworking, passionate individual who loves challenges and teamwork."
No, you're not. You're tired. You love naps. You just need health insurance.
Then they hit you with:
"What's your greatest weakness?"
How do I say 'this question' without getting disqualified?
We all lie here too.
"Sometimes I care too much."
"I'm a perfectionist."
Bro. You cried because your printer jammed.
And then the eye contact game starts.
Too little? You look shady.
Too much? You look psychotic.
So now you're staring at their forehead like it's the meaning of life.
The best part? When they say,
"We'll be in touch."
They won't.
They're going to hire the boss's cousin named Brad who thinks Excel is a protein shake.
By the time you leave, your confidence is gone, your tie is crooked, and you've convinced yourself maybe you were destined to be a full-time YouTuber after all.
******
Corporate Gaslighting 101
Let's say, somehow, you actually get hired.
You've beaten the bots, the interviews, the competition, congratulations!
You've now entered Corporate Hunger Games.
They'll say,
"We're like a family here."
Oh really? Then why is everyone scared of the manager?
Why does Susan cry in the bathroom every Tuesday?
Then they'll say,
"We value mental health."
Meanwhile, you're getting emails at 11:59 PM labeled 'URGENT.'
And don't forget the unpaid "team-building" events.
Nothing screams bonding like being forced to play tug-of-war with your boss while pretending you enjoy it.
Then the promotions start disappearing faster than your will to live.
You'll watch new interns get treated like the second coming of Einstein while you're still waiting for that "salary review" from 2019.
Corporate jobs are basically the adult version of group projects:
One person does everything, one takes credit, one disappears, and one keeps saying, "Let's circle back."
And the worst part?
They'll gaslight you into thinking you're the problem.
"We just need you to take more initiative."
Bro, I've taken initiative,responsibility, and three antidepressants. What more do you want?
Then they'll host those motivational workshops.
You know the ones.
A bald man with too much energy says,
"Failure is just success in disguise!"
Sir, I'm broke, not in disguise.
******
Why I'm Starting a Cult (I Mean, a YouTube Channel)
After all the resumes, the interviews, the soul-draining 9-to-5 cycle… I realized something:
Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe the system is broken.
Modern jobs don't want workers — they want obedient souls who can smile through the suffering.
You're not "joining the company." You're selling your time to the highest bidder.
And if you die, they'll replace you before your funeral's over.
So I quit.
I didn't submit a resignation letter. I submitted a YouTube channel.
Because let's be honest — why spend years begging for a job when I can scream on the internet and get paid for it?
People say,
"Kade, that's risky!"
And i say, so is living.
At least now, when I fail, it's funny. When I succeed, it's hilarious.
And when I rant about job applications ruining my sanity — that's content.
I'm not anti-job. I'm anti-nonsense.
I believe in ambition, not submission.
The modern job market is like Tinder.
You match, you talk, they ghost you.
You think it's love; turns out they just wanted "someone with five years' experience in entry-level positions."
So to my unemployed comrades:
You are not lazy. You are just allergic to corporate stupidity.
Keep applying, keep lying on resumes, keep fighting the good fight.
And remember — if no one hires you, make your own empire.
Even if it's just ranting on camera with your hair half-done and your sanity gone.
Because if the modern job market taught me one thing…
It's that rejection is just redirection to something funnier.
END OF VIDEO