Someone made the unfortunate mistake of giving me unfettered access to a list of our clients email addresses at work. And oh holy shit, if there’s ANYTHING in this world I love to judge, it’s email addresses….and headshots. My favorite headshot pose? Kneeling on a cobblestone street – “Lost in Charleston!” But I digress – at this gig, it’s just critiquing emails, and the getting is good!

I feel strongly that once a person reaches the age of 18, they have new powers (cigarettes! Porn!) but also great responsibilities which include ditching the ridiculous email address they first picked out for themselves in junior high. This means the end of and accepting (which I hope is still free because now I want it).
Why? Because if you expect to be taken seriously as an adult human being, you MUST lose the silly and childish e-handle. As I obviously cannot use our clients as direct examples, I can give you an idea of some of the absurd fucking monikers that grown ass women instruct me to contact them at:

….there was also one where the client misspelled her own name. That was clutch.

I wish I was exaggerating, but I’m not. And I’m as guilty of this as anyone. I had a very childish email when I was younger, but the minute I started sending resumes to potential employers I followed the advice of the Holy Bible, put away childish things and grew the fuck up – that’s verbatim, you can check it.

Post Script Fun Fact – This was written on the 4 train around midnight – I’m all kinds of sneaky! You never know where I’m going to be, laying down my judgements!