I’m retiring this blog and this job. I’ve accepted a position with another company and I’m here only until the end of the week. Giving a two-week notice is for pushovers.

I realize that it’s a sad day for Fake Jews everywhere. I didn’t even get to sit in on a Seder dinner. I’ve still got a yarmulke, though, so let me know if you need me to fill in.

I was going to do a FAQ here, but I’m too lazy. Plus, the main questions I get are these:

Q: Are you an anti-Semite?
A: Yawn.

Q: What’s your name?
A:

Q: Where do you work?
A:

Q: Why are you such a self-promoting asshole?
A:

Q: Can I give you a blow job in the back of a cab?
A: Totally.

Anyway, it was fun. I learned a lot. I’m still writing the novel [would like to write non-fiction but would hate to get sued for slander] and getting down to the roots of the whole “Jewish as a religion or an ethnicity” argument. My methods are, of course, dubious, but pretty interesting if you’re into that stuff. And if you are into that stuff, sign up for updates on the green box to the right. Email me if you want. That means you, Emily Gould at Gawker. Last I checked you were going to let me feel you up. Max at the Post: You can out me at some point.

In my next incarnation I’ll be a failed Jewish editor who somehow scored a high-paying job at an advertising agency by lying about his experience and giving false references. Or maybe this is me. You never know with these things. Stay tuned.

Apprarently BaconJew is feeling quite rebellious due to his bacon-eating habits. He has honed in on this unique quality of his and turned it into a self-promotional marketing campaign.

Given that it’s the Chinese Year of the Pig, BaconJew has started branding himself the year’s official mascot. He has bought a pig-laden watch and several pieces of pig apparel – some of which I suspect he created from iron-on transfers. Everything he writes, he dates as such: "March 20th, Year of the Pig". I think he’s somehow managed to add the following image to all of his email signatures:



Last, but certainly not least, when someone calls his cell phone, it oinks.

OrthoJew, quite frankly, is sickened by the whole thing.

I am sickened by the fact that I just heard the Publisher’s Wife telling someone she was cute.

In context: “Well, it doesn’t matter; I’m a lot cuter than [male’s name].” As a very heterosexual male, I can’t name a single guy that she is “cuter” than.

I will be out of town with very limited access to this high maintenance blog today, March 19th. If you have questions regarding the Manwhore or any other of my various areas of expertise, please feel free to email me here.

New scheme alert!

The Publisher's Wife is already planning her annoying daughters' bat mitzvahs. They're probably eight or nine years old, so she's way too ahead of the game (read: has nothing better to do). She has the date and the place already booked. I overheard her talking to her friend on the phone about it today and she suggested they take a week off to go food and wine tasting for it. Brilliant!

I'm going to do the same thing but instead of a bat mitzvah, I'm going to say I'm planning my wedding. I just don't look old enough to have a 13-year old. Anyway, I plan to eat for free at every single event hall in Manhattan. Considering I don't plan on staying here too much longer, the food should hold me over until I find another job.

Reluctantly I admit: The Publisher's Wife is a genius.

Updates:

OrthoJew
A while back our very own strict religionist mentioned how she thought that humans should fulfill their exercise regimens by hunting and gathering. Now she has confessed that while she’s still not willing to buy a gym membership, she is working out daily to the exercise channel. “How do you get your cardio?” “I do Tae Bo with Billy Blanks.”

The associated imagery is painful.

BaconJew…
…has been very depressed lately. Reason being, he came up with his best invention yet, only to realize that it has already been invented. He was really tired at work one day and had this idea to have places where you can go and sleep during your lunch break. They would be cleaned after each use and you could buy a yearly membership, guaranteeing you, the customer, a quick nap whenever you need to recharge. The Silent Designer, who spent some time in Korea, informed him that they had those over there. OrthoJew added that there is such a place in the Empire State Building as well. They’re called “Sleeping Pods.”

The SmellyDesigner
Speaking of inventions, one of the SmellyDesigner's friends came up with a new product: Can' A Bliss. It's weed-scented fragrance spray. Because, you know, why wouldn't you want to smell like weed? Duh.

In other smelly news, the Silent Designer reported that the Smelly one rolled her chair over to his desk the other day to ask him a question. Upon taking a wiff of her musky aura, the Silent Designer claims to having almost puked on the spot. “What are you, some kind of hippy?” He asked her. Not bashful at all, she told him that marketers have conned Americans into thinking that they need deodorant when, really, the body eliminates the smell naturally if you give it the chance. “Your body hasn’t eliminated any smell.” He responded. Smelly and OrthoJew should really compare notes/philosophies.

The Publisher’s Wife…
…is getting sued by the Account Executive she fired last year. Despite being dismissed for no good reason, the ex-sales girl is claiming that the Publisher’s Wife put her in physical harm.

The Publisher…
…is getting sued by a slew of freelancers who haven’t been paid

I…
…am looking for a new job.

The new trend for spring, at least in this office, is conferences.

I have successfully finagled my way into a conference every week for the past few weeks. Of course, when you work where I work there are both pros and cons to attending these things.

Pros:

-Conference = Day off. I usually stay just long enough to give a 2-minute report to the Publisher. Then I leave.
-Free food
-If you’re lucky, free drinks
-Free bag of stuff (i.e. proof that you were there—make sure to bring it in the next day for the boss to see)
-Business chicks (They're aggressive and well put together)

Cons:

-My name tag says the name of my company.
-No one really has any need to “network” with the guy from the Jewish mag (i.e. “Where are you from? Oh, excuse me, I have to go say hi to someone over there”)
-Speakers covering obvious material you already know so as to appeal to an audience of varied experience
-Free bag of stuff (Guys shouldn’t carry around tote bags)
-Business Chicks (They're annoying and in-your-face)

Yesterday, I stayed until about 12:00 at which point I ran into the Paper Guy. He was there trying to swindle business, but wasn't having much luck. Evidently that’s what people do at these things--try to get business. Hmm. My timing was impeccable: He needed a drink. I needed a drink, and so we were off. After a gin on the rocks, I ended up calling the ex and saying some really polished, polite and educated things. All in a day’s work, I guess.

I took the subway home and got off on the wrong stop. I ran back on only to get laughed at by two Asian chicks. Wait...

By 2:00 I was sitting comfortably on my couch wondering why there’s nothing on TV during the day. Anything is better than being here though.

That said; if there are any conferences that you think I should be at, please let me know. I imagine I’ll agree with you.

In Which the Manwhore Becomes a Caricature of Himself
The following is a mass email the Manwhore sent to all of his friends to discuss a bachelor party he attended. In lieu of flat out bragging that he was, indeed, at a bachelor party this weekend, he disguised his glee as a set of "tips" for us should we ever be invited to one. Gee thanks, Manwhore.

The Manwhore's letter (the recipients of which were not blind copied), was appropriately followed by another of our friends who wanted to "thank" us all for being there for him the last few months as he was studying for the GMAT. "Thank you for your support, which allowed me to get the following scores [attached]." Bastards--both of them.

All,

I flew to Chicago for the weekend. One of my buddies is getting married and he had his Bachelor party out there. It was the first, though I am sure not the last Bachelor party I will be at. I learned a lot of key lessons about what to do or not do:

1). Don’t let the Bachelor keep his cell phone (no matter what he says).
[Translation: "He's going to try to call his woman. Hello, Bros before Hoes! That's why it's called a bachelor party! Woo!]

2). Have 1 person on Bachelor duty at all times or else you run the risk of not seeing him fall down stairs and off of cars (both times onto pavement).
[Translation: "We got sooo drunk, bra..."]

3). Don’t bring TOO much money.
[Translation: "These people clearly don't roll how I roll."]

Note: The Manwhore's a personal trainer; does not roll how he rolls either.

4). Have your Bachelor party in Vegas or Paris or something. Not in your home town. At your buddies house. It depresses everyone. Or, at least, depressed me.
[Translation: "There were no strippers. The groom is Mormon. Clearly not an expert partier like myself."]

5). Don’t try to take the Bachelor out afterwards. Especially if he is bleeding from more than one part of his face.
[Translation: "Dudes just can't hang with me. I tend to punch people when I'm drunk."]

-Manwhore

Please note that the Manwhore capitalizes "Bachelor" as if he's talking about "God." Perhaps this is because Bachelorhood is the Manwhore's religion? Amen.