I Rejected a Job Offer Because of The Kardashians and You’re To Blame

I moved to another city to seek and find what the former city couldn’t provide. It’s daunting to make that move and after three weeks of no income rolling in — I was officially in panic mode.

I needed a writing gig as soon as possible especially since the one I had relied on for the past couple of years — released me because despite being the best freelancer they ever and will ever have — they weren’t happy that my recent pieces weren’t viral sensations.

That brings me to why I was left with no other option but to bow out of a possible job opportunity with a well-known online publication. I was going to be the weekend editor, which would’ve been the perfect compliment to my newly acquired project based editorial position at a tech company. I was psyched. Finally after months of aimlessness — things were looking up.

There only one catch. I discovered very quickly that The Kardashians were the focal part of this online magazine and so if I was going to thrive in my new environment — I had no choice but to develop a healthy palette for anything pertaining to Kim, Kourtney, Khloe, Kendall, Kylie and of course the woman I fondly refer to as the “worst mother in the universe” — Kris.

And as if that weren’t hard enough to reconcile — the former man of the house — Bruce Jenner who is now Caitlyn Jenner has become unbearably famous ever since her high-profile transformation — so I would also have to become mildly obsessed with how effortlessly she has managed to shift from brooding Bruce to Caitlyn — fashion diva in the making.

God help me? How the fuck can anyone digest all that shit and remain sane? Only a blogger under the age of twenty-one with a stomach the size of a horse and the brain the size of a pea can enthusiastically sign up for that form of punishment.

But, when you’re trying to dig yourself out of debt while also securing three meals a day, you find yourself remarkably open-minded and tolerant. I was determined to play the role of “Valley Girl” who is into all the things that make the real me cringe with utter disdain.

I tried watching a couple of episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians but the only thing I could recall was the scene in A Clockwork Orange — where Malcolm McDowell’s Alex is screaming and writhing in agony as he is forced to watch acts of brutality that he has been programmed to reject.


It was hard to endure seeing these people drowning in their unmerited status and wealth — performing for the cameras on cue and thrashing about on the heights of the validity that people like you — reading this, afforded them.

I don’t blame them for forcing me to walk away from an opportunity that would’ve made a substantial difference in my bank account — I blame you.

You gave these lowlifes the power to dominate every corner of every reputable publication. People magazine, US Weekly, even fucking Time Magazine can’t let a single day pass by without at least one mention of The Kardashian/Jenner Klan.

It’s a drug that has to be administered without fail because if we miss a dose — we are sure to flatline.

There is no escape. And even though I am quite certain that I could swallow my vomit long enough to join the festivities of shit and worship at the shrine of what Glamour magazine called “America’s Royal Family” — I am scared shitless of ending up brain dead.

So, I had to reject the job offer and resume the search for a writing gig that will mercifully not require me to remember that The Kardashian’s exist or that Caitlyn Jenner looks way better in a wrap dress than those of us who were actually born to wear them.

Anyway, as luck would have it, things eventually worked in my favor — so no hard feelings — just major concern for the media at large,

We’ve become ravenous monsters that need the constant bullshit to keep us healthy and fit. If you don’t have at least 250K followers — you are not a complete person.

And if you don’t know every member of the family that became relevant based on Kim’s sexual prowess — you may get the boot. Just ask Nicolle Wallace.

So, yeah. I don’t blame The Kardashians. I blame you.

Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say!