I'm not your bitch, don't hang your shit on me.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Slut-ebrity

There seems to be an awakening of attention-hungry whores who will do anything to get their name in the media. Show up at parties and premieres that aren’t about you, produce a line of product no one wants, make a sex tape with an ex and "unknowingly" have it leaked it on the Internet.

I’m talking to you, Paris Hilton.

The desire of wanting to see your name in print is the only thing these people live for. Without the media, there is no one to talk about them. Their existence is futile.

So, what happens when you’re not an attention-hungry whore and the media talks about you?

Let me tell you…

Every morning is fairly regular in its schedule. There is little to deviate one day from another – at least for the first 30 minutes, or so.

I arrive at the office, take off my coat, turn on my computer, run to the kitchen to drop off my lunch (yes, I bring my lunch and it makes everyone crazy jealous that I don’t have to eat a measly salad or crusty sandwich), return to my already working computer, sit down and begin to go through the e-mails of the previous few hours.

This morning there is only one e-mail in my inbox.

And, it ain’t the one you want you want to open first thing on a Monday morning.

Is this you? are the only words in the e-mail.

The reference point is lost on me.

As I scroll down, I see a listing from our media monitoring services. Nothing special. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until I read the description of the summary, that is.

It seems I was quoted as being the representative for a multi-billion dollar, global organization for one of their new programs.

Sound bad? Wait, it gets worse.

This media summary not only quotes me as being the spokesperson, but it was sent to several heads in the corporate offices.

They all know who I am.

With my job, it is imperative that I am not the centre of attention – that would be my client. My paying client. When they see my name as a reference and not theirs, well, you can imagine their panties get all up their asses.

Thankfully, I don’t wear panties.

So, after the situation is clarified with me, my supervisors and the corporate offices, I’m regaled with little jokes on how “How is our little media celebrity doing, today?”

Just fine, thanks. Just fine.

And you can quote me on that.

2 Comments:

Blogger whatsthebuzz said...

THAT had to be a little uncomfortable for a while! It would be my luck though, to have my 15 minutes of fame, be 15 minutes of infamy.

November 22, 2005 2:05 am  
Anonymous newbie said...

You see? my man, can't keep the cream from rising to the top.

People who deserve to get some attention, sometimes find it in the odd places.

But, you're real. And she's, sigh, ahem, not.


You don't wear any "panties" at all? Or just not girl's?

:-)

sorry. you're fabulous. can't escape it.

November 22, 2005 10:57 pm  

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