Help Wanted: Looking for a New Me on Facebook and Twitter

A digital makeover for an old school writer.

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By John Aloysius Farrell, Thomas Jefferson Street blog

Help Wanted

Facebook/Twitter Ghostwriter

Quick-thumbed texter needed to improve aging chairbound writer's dull Facebook status updates and Twitter tweets.

The former holder of this position has displayed dull wit and excess sentimentality; gone nowhere but the Safeway; scored badly in Facebook quizzes, and made sadly predictable, mundane choices when choosing favorite movies, sports heroes, music, cars, concerts, foods, and sports teams.

i.e. Raiders of the Lost Ark. Mickey Mantle. Van Morrison. Mustang convertibles. Bruce Springsteen. Pizza. The Red Sox, Caps and Nationals.

The successful applicant will have a rich and varied daily existence. He or she will travel widely to really cool places, eat exciting dishes at expensive restaurants, appreciate French films, restore and drive a 1969 Alfa Romeo, attend hit parties and know the meaning of "meme."

The new me will be regularly interviewed, and provide insightful analysis, on cable television, and correctly presume that someone cares to know when.

"I" will own an iPhone, a Kindle II, a 1.86 GHz MacBook Air, a vintage U2 iPod and a stainless steel Newport Scotty Cameron putter.

I will be on a first-name basis with Arianna, a regular with George on Sunday mornings, and a frequent guest on Jon. I will attend intimate off-the-record briefings by Rahm and Ax, and correctly pronounce Varlamov.

Bowden and Simon and Pelecanos will call me up for ideas. I will always strike the perfect note of elite populist outrage when providing political commentary.

Tiger will be my guest at the Gridiron, and Denis will share a smoke with me at the Vanity Fair party. I will stay at Shutters when visiting LA, and know the wines of Tuscany, and which Coen brother is which.

I will finally understand, and chuckle knowingly, at the bathtubs in the Cialis ads. My dog will be sweet and well-behaved and have good breath; my wife far too young for me. I will have a Clooneyesque thatch of silveresque hair, and none in my ears.

They will know me by name at Russia House and Ben's Chili Bowl. I will train for half-marathons, and break 80 on the Blue course at Congressional, and be equally beloved in the tap room and the caddy yard.

I will be, virtually, flaw free.

Salary: insufficient and non-negotiable. This is the Internet, remember.

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