So, you’re a jaded PR professional. You watch the clock all day long because your clients just don’t do it for you any longer. You stare out the window or watch national network news pondering about the high life. From the convenience of your not-so-smartphone, you troll the special #HAPPO want ads, and you see it…
The big break. The moment for which you have been waiting your entire career. Prayers answers. Cherubs singing overhead. Cash registers ringing a melody of “Handel’s Messiah.” What is it?
According to TMZ.com, Dr. Conrad Murray — as in, the guy accused of murdering Michael Jackson — is looking for a publicist. Here’s an idea of what that fateful want ad may read:
WANTED: A talentless and unscrupulous flack in dire need of that filthy Hollywood attention. Paparazzi, “group” functions at hot tub clubs and gorging at In N’ Out during your 2 a.m. jitters. Someone who uses plagiarism as “research,” treats contacts in the media as if they owe you a solid and would be willing to sell his or her mother for a nice view and some Skittles.
There’s a “doctor” who allows sleeping on the job, understands taking some personal time for pain evaluation and isn’t that picky about your peculiar past — namely if you have been to prison. You see, he’s been on vacay in a chilling, secluded location and is making his grand debut back to…let’s say…society next week. Upon his re-entry into society, which he considers like a used syringe for some odd reason, he would like to have a media tour followed by positive press as a benefactor to his community.
Apply at DRMurrayParoled@IDidBeatIt.com.
Next week, Murray gets out of jail thinking he’s an all right guy because AEG, the promotion company that hired his tail in the first place, was found not guilty of hiring Murray as a bad medical practitioner. That notwithstanding, Murray has been denied his license in California, and you know what that means? Book deal.
Well, that and always living with the fact that you are the douchebag who killed the King of Pop. So, good luck with that.
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