Kendall: Not many people know this yet (mostly because our side hustle vlog hasn't been released yet), but last week we both got fired within an hour of each other from our day jobs. I was fired from Sugarfish for "not smiling enough", and Lily was fired from her coffee shop job for seemingly no real reason. It's okay I hated the job anyway. To paint the picture please enjoy these text exchanges with Lily about my Sugarfish experience:
Being fired lead us on a mad rampage to get a series of Craiglist gigs to pay our rent this month, including being dual Ariels at a kid's birthday party on Sunday.
Lily and I have have done pretty much every side hustle in the book. We've thought about selling our bodies and by that I mean donating our eggs, although Sugardaddy.com has been tempting AF. I actually made it to the final selection process to be an egg donor for a nice gay couple in Connecticut. Apparently I had the "All-American girl next door" type they were looking for in a future offspring. Little did they know my brain is far from that of the cute "All-American girl next door" type. I almost did it, but Mom told me she'd disown me. Okay Mom, well unless you want to throw your girl 6 grand, I'm doing it. Then I thought about having a bunch of little Kendalls frolicking about in the world and I decided maybe it would be better for humanity if there was just one of me. Not that I don't love myself. I'm just a lot of a human (or a mermaid). Anyway, Lily and I do a lot of copywriting on the side and we just recently made it to the final round to write a funny script for a sock commercial. They asked us to fill out a series of questions as to why they should hire us to write the commercial. I thought my responses were pretty darn funny so I'm sharing them below:
Sock Commercial Questionaire:
Why are you funny?
We call ourselves The Eskimo Sisters (https://www.theeskimosisters.com/). We're a partnership, not the lesbian kind although we support that. We're a comedy writer duo and the crossroads where "liberated woman" meets "fragile millennial". This confusing perspective makes us inherently funny.
The shittier life is, the funnier we are. It's a coping mechanism. Recently we hit rock bottom, or should I say "ocean bottom" after both getting fired from our service industry day jobs on the same day, than resorting to working a Craigslist gig to dress as Ariel One and Ariel Two at a kid's birthday party. AKA sitting in the hot sun in mermaid tales for four hours, getting slapped repeatedly by balloon swords, and not being able to move our feet, which were bound together in a flipper. Let me tell you, darlin it’s not better down where it’s wetter (AKA our inner thighs, which were sweating profusely). To make matters worse our car got towed not hours later and our Ariel money combined didn't even come close to covering the towing fee.
Feeling more "washed up" than ever, we admitted to each other that we'd both spent hours researching "painless ways to die" that following morning. Morbid as this was, we thought, "Wow we're dramatic, but what a funny concept for a new TV series". Thus we came up with our latest grand idea, a TV show called "Alternative Ending" about two almost famous comedy writers who decide to kill themselves on the same day. There's more, but I can't share. Because it's like really good.
Aside from seeing the humor in the bad, we're also revolving doors for attracting the "misfit toys" of the world. We are extreme empaths. It's getting so bad we've thought about wearing dog cones just so we can't see other people anymore. Example one: last week we spent hours swapping life stories with 94-year-old John who was, "a legendary filmmaker in his day" in our apartment complex hot tub, who didn't understand that Eskimo Sisters simply means "two girls who slept with the same man" on Urbandictionary.com, so naturally has gone off on two hour tangent about how he spent years living in an igloo in Alaska with indigenous Eskimos, which had lead him to “his first great movie idea”. Example two: while donating some stuff at the Good Will two weeks ago I befriended a sweet homeless man named Michael who lives behind it. After going through my old costume stuff with him, and putting on different pirate eye patches he asked if I had a blanket to keep him warm. I then gave him the only blanket I had in my car: a blanket I'd given to my ex for Christmas and made on Shutterfly.com, covered in photos of me in a bikini in front of different world locations holding up pieces of paper that spelled out, "Thank you Mitchell for giving me the world". Michael was very gleeful about this blanket and immediately decided to attach it as a flag to his grocery cart caravan. He also decided to take a sharpie and replace "Mitchell" with "Michael". So if you're driving down Venice Blvd don't be surprised if you see my smiling face! These are just normal day in the life days for us. Insane life experiences orbit us. Stuff you can't even write. Hence why we're writers.
Why should we hire you guys?
Our psychic medium told us that we're going to be famous. So one day you'll be able to say, "I remember The Eskimo Sisters! They wrote me that sock commercial for only $500. You know, the one that ended up making our company absurd amounts of money? I paid off my kid's college educations, and bought myself that nice house on the coast with that money. And as for The Eskimo Sisters? Well thanks to me paying them for their writing, they didn't have to work that sketchy, Craigslist ad, topless bachelor party to pay their rent that month. Therefore they weren't abducted, and were able to go on to be the millennial version of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler." So really by hiring us. You'd be a hero.