Thinking about going back to school to get your MBA?

Can't figure out what the university wants out of that admissions essay where you're supposed describe how your life experience has been leading you towards your MBA and what you plan do with your life after you get it? Not sure how to fake the entrepreneurial inclinations the B-schools crave in applicants? Afraid to admit the only reason you want an MBA is to impress chicks? Fear no more, Indignant Online has found the Harvard MBA admission essay by Joey Loser, a corporate toady, just like you. Follow Joey's structure and his single-minded candor, and we're sure you'll get into Harvard, too.

Please Let Me Into Harvard Business School
By
Joey Loser, Corporate Toady

Please let me into Harvard Business School. I have spent my entire life in the pursuit of cheap beer and agreeable women while developing an entrepreneurial spirit in a consulting vein. The only thing that stands between myself and the intimate company of socially acceptable women is the respect that a piece of paper declaring me a graduate of your fine program brings.

I came from a small town and a humble background. I was a very ugly child. The girls would not have sex with me because I was very ugly. Becoming frustrated, I tried the boys, but they would not have sex with me either, because I had horrible acne on my bottom. I tried sheep, but I was not very athletic and the sheep would run away from me. So I grew up very frustrated.

Eventually, my parents sent me to college. As I was not very bright, they could not send me to a good school like the University of Chicago, where I could meet women in an environment where all the men were as geeky as myself. I was only able to go to Deewllid University, where the men were all better looking than me and hoarded all the women. It was all right, though because there were high school girls near the campus, and they were easily impressed by the fact I was in college, so I was able to have sex for the first time.

It was good.

Then I graduated from college. When I was no longer in school and didn't have a job, the high school girls' parents realized what was going on and ran me out of town. I moved to New York and got a job in the mailroom at a Wall Street firm. I tried dating but all the brokers hogged all the women. Then I discovered how easy the students at NYU are. They were easily impressed that I had a job and I was able to have sex again.

It was good.

Eventually, I was able to convince a management-consulting firm in Cleveland that my time in the mailroom made me an expert on corporate structure and information flow. That firm offered me more money to move to Cleveland. Since everything is cheaper in Cleveland, including prostitutes, I discovered I could have even more sex and a larger apartment, so I moved. Consulting seemed to be a perfect match for a man of my ambitions. I dutifully studied the film, "In the Company of Men," and it helped me greatly in my duties.

It was good.

Until I realized that I couldn't afford my large apartment and my prostitutes when combined with the massive medical bills from all the diseases I caught from my prostitutes. Especially when the firm wouldn't let me use my expense account for the prostitutes.

So I moved back to New York. Unfortunately, as easy as they are, the NYU girls are terrible lays compared to Cleveland whores. Fortunately, my new company in New York is a dot com consultancy, and while they don't let me have an expense account, I was able to share my knowledge of expense accounts with my new clients, thus increasing everyone's enjoyment, and developing my entrepreneurial spirit as developed expense account work-arounds for all parties involved. And there are plenty of gold diggers at industry events, so I could have sex again.

It was good.

Unfortunately, the gold diggers are always trying to get knocked up, and condoms are expensive and cutting into my spending money. I also have to pretend I have stock options and I keep slipping up.

All my life I've been upgrading the quality of my sex, from high school girls to college girls to prostitutes to gold diggers. I realize that I need to take the next step. I need to have sex with women who can afford their own birth control, so I afford to buy the more risqué foreign editions of Playboy with my disposable income. Unfortunately, I am a lowly Internet executive from a small town. Socially acceptable women will not talk to me, for I have not yet achieved the proper pedigree. Were socially acceptable women, that happened to be rich, ever to talk to me, and if the sex was good enough, I might even contemplate marriage as I am approaching middle age and it might help with promotions.

In order to have sex with socially acceptable women, I must improve myself, or at least be able to show them a piece of paper that says I improved myself. I figured I would need to either get a law degree or an MBA. I figured a law degree would allow me to save money by writing my own pre-nuptial agreement. Then I realized if I got a good MBA, then I could marry some rich broad with more money than me and I wouldn't need to have a pre-nuptial agreement, so getting a law degree would be silly. And that is why you must let me into the Harvard Business School.