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You Are Not The Next Michael Cera

Casting calls on craigslist are almost always hilarious. It’s always like:

DO YOU WANT TO BE RAPED? THIS COULD BE YOUR BIG CHANCE TO BE RAPED. PLEASE COME TO HOLLYWOOD IN OUR BASEMENT. EMAIL US YOUR DICK PICKS AT [email protected]

The American Dream. But it’s equally unsettling when the casting call totally has your number. Like when it insists that you might have what it takes to be the most charming young comedic actor of a generation.

If you can’t make it to the casting call, just add them on Facebook and you’ll probably be a movie star. Promise!

On the one hand, DO NOT PLAY WITH US, UNIVERSAL PICTURES. We are young, heartache to heartache we stand. But on the other hand, it would be cool if in the near future people in their mid-20’s started saying “do you remember what it was like when you realized you were too old to be the next McLovin’,” instead of the way it has been for the past decade with “do you remember what it was like when you realized you were too old to be on the Real World.” Yuck. That is the saddest shared experience we have now. Sorry, 9/11.