Thursday, November 20, 2008

Thoughts From My Office

- There's this fucking bagel shop downstairs and the bagel lady always cuts the bagel in half all the way down until like an inch from the bottom. So then, when I try to separate it, that shit rips apart and the bagel's guts (cream cheese) fly out everywhere and it’s messy. I don't get it...does she get like 90% of the way down then freaks out and stops? Does she have a fucked up bagel cutting phobia?

And here's my question: what in the fuck is she doing working in a bagel shop if she has some sort of bagel cutting phobia?

That's retarded.


- I have to admit something to all of you. I fucking love highlighting things. Every time a task calls for me to highlight things I just get real deal excited to highlight shit. Between me and you, sometimes the task doesn't require me to highlight anything, but I do it anyways.

I do it Yellow, pink, and sometimes even blue if I'm feeling frisky. I'm just really into highlighting stuff. I'll go on record...Highlighting: its what Sully is really really into.


-The Do's and Don’ts of Working in My Office Cafeteria

*DO: Use the same tongs to handle both vegan veggie wraps and dirty greasy bacon strips

*DON'T: Take off your plastic gloves before scratching the back of your thigh

*DO: Be inconsistent with how much feta cheese you put on everyone's Greek salad.

*DON'T: Worry about handling the massive line of customers gathering at your stand because your Polish conversation with co-workers is far more important.

*DO: Look at customers like they are mental when they ask for extra mozzarella on their chicken cutlet

*DON'T: Under any circumstances show the slightest hint of emotion

*DO: Let your extremely old (grand?)mother with swollen ankles sit in a chair near your stand and stare ominously at everyone who approaches and gross them out with said swollen ankles at the very time that they do not want to be grossed out at all

*DON'T: Ever break, bend, or circumvent any rule no matter how needless it may be because "that's how Hitler got started."


Final Thoughts...

All in all I actually do really like corporate life. They gave us free cotton candy earlier this year. Hey! $2 sundaes once a week, can't beat that right? They let you apply your own syrup too, which makes a world of difference. Who the fuck can tell me how much syrup I need? Having to dress up all the time is a pain in the ass, but I stick it to them about the dress code in ways they'll never figure out. For example, I am not wearing any underwear right now.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Starbucks, America, Money, Love, Respect, Starbucks

Starbucks fourth quarter profit drops 97 per cent on closure costs

So I saw something terribly startling on the front page of Yahoo! Canada today. Apparently Starbucks is going down the great grande double mocha shitter in the sky. This, as I’m sure you all know, comes as sad news to me. Being the thick rimmed glasses, scarf wearing, messy haired, too poor to be a yuppie, but too rich to be in a struggling band type of guy that I am; this startling twist of events has hit me like a spin kick to my testicles.

My most immediate concern is the baristas. Oh lonely, sarcastic, Starbucks baristas. Who will you scoff at and talk ill of when there are no more customers to be served? You can’t make sarcastic remarks while serving coffee to your parents, because, after all, you are living under their roof and they are paying for your liberal arts degree. My guess is you’ll be trading that green apron for a blue one and greeting people with that trademark coffee barista sneer down at the local Walmart where you’ll try to sell discount denim in size venti.

On that topic, let me be the first to say that I will dearly miss ordering my coffee in classy Italian sizes (is it Italian? I’m too sad to research it). The amounts of pride I’ve drawn from strolling up to the counter and playing gay interior decorator while describing every last colour, hue, hint and sprinkle of my order will be greatly missed. This morning I dropped to my knees and thanked God that I wasn’t a writer (wait, am I a writer?).

Be prepared to experience a shortage of reading material rivaled only by the pre-printing press era. Every writer who has nursed their drink like a freshman at a strip club trying to squeeze every last drop of bandwidth out of the free internet access is utterly screwed. I feel for these people. Thinking that Joe Writer will no longer have a place to sit in a comfy lounge chair for six hours with a, "I'm in deep thought" look in his eyes as he types “I'm gonna get pussy” over and over while acting like he’s banging out the next ‘Catcher in the Rye’ is a burden I cannot possibly bear. This madness must end.

At this time I can’t help but draw comparisons between the late great Kurt Cobain and Starbucks. Both from Seattle, each perfected their art in a way that allowed them to act like they invented it. This inflated sense of self-superiority allowed both to act like their shit didn't stink and the public ate it up. Both saw their rise to popularity come swift and thunderous, and in the end both died by their own hands in a sea of depression and a lack of self identity. I blame myself and all of you for demanding too much of their craft while merely overpaying every step of the way. Come on, guys. We can do better than that.

It’s not too late. We can save Starbucks. We can get out there today and order a cinnamon spice mocha with no foam and a pinch of nutmeg or a caramel apple cider easy on the whipped cream but heavy on the chocolate shavings. It’s the least we can do for a friend. The type of friend that does so so much for us and asks for nothing in return; nothing but $5 dollars for a fucking cup of fucking coffee.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

"Michael: Really? No Seriously, What The Fuck?" Issue #2

Well after like 3/4 of a year I am here with your second installment of "Michael: Really? No Seriously, What The Fuck?". If you missed the last issue or need a refresher, go here.

Alright so this issue is instructional: It's more of a manual than anything else. Let's get right to it.


Now we've all found ourselves in the scenario where you are talking to your roomate and making fun of a famous person who has recently died. Naturally, because they are a giant nerd, they take offense to it and say, "Michael Crichton was one of the world's best authors and you're making fun of him, and you're an asshole." Aside from your roomate's comments being blatantly wrong since Michael Crichton was not the greatest writer, they're also a little annoying.


Go on MSN and message every mutual friend you have; facebook so many people that you have to create three separate private messages due to recipient caps on Facebook private messaging; and e-mail everyone in his office, which is also your former office, with this simple message:

"yo can you do me a huge favor and msn/call/facebook message/e-mail [Michael] when you get a chance and, in a very serious tone, offer your condolences to him over the death of Michael Crichton, author of Jurassic Park. Also, try not to mention I put you up to it either, THX"


Sit back and laugh as many of the literally hundreds of people you have contacted barrage your roomate through every modern communication medium with sincere condolences regarding the death of one Michael Crichton, author of Jurassic Park.