I was looking back over my blog posts for the last year and I am amazed that I managed to find so many different things to write about.
And yet, when I first started this, I was coming up snake eyes.
I wrote the first line earlier, then decided to get some coffee.
And I was in line when it happened.
I met the most unhappy man on the planet.
“I don’t even know why I’m here, I hate coffee.”
This is already a decent opening line, right up until you realize that he is not talking to anyone, he is standing in line alone.
My muse is here.
It opens a big box of WTF questions.
The one that is sitting on top of the question pile is a pretty obvious one.
“Why is he a whiny little bitch that spouts off to no one?”
Apparently the contents of my question box differs from yours.
You have to dig a little before you get to “f you hate coffee, why did you come to Starbucks?”
Because there are several other questions above that one.
Like, “Who the fuck dresses this buzz kill?”
And, “This guy is enough of an annoying shit head, that he must be worth a fortune.” (Ok, so that one is not a question, but it is in the box.)
Now, at least, I have something blog worthy to focus on.
Trust me on this, I can smell annoying shit to make fun of a mile away.
“Why does yogurt have such a high sugar count?”
I realize he is asking me.
I shrug my shoulders and mutter something.
Partially because of my rule of not interfering, and partly because I really have taken a dislike to this guy.
That may be shallow and such, but it is what it is.
I am comfortable with my inner asshole, and cater to him often.
The actual answer to the yogurt sugar question is, you are in Starbucks.
If you are looking for health food, look elsewhere.
This is like a legal crackhouse that sells a legal drug.
I try not to feel bad about my caffeine addiction.
And they don’t make me perform sex acts to get my fix.
Its the illusion of civility that makes us all feel safe.
However, God help us all if the economy gets much worse.
At that point, all bets are off.
And if you want your Venti Caramel Macchiato?
Get on your knees, bitch.