For God’s sake, wash your ass!
I don’t think I am asking for too much here.
I cannot name a time that Starbucks ever had a stank like this going on.
And the sad part is, it’s a self inflicted wound.
Starbucks did it to itself.
It all has to do with free electricity and lax policies concerning the homeless.
Every table is wired in a starbucks.
They do that so people like me will stay awhile.
The longer I stay, the more I will buy.
But here is the flaw in the plan.
The homeless will spend a dollar and stay all fucking day.
The government gives away cell phones with chargers and free cell plans.
The one thing the government does not give away is charging stations with free electricity.
So here is the one flaw in Starbuck’s plan.
I am positive that I am the customer they planned on with the whole setup.
As opposed to a $1.50 sale to someone who will then sleep in a massive BO stupor for 10 hours.
I can guarantee that little scenario is not on any business plan at the corporate office.
I broke my nose years ago playing hockey, so I don’t smell much these days.
But the stench of the unwashed ass of the homeless guy at the next table is killing me.
“How can you be so cruel? You don’t know what his life has been like. Walk a mile in his shoes…blah, blah, fucking blah.”
Cry pussy, cry your eyes out.
All actions in life have consequences.
A dozen minor decisions pile up into 1 major issue.
Ignorance of the laws of life is no excuse.
“But thats not fair!”
Right, its not.
Doesn’t mean thats not how it is.
Sorry to get real on you, but that little rant I found balled up in the back of my head, so I dusted it off and put it out there.
Shit in my head has a shelf life.
I keep nothing past the due date.
That little philosophy will not win you a lot of friends and it will lose you a few, but at least you know that the ones that are left have a little backbone to them.
Excellent sign of people who I will piss off is that they use the phrase “There is nothing funny about ___”
Censoring yourself is like an addiction, it seems harmless at first and then you realize one day that it effects everything you do.
Trust me on this one, you don’t wake up one day with this type of literary tourettes.
Its a place you end up, not a place you begin at.
There is a scene in the epic tale Cyrano De Bergerac where Cyrano talks about being his own man:
“But, to sing, to laugh, to dream,
to walk in my own way,
free with an eye to see things as they are,
a voice that means manhood.
To cock my hat where I choose.
Not a word, a yes, a no?
To fight, or write.
But never to make a line I have not heard in my own heart.”
Edmond Rostand was the shit.
I wonder how he took his coffee?