Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Nervous System Be Damned

The super-hilarious vlogger Jenna Marbles explains what caffeine does to her. As a caffeine purveyor, I love this video because it kinda makes me feel like a meth dealer, and I've really always wanted to be a meth dealer.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

A Warning for the Road-Weary

I took a little time off in my last blog post from bitching about dickweed customers to bitch about dickweed politico nutjobs that were taking over my town. I'm sorry. I will now return to my regular rants.

Hey Travelers. Yeah, you in the pajamas.  The one who comes into my store, smelling like redbull and sweaty feet, pissed because you aren't making good time to DisneyWorld.

How about you CHILL THE FUCK OUT.

I know that this priceless, memory-filled vacay is important to you, and may in fact be the only thing that is keeping you from duct taping a plastic bag around your head. But if another asshole with an out-of-state tag orders 14 frappuccinos, bitches about waiting, and then asks me "how hard my job is?" I will not be responsible for my actions.

How have you people not realized that I could do any number of disgusting things to the product you are about to ingest? I mean, I won't because that's gross, but doesn't the possibility make you nervous. You wear you seatbelt, right? Bought life insurance? Well, I want you to think of being nice to your barista as a kind of insurance policy. As in, you make eye contact with me, and I'll make sure the girl who has pink eye doesn't touch your drink. Okay?

Now, have fun at Disney.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Right to Google Bomb

A few GOP-presidential hopefuls are in my town for the "Right-to-Life Conference." Now there's nothing more I love than a bunch of rich, white dudes telling me what to do with my body, but I need a favor.

Rick Santorum, bigot-extraordinaire, is one of the hopefuls in town hoping to appeal to the whackjob, conservative vote. For all of you guys that are unaware, Santorum got himself into a little bit of a Google-search snafu in 2003. I'll give you the cliff notes version.

  1. Republican Senator Rick Santorum made a few quotes comparing homosexuality to child molestation, incest and bestiality. 
  2. Dan Savage, sex-columnist (and now founder of the "It Gets Better Project"), got pissed and asked his very loyal readers to think of a new definiton for the word "santorum"
  3. The winning definition was: Santorum -- a frothy mix of lube and fecal matter sometimes the byproduct of anal sex.
  4. The definition was put on the website "Spreading Santorum."
  5. Savage fans google-bombed the site.
  6.  The definition site and its wiki page to this day bill before the then senator, now presidential-nominee's webite.
In honor of Mr. Santorum being in my city trying to end my reproductive rights, I would like to encourage anyone who reads this blog to go and visit the "Spreading Santorum" website. I would not call this google-bombing but fair competition. He thinks I shouldn't have a choice, I think his name should always be associated with a frothy mix of lube and fecal matter sometimes the byproduct of anal sex.

Also, this Colbert clip talking about Santorum's google issue is like an angel hug.

Nothing says NPR like a Foul-Mouthed Barista

When I'm not busy making coffee for douchenozzle customers, I'm interning for NPR. Don't seemed so shocked, I told you I wasn't really a barista. Jesus, why don't you guys listen!

Anywho, my internship has its own set of problems, mainly, I don't get paid. Everyone keeps telling me that it is worth it just for the experience and ability to make contacts. Although, I'm pretty sure those people are fucking liars. Especially since about four hours into my first day of interning I came to the realization that I'm not exactly the "public-radio" type. Did you know that professionals tend to frown on casual anal sex talk? What the hell am I supposed to talk about then? The Weather? The new GOP presidential hopeful? Why don't I just stab myself in the eye with a hot fork?

However, I only have about a month left and after that comes GRADUATION! I'm basically positive that this much-anticipated ceremony will only signify my start to being one of the most overly-qualified baristas to ever make a latte, but I'm cool with it. At least my current co-workers are more than happy to hear with me talk about illegal sex acts, and in a way, that makes all the douchenozzle customers worth it.

Now, off to work I go.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Orange you glad she makes your coffee

Most of the time when I come to my blog it's to bitch and moan about dickface customers, but sometimes your favorite blogista needs to vent about one of her own.

Enter ... overly-tan barista whose goal in life is to be an import car model. Sounds good, right? Quick Description: She's stupid, like a sun-roasted Forest Gump. She's also 19 and hot.

If there was ever someone who will make me lose faith in men, it will be this overly tan, slightly retarded girl.

Why you ask? Because I watch as they stop their cars in the middle of a parking lot to talk to her while she smokes a Newport on break. They coo with delight when she gives them incorrect change, explaining that sometimes she has trouble counting. They dry hump the counter when she looks at them with empty eyes and asks if she looks cute in her apron, while twirling a jet black hair extension.

Now I know you may be thinking that this is coming off rather harsh, but I'm concerned that this copper-colored idiot will be the next Republican vice president if she eye-fucks the right man.

I know nothing can be done and that many girls (and dudes) still believe that stupid equals sexy. But I pray that for every super-hot, import-model hopeful who reads at a 2nd-grade level, there is an even hotter Mensa member, who is busy building rockets and proving that smart and sexy can be found in the same non-orange body.

Until then, I will make it my mission to make sure this girl never makes eye contact with any GOP presidential candidate.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Oh no she didn't

While perusing YouTube I found a video that made me add a name to my "face-cuttin' list." 


Monday, June 13, 2011

Barista Fetish? Read on.

Recently, I have come across a plethora of articles about flirting with baristas. Most paint us as nothing more than money-grubbing whores who will bat their eyelashes at anyone who throws a five in the tip jar-- which is pretty much spot on-- but that doesn't mean that one could never truly be interested in a customer. So for those who have stumbled upon my lovely, little blog while trying to find coffee-girl porn, you're in luck. I'm going to give my list of top tips on how to garner the attention of a barista.

1. If it's pink or sickeningly sweet ... Don't freaking order it. I can't tell you how many times a perfectly beautiful man has been spoiled by his obsession with white chocolate mochas or strawberries and cream frappuccinos. It instantly makes us believe that you are the proud owner of a vagina. 

2. When a barista asks if you need sweetener in your coffee, please don't ask her to stick her finger in it. This line is commonly used by men with date-rapist moustaches. 

3. Don't try to impress us with your coffee knowledge. We don't care. I would rather shove my hand in a blender than hear a guy share his opinion about washed vs. semi-washed coffee beans. 

4. Never bring up how much money you make in the 90-second span of a barista taking your order.
"Yeah, I'm going to have my Cadillac serviced after I leave here. She cost me a cool 80-grand, but she was worth every penny. Maybe, I could take you for a ride sometime."
"Or, maybe I could just stumble upon your gay porn collection now and save me a couple months."

5. No penis puns. I know how tempting it is with the word grande flying around to make a junk reference, but trust me, the only thing it will do is make us want to unload a can of pepper spray in your eyes.

6. Dress well. I do not want to get asked out by a man in pajamas or an Affliction t-shirt. If you have ever come into a store with either one of these items on, please stop reading this post and begin the process of buying yourself a lifelike sex doll. It will be easier in the long run, I promise.

7. Be nice. The easiest but most underused trick in the book. After a string of doucheface customers, I have seriously considered dry-humping the first genuinely nice person I come in contact with. Smile, ask how they're doing, say thank you. In the starved-for-kindness profession of coffee bitch having someone treat you like a person is super hot.

Friday, June 10, 2011

I just really love cats!

Even though this is a joke, I feel pretty good about myself knowing that there are enough women out there like this to warrant a spoof, and I'm not one of them yet.