If barista bears came to life

Whoever makes these videos should be King/Queen of America.

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.

Oh no she didn't

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

DON'T YOU EVER COMPARE SARAH PALIN TO A BARISTA AGAIN OR IMMA TAKE THE RAZORBLADE OUT MY MOUTH. YOU GOT ME, WALSH?!?

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.

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.

King of the Dogs

 I know my whole schtick is "I'm not really a barista," and I'M NOT because if I was, I would go to my roof and swiftly throw myself off of it. But that's not the point. I think I've been so busy talking about who I'm not, that I've completely forgot to mention who I am.

So, I thought it was only right to introduce a few things about myself to my loyal readers, all two of you, (hi mom) and I wanted to start with the cutest damn thing about me and that would be my English Bulldog Zeus.

Zeusface Killah came into my life a little over a year ago via Craigslist, which proves that the website has many other uses other than directory for prostitutes (see post below).
Zeus is the most delicious form of dog. He's funny-looking, snores, makes noises like dinosaur, drools and overall, is just one squishy pile of extra-large loving. And he's all mine.
I always wanted an English bulldog because of all the reasons listed above but because of their abnormally large heads or something like that momma bulldogs can't have normal baby bulldog births, which means that those wrinkly little bastards are about as much as a car. And since I make coffee, not counterfeit money, I always assumed that they would be out of my price range. But my fella scoured the internet and finally found someone who was looking for a good home for their English bulldog. So we called them, left out any mention of our drinking and intervenous drug use, and soon enough I had the super-meaty puppy of my dreams. I've attached a kinda poor quality video below of the boy, proving that his abnormally large bulldog head is not exactly space for an abnormally large bulldog brain. Enjoy Zeus and the laser pointer.

What did you do with my whores, Craig?

 If you haven't heard yet, Craigslist has removed the "adult services" section from its website. Now, I know you're probably thinking, "what does this mean for me?" Well, your favorite little barista/blogger is here to help. I decided to compile a list of how the absence of "adult services" might impact you and those around you.

1. Massages will no longer be sensual. Yep, you heard me. The act of getting an oily rubdown from a stranger while in your skivvies will have to go back to being professional.  
2. Escorts will now be advertsing on Facebook. Which means the suggested friends box is about to get really awkward, i.e., "Why is dad friends with someone named, 'The Hung Cowboy?'"
3. College grads who have taken to the site aching to pay off exorbitant loans are now going to have to hit the streets. Meaning, that philosophy degree won't be of much help while going toe-to-toe with Candy and her broken beer bottle. 
4. Evangelical leaders will now only be able to cruise for dudes at their gay-to-straight camps.
5. Ever wanted to be tied up and beat by a leather-bound, transvestite midget? Yeah. Well, that's gonna be a little bit harder to make happen now.
6. See number 4. Replace evangelical leaders with politicians and gay-to-straight camps with public restrooms.
7. The pimp you encounter might be named Craig. He probably has a list. But he will most certainly  have a gun, so you should try your best to not end up on his list. 

  
If after you read this, all hope seems lost, don't despair. There's a reason it is called "the oldest profession." Hookers are a wily bunch and will no doubt find a way to use technology to their advantage. I'm thinking Twitter, so remember to look for @leatherbound_midget and until then get a professional massage and relax.