travel mugs are stupid

goddamnit!!!

from now on i'll be drinking my coffee only from a mug.

a frigging mug!!!

a brief recap on how we got from point A to point B:

i came in the office in my usual jolly self, as usual. fuck. that sounded weird.

anyway, so i came in, turned the computer on and banged on the keyboard. i got my coffee brewing and my mp3 player's starting to fill the air and change the vibe in my little corner as i was feeling the song, man. it was this danceable tune from the new radicals, i think. y'know, the one that goes: "don't give up/ blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah/ don't forget/ you only get what you give/ don't let gooooo/ whoooo-hoh-hoooooo.." y'know, that shit. i was feeling it i tell you - head boppin', butt shaking, fingers snapping, the works, man! all the time, my chair was squeeking in protest. "you fat tub o' lard! if you want to dance, stand up for chrissakes!," it said.

yes, it was a typical day. only, it wasn't. that's because i've decided to have my coffee in this for the first time:

yes, it's a stupid travel mug, or is it traveler's mug? you know what? i don't give a shit what it is. if you travel, you put your drink in a bottle, or in a plastic bag with a straw, not in a stupid mug with a lid and a drink hole. it'll just make you look like a dork.

"hey man, what are you having there?"
"coffee."
"oh yeah. i can't see it. how can i be sure it's not ovaltine?"
"well how about i take this travel mug and shove it up your ass, then you tell me if i'm drinking coffee or ovaltine."

yes, instead of my trusty old ceramic mug, i've made the mistake of drinking out of some lame thing that was obviously invented by a limped dick metrosexual. it's hip. it's cool. it's trendy. it's designed to make you look like you have a boyfriend named tony who works as a day manager over at mcdonald's.

what i hate about these things is how you have to really turn, tighten, and seal the lid before you can have your coffee. i mean, where's the fucking manual, huh? how should a dumbass like me suppose to know that? shouldn't things with complex contraptions, invented by some insane reject who sports the latest david beckham hair-do, have at least a quickguide in the box? well where the fuck is it, moron?!

so i loaded the damn travel mug with my freshly brewed energy drink. turned the lid once, twice. pushed open the sliding drink hole cover. pressed the damn thing against my lips and tilted it in a 35-degree angle.

sonnavabitch! i knew i should've tightened the lid for at least a third one.

all of a sudden: scalding hot coffee on my shirt, scalding hot coffee on my khakis, and worst of all, scalding hot coffee on my balls! goddamnit!

it totally ruined my day. the coffee stain on my shirt was the size of china, but looked a lot like australia, while the stain on my crotch looked like greece, i wonder what that meant. but my balls! oh i can almost hear my nuts scream in horror, i tell you. those poor things never felt any liquid that hot before. and the only reason i was forced to drink from that stupid travel mug was my laziness to have my ceramic mug washed by the janitor.

fuckfuckfuckfuck!!! fuck you travel mug! from now on, i will always use my ceramic mug when i drink coffee in the office. it's kickass, it tell you:
or if ever i use that travel mug again, i'll do it without the lid and with a straw. yeah, a friggin' straw. because i'm sure as hell won't be pouring coffee over any of my shirts again.

wait, let me try it with a straw now.

sonnavabitch! now i burned my taste buds. goddamnit!!!

//i'm out.

sir a-hole. the protector of the (sexually) abused!

just when you think things can't get any weirder... they made me chairman , oops, chairperson (fuck! i hate the PC police!) of the newly formed anti-sexual harassment committee here at work.

go on, laugh. it's funny.

i know. what the fuck were they thinking? it's like i'm the last guy who would even give a rat's ass if someone gets sexually harassed in the office. okay, that was just mean. sorry, but am i even qualified for this shit? i only think that i already have my hands full doing PR and branding in the office.

plus... i love porn. i think that right there constitutes an outright disqualification, doesn't it?

*bing!* (in case you're wondering, that's the sound of a light bulb switched on. pretty lame, eh?)

come to think of it, maybe my appointment in this committee won't take much of my time afterall. and if i'm really lucky (and the guys at the office just layoff the booze a bit) i won't be doing work with it at all. you see, the committee will act as a grievance desk to handle the evaluation and pass judgment on sexual harassment cases.

*wicked story jump*

i can imagine it right now... all six committee members and i seated in a semi-circle formation, wearing black robes and lame curly blonde wigs that those idiots in the british parliament wear. then we'll have the accused right at the center with his hands tied with barbwires, his shirt all in shreds and his back bleeding, and his face all black and blue. he'll be crying like a baby in front of us mumbling some completely inaudible shit about not having to touch (and squeeze) women's breasts ever again. then he'll totally flip out and shout something like "i only needed milk for my coffee!!! can't an honest hardworking employee get milk for his coffee?! can't he?!"

then i'll say with a thundering voice that only james earl jones can do...

" silence! you, sir, are found guilty of 186 counts of sexual harassment. you are thereby sentenced to lifetime solitary confinement inside the betty boop rehabilitation facility otherwise known as the left bottom drawer of our vice president's office desk. there you will spend the rest of your life boxed in without food and sunlight with just the vice president's old pair of smelly tennis shoes and a cuddly betty boop doll!"

*graaash!!! booom!!!! ka-blam!!!!* (in case you're wondering, that's the sound of thunder, because i'll be sentencing people only on cold, stormy evenings, when conan o'brien's not on.)

he'll be kicking and screaming: "please, lord. not the betty boop! kill me now! not the betty boop!"

then i'll go... still with the james earl jones voice: "guards. take him away!"

*graaash!!! booom!!!! ka-blam!!!!* (yeah, it does sound more like pots and pans.)

"simba! simba!.... luke, i am your father.... this is CNN..." damnit, i love james earl jones!

okay, back to reality. the reason why i think i wouldn't do any work on this committee is all the ladies in the office are just plain ugly.

that's it. they're all just ugly.

and if you fornicate with, much less grope and harass any of them, then people here will just think you're on crack. that case would then be handled by the anti-drug and substance abuse committee. not me. sweet!

//i'm out.