Recently Steal Your Soul broke bad and introduced “Jeans Friday” which is a really dorky white guy term for “Casual Friday”.  You guys!  It’s 1994! We’re so progressive over here!  Anyways, we were presented with the exciting news via an e-mail reminding us that yes; we can wear jeans but remember Steal Your Soul is a professional environment and keep that in mind when selecting your outfit.  Sad when I read that because that meant my ripped jeggings were “out”.  Anyways, when I first received this e-mail I thought there was not a chance in hell that A number 1-I wanted to see any of my coworkers in jeans or B number 2-have any of my coworkers peep me in my jeans.

I was off last Friday and luckily escaped “Jeans Friday” but was warned via text that I would need to wear jeans “or else”.  I inquired about this dire warning on Monday and was told that basically I would be totally and completely ‘effed’ if I didn’t participate.  Do I say “fuck you” and don my normal attire (bringing it back to basics) or do I ‘give in’ and putting on a pair of god damn jeans in August?  Because I am weak in mind, body and soul, I am currently wearing jeans.  However, my manager said I was totally ‘crushing’ my 1950’s look so I guess I’ll take that as a compliment whilst I pop my ‘ludes and make martinis.  But I digress.  What about everyone else’s jeans?

1-Cougar Jeans.  I had no idea so many Cougars worked here but I know several people (hey!) who wished they could check out these divorcees in their jeans, stiletto boots (in the summer? Sure! They are slaves to fashion!) and low cut sweaters.  I can practically envision these jeans draping themselves all over the fetuses at Kona Grill later. Looking good, y’all! Looks like your lunch time yoga is paying off. Downward dog for life!

2-Mom Jeans. Now this I was expecting.  I’m already envisioning these jeans cheering loudly for their kid’s soccer game tomorrow and then maybe swinging by Friendly’s for a sweet treat afterward.  Sure, you’re watching your “points” but go for it! Heck, it is Saturday after all!

3-IT Jeans.  You have a job in Information Technology.  You went to a “technical institute” and have no time for things like clothes, women and moving out of your parent’s basement.  Your jeans are light in color with a relatively loose fit.  These jeans are quite accustomed to having a cell phone attached to them.  Heart these bros who clearly do not give one half a fuck about what they look like.  Form over function? Nah, go fuck yourself, busy coding on the ones and zeroes.

So there you have it! An entire post about jeans!  I think I’m ‘back’ now so yay! Have a terrible weekend, you guys!

Prior to naming the Year of 2011, Cafe Darkness wasted 15 minutes reminding us of their cleverness dating all the way back to 2005.

“2005 – The Year of Bad Service.  Get it?  We got bad service literally every time we went out.  But the weirdest part of 2005 is that we actually had money to go out,” said Barista. 

“2006 – A Very Merry Passive-Aggressive Year.  I’m still not allowed to speak on this one, which is kind of passive aggressive, which is kind of the point,” commented TLW.

“2007 – The Year of the Cocksucker.  It’s just funny to say cocksucker,” said TLW. 

“2008 – The Year of What You Mean?  I forgot how we came up with this, but it really came in handy when TLW split up with her husband later that year,” noted Barista.

“2009 – The Year of Best Practices.  Get a divorce, start a blog, exchange pregnancy tests for tampons.  Do you.  Hash tag duh,” said TLW.  Barista chimed in with “Number sign! That makes a hash tag line, right?” 

“2010 – The Year of That’s Not My Problem.  You’ve got ninety-nine problems.  I’ve got none,” said TLW. 

After what seemed like ages, the Year of 2011 was declared as 2011 - The Year of It’s a Thing. 

Things that are now a thing include saying it’s a thing, Kanye West, the State of Maryland threatening to withhold Barista’s federal vendor payments even though she has no idea what the fuck that’s all about, being classified as no frills or being told to bring it back to basics, trivia, warrants and priors, train wrecks, slips and falls, home ownership,  woo woos and vodka limeaids.

Oh hai guys!

1-Did she cash out her 401(k) and go on an Eat, Pray, Love adventure to find herself and eventually ‘the one’?  Is she currently getting really good at meditation and yoga and gluttony and narcissism?

2-Did she get a new job that doesn’t allow her to blog and express herself freely but it’s ok because it’s a job that actually puts her skills to use instead of the mind-numbing repetitive nature of her job at Steal Your Soul, Inc? 

3-Did she get bit by a rabid raccoon and has been undergoing a series of very painful treatments to cure her “foaming mouth” disease?

4-Did she meet the man of her dreams and has been so busy “nesting” and planning her upcoming nuptials she hasn’t had the time nor desire to write self-deprecating blog posts about drinking too much and making out with people?

5-Has she run out of new material mainly because too many people she knows “in real life” read this, thus making it next to impossible to write about what’s “real” and “funny” and “zany” anymore?

Hint: The answer is 5! I’m right here y’all!

You are the only fruit of my soiled loins and upon this, your second birthday, I vow the following:

I will pick you up and spend an hour or so with you once every other week, as the courts have recommended I do. 

I will not give one half a fuck if my coworkers discover you, my beloved bastard.

I will never use your adorableness to get a free drink at Bar Louie.  I will use your charm to get free drinks anywhere else I can.

I will never, ever, ever take you to Mechanicsville.  I fear that’s where all the people with broken dreams and nice houses live.  Terrible influences on a young mind.

I will try to remember to pay child support.  Your other Mom, TLW, still is trying to shake me down since I let your domain name expire last year.  She’s crazy as a rabid lone wolf and also, she bites.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

For piss sake, stop crying.  I won’t ignore you for another year.  I promise.

Love,

Barista

It’s like that thing when you’re g-chatting with one of your friends who’s trying to cheer you up because you are sad and he sends you the most bangin’ dating website ever of which you run and tweet to amazement of your followers. And then later that evening you’re playing Words With Friends with your ex boyfriend from college who you may or may not have lost your virginity to when he brings up said tweets and reminds you that your freshman year roommate was in a porn called “Cap’n Stabbin’s Anal Adventures”, something that you haven’t thought about in years and then tweet about immediately, forgetting temporarily that another one of your roommates is also on Twitter who then responds that she too remembers your roommate who was in a porn in college at which point you remember screening said porn when you were still with your now ex husband and wanting to vomit which then reminds you that you guys met at Easy Street, which is now Sullivan’s, which is also where you first met said friend who originally sent you the awesome captain dating website and introduced you to your most recent ex boyfriend which is why you were bummed and needed cheering up in the first place.  And because of your ex husband you realize that that is why you work at Steal Your Soul,  Inc. and because of Steal Your Soul, Inc. you started a blog and then got on Twitter which is how you met aforementioned original friend above and everything is so meta right now and you wonder what your freshman year roommate who was in the porn is up to right this very second, but you should probably go to sleep since it’s midnight and you need to be at Steal Your Soul, Inc. in the morning.

Birthday flowers!

Hi guys.  Do you miss hearing about TSaur?  I bet you do!  I miss telling you all about him, too!  Because it’s been a minute, this is going to be long, so bear with me. Just know I still hate him and he still smells.  Crucial.

Earlier this month my manager forced me to have a meeting with MP to discuss all the things he was doing wrong in hopes of “promoting his development” since he’s not “good with detail” and “takes offense when his mistakes are pointed out to him”. I.e. teach him how to dougie because he’s a mental midget.  However, considering I’m not his manager nor do I care; I took this opportunity to give him this simple advice: Everything you’re doing right now, do the opposite of that and I think you’ll go far. 

Since he is the biggest moron I’ve ever encountered he takes his “professional development program” to kiss the ass of everyone unfortunate enough to be in this department.  As such, he offers to pay for everyone’s “Birthday Club” admission.  (Just typing “Birthday Club” made me cry inside, BTW).  Anywhoos, Birthday Club is a terrible, awful event that takes place each month and I’ve been a birthday club dropout for years. Read more about it here.  Just know that my response to MP was that I’m a birthday club dropout by choice because I prefer to interact with most coworkers never.

A few weeks ago he creepily bought me flowers for my birthday and placed them on my desk with a card saying they were “from the team”.  I refused to acknowledge said flowers and three weeks later they’re still sitting on my desk rotting away.  See picture of said birthday flowers above.

Last Thursday he decided to bring in breakfast “for the team”. I debated calling in sick to avoid the awkward interaction, but decided that free is free so fuck it and why burn a sick day when I’m not hungover?  He went to a Panera about forty miles away (no, really) as opposed to the one right down the street (really) and spent what must have been upwards of fifty bones on various breakfast sweet treats. Halfway through I was about to have a total and complete panic attack and had to excuse myself and eat the rest of my bear claw in the solitude of the copy room. (No, really).

Because the sound of his voice makes me want to throw a million baby clots, I’ve been forced to listen to music at a volume loud enough to cause permanent hearing damage. As such, a fun side effect of this coping mechanism is that MP scares the shit out of me at least twice a day. He’s a sidler and the next thing I know there he is invading my personal space smelling my cube to shit.  Yesterday he wanted to show me his new cell phone.

MP: I have a new cell phone.

Me: ……

MP: It gets the internet.

Me: (turning around) Neat.

This morning he sidled up next to me once again and asked if I wanted to “grab lunch” with him.

MP: Wanna grab lunch today?

Me: No, I’m going to the gym today.

MP: What about another day this week?

Me: I will be at the gym for lunch always.  (Side note: I am not, but that’s beside the point).

MP: How about breakfast then?

Me: (As I eat my breakfast) I do not eat breakfast ever.

MP: Ever?

Me: Yes.

So there you have it. A full and complete rundown of the past month with the worst coworker to ever exist on the planet.  Aren’t you happy you’re not me?  Samesies!

Baby beer!

My manager told me I dress too much like a hobo last week and suggested I, “bring it back to basics” when it comes to my way of dress in the workplace. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I dig it. I dig it a lot.  As a matter of fact I like it so much Imma go ahead and declare 2011 as the Year of Bringing It Back to Basics!

For example: Are you low on cash but still want to go out and get zany?  Bring it back to basics by smuggling in a flask filled with your favorite booze.  Annoyed with too many babies on Facespace?  No problem. Bring it back to basics and start posting pictures of your fake babies out at various bars around town in hopes moms of the internet get the hint. (They won’t, but it’s fun regardless).  Has your check engine light been on for the past two months and your car smells like burning?  No problem! Bring it back to basics and simply ignore the fuck out of that check engine light.  Spend money on car repairs? LOL! No thank you! 

You can see that bringing it back to basics is 1-rad and 2-basically means not giving a rip about most things, which works with my general disposition and outlook on life.  Give it a try and see if you find yourself checking your mail monthly and taking out your recycling only when the number of wine bottles lined up on the kitchen floor starts to resemble a small army of awesome!  Your outlook on life will thank you. You’re welcome in advance.

Happy New Year!

‘Tis the season for New Year Resolutions and here at Café Darkness, I also have made a list of resolutions.  However, as opposed to all the morons who will infiltrate the gym for two weeks before going back to their lives of gluttony and sloth, I have zero intention of keeping any of these resolutions. Let’s think of them as more like anti-resolutions!

1-Quit Smoking. No thank you!  If the Mayans are right (and I think they are!), I have less than two years of smoking like a lady left before we’ll all donezo.  If and when we make it to 2013, I’ll strongly consider not quitting smoking once again.

2-Check my mail more than once a month.  I know this would please my local USPS worker dearly as they love to leave me notes asking me to please check my mail and even go as so far as leaving it in front of my apartment. (Still don’t care, I’ll just step over it).  However, I will not do this. As much as I love getting bills and credit card offers on the regs, I will have to decline this invitation. 

3-Go out less.  In theory, this is a solid resolution, but let’s get real. Why set the bar (pun intended!) impossibly high?  That’s like a meth addicted prostitute off Jeff Davis saying she won’t give any more awkward handies and is going to enroll in Community College to become a paralegal and turn her life around. Ain’t happenin’ folks. Next!

4-Like babies more. Lol. No.

5-Stop procrastinating routine tasks. Things like taking out the trash and activating my new check card shouldn’t weigh heavy on my mind for days on end when they can easily be accomplished in under ten minutes. However, think of how much more rewarding it is when you actually do the dishes that have been in your sink for five days or put away the laundry you did last week? It’s so much better when you wait, stress out about irresponsible you are, finally do said chore and then congratulate yourself on your awesomeness with an extra large glass of vino. It’s how errands are done, yo!

Hi. Let's eat some food.

Oh shit, you guys! I’ve been so busy making out and being awesome I totes McGoats forgot to write about my guest appearance on richmond.com’s Five Questions With a Foodie.  It’s funny. Go read it. Or don’t. Either way go fuck yourself and never forget “foodie” is not a word.  Happy Hollerdays!