Stop Pouring Coffee in the Trash Can, Jerk

Ok people. This is a tricky one for me because I have no idea who I'm going to piss off here. This is something I've seen almost every time I've been in a coffee shop and it blows my mind every time. So to that end I might be pointing my finger at a whole lot of you, not just "them", the obvious, obnoxious others that normally drive us all crazy.

Picture this with me. Go on a little vision quest into my tale of treachery and laziness.

You walk into Starbucks, stand in line, order your soon-to-be-delightful hot beverage, and wait. Before you know it, with a machine-like precision, your friendly Barista delivers, like she does a hundred times an hour for eight hours, a triple-shot Vente French Vanilla Americano into your eager little hands.

Now it's time to personalize it. Some cream, sugar... hmmm, maybe Splenda™ today. You know, the diet and all. Alright, it's a little full, I'll just dump out the top half inch to an inch....

STOP!!!

Wait, what? Did you just pour coffee into the garbage can? Do you do that at home? Is that where the liquids go that you don't want?

Do you know how much refuse coffee you people are filling those trash cans with? Those bags get heavy and god forbid they have a small hole, cuz, you know, that happens. Seriously, do you think that's fun to deal with? Way to be completely inconsiderate.

You may think that it's really not a big deal. It's expected. Those trash bags can hold it. Yeah, that's why little indie coffee shops have signs up that say don't pour your effing coffee into the garbage can. Just ask the Barista to do that for you.

Or better yet... ORDER IT WITH ROOM FOR CREAM! Is the name of your signature drink so long that you forget to tack that on at the end? I guarantee it's not. Do you think you're going to get ripped off and they're gonna not give you enough? Well, clearly the way you're doing it isn't working out. Why not give it a try.

Seriously, people. Room for cream. That's all. It's easy. I've seen dogs learn to say "I love you". Take the time and be courteous to the people that have to clean up after you.

Room for effing cream.

Two Servings for the Price of One

A warning before you read. This article will challenge and contradict some of your well-formed opinions and views of bloggers such as myself. You may, in fact, feel let down or betrayed at first and that is understandable. I'm announcing this ahead of time to save you the heartache of losing, all at once, a perhaps precious preconceived notion that no doubt forms a fundamental pillar in your view of the world at large. In fact, it's really only the setup to the article that you may find shocking.

The rest, I assure you, is enraging, but quite harmless. This all said, I shall continue, but don't blame me when your universe comes crashing down around your ears and you find yourself questioning even the most basic of principles of your existence, like up and down, colour, and love.

So here it is: I try and watch what I eat and maintain some semblance of a figure. (Everyone still with me? Any heart attacks? Shattered dreams?) I don't just sit here amidst endless spent bags of chips, bingeing on junk, drinking endless triple-shot expresso colas and, trust me, there is no fine, gossamer layer of "cheese" powder coating my computer keys. That said, I'm not some crazy health nut who eats only salads and yogurt. About the only part of my regime that I find slightly embarrassing is that I tend to count calories. But you know what? It works, so screw off with the OCD, counting cards jokes.

What this calorie counting has revealed to me is an interesting pattern on behalf of packaged food providers of all types. You see, I often find myself absent-mindedly checking the backs of items at the store and weighing their delicious quotient against their waste-line impact and how these factors stack up against other edible options. For instance, a 300 calorie lean turkey sandwich is low in calories and is adequately flavourful, but for 100 calories more the three-cheese chipotle enchilada may give my tongue an orgasm. It's a tough decision, to be sure.

But what's the pattern, you ask. This is elementary. Surely I'm not just pointing out that if it tastes good then it's bad for you. Everyone knows that, and you really can't blame the food maker. Well, duh. But what I'm really getting at is something I hope you noticed in the previous paragraph. A little mathematical oddity, perhaps? Did you happen to catch that I implied that the spicy Mexican treat was only 400 calories?

Aaahh, so that was intentional. Quite. And quite intentional on behalf of not just me in pointing it out, but on the part of the packager. What I left out was that they list "Calories per Serving" on the label, not total calories in the package. Then they list a handy number next to "Servings per Container" and you are meant to do the multiplication in your head.

Ok, ok! Maybe this is obvious, too, and makes plenty of sense. I mean, if you buy a big ol' family-sized microwave lasagna, chances are, you're not going to eat it all yourself in one sitting. There's probably a family involved, or lots of left-overs. And frankly, if you do eat such an item all at once, I doubt you care about counting calories in the first place.

The thing is, this is not just something they do with large items. I first noticed this while deciding upon wraps at Trader Joes of all places. I mean, those suckers are tasty, and who would suspect anything there. After all, even the check-out people are nice and helpful. I mean, what the eff is that about? Anyways, I'm checking out wraps and comparing their calories, when low and behold, an anomaly! How in the world can the chicken club be lower cal than the Vietnamese veggie? Amazing! I'll take it! I love mayo on just about anything. Ever had a chicken club pizza? Delish!

Wait a minute, somethings not right. Servings per Container? 2? What the eff? How in the world can two wraps of identical size, weight and packaging be considered different in this manner? According to Trader Joes, I'm to eat either the whole Vietnamese or half of the club. That's bulls**t! Am I being punked? Ashton? Nope, they're for serious here. And I don't want to just pick on Trader Joes as this happens all the time everywhere. It must be some loophole in the the FDA requirements or something. I mean, they're telling the truth, but this isn't supposed to be a place where you mislead people. This is the health information part of the packaging. I expect honestly and disclosure. But what do I get? A wanton twisting of the facts. And you know what? It hurts. This is betrayal.

Alright, I'm overreacting a little. This is what companies do. They show their products in the best light they can. I have the power not to buy, after all, and that is the ultimate power of consumerism. Even so, I'm a little upset and annoyed by this practice. I'm just trying to plan my lunch. I'm still going to make an informed choice and that may yet include the now twice as fattening chicken club wrap. But I'm not going to eat half as much just because of your completely arbitrary serving size. The extra calories don't make it any more filling, guys.

Maybe this is kind of a little thing in the grand scheme and whatnot, but I think it's yet another marker of where we're at, culturally. It's a matter of who we can trust. It would be easy to say that they aren't lying to us and hey, this is a recommendation for how much of this item you should eat and still stay within the bounds of a healthy diet. And you know what? Isn't really up to the individual to eat what they want, sacrificing what they want? Aren't we free to eat half a wrap or a whole lasagna? Yes. These things are true.

But when it comes down to it, it's still misleading. I still have to suspect their intentions and take that one extra step to make an informed decision about my health. And the more barriers there are for people, the more likely they are to just give up and not care. One wall might be tough to climb, but a hundred little walls might be work enough to not bother crossing.

You know, maybe it's not so bad. My division skills are the sharpest they've been since 4th grade.

Paragraphs per Serving: 3
Servings per Blog Entry: 4

Foodies: They Appreciate Food More Than You

I don't know her name. I don't know how you know him, although I'd guess it's probably through work. But I do know this; you have a friend that calls himself a "Foodie". And if you're anything like me this drives you up the effing wall.

Straight off, the obvious peculiarity of this admission is how basic the skill is that the label implies. They are experts at the art of food. I myself am an airie. You might say I'm a connoisseur of necessity of breathing. I would wear the badge of "drinkie", but frankly, I think people might get the wrong idea. (Oh, who am I kidding?)

Second, let me say, the label of foodie is unprovable. It's the equivalent of saying you're an athlete because you like to play sports. Although, if you're not good at sports, it's readily apparent. In fact, it might be obvious just by the person's physique. But what if sports were played in one's own mind? How then could you know if someone were an athlete? "I'm quite dexterous with a strength and quickness you've nary seen," they'd exclaim. Are you to take their word for it? Of course not.

OK. Here it is. We've reached the top, the peak, the pinnacle. Prepare yourself to repel down the face of irritation.

What annoys most is what this person is saying about me. They're not merely bragging about the gastronomical feats that they are capable of, but they are generally implying that I am not as interested in a delectable culinary experience as much as they.

This admission is usually part of a larger story or explanation. "Chez Magnifique is the best toast restaurant in the city. I won't get apricot jam anywhere else. But you know, I'm a bit of a foodie." I.e., it's great if I'm able to appreciate it. I probably wouldn't even be able to understand the flavors placed upon my rakish and uneducated tongue. I suppose I shouldn't waste their time or mine attempting to grapple with delights beyond my capacity or station in the edible world.

My message to foodies is as follows. I know you think you're just being clever or cute or perhaps trying to gain the trust of your friend to convince them to try your favourite place to pick croutons off your spicy lemon caesar or throw back a few flaming bacon-wrapped eel rolls. Maybe you really do think you're a better judge of what I'd like than me. Hey, you might just be a dick. Whatever. That's neither here nor there. Whichever one of these is the case, just know this; it's obnoxious. The only people that don't mind you're poorly thought out non-job title are other self-proclaimed foodies. It's too bad there's not a law against meetings of more than two of your kind at a time.

Look, I don't hate everyone that calls themselves a foodie. I really don't. Some of my best friend's are foodies. But as fervently as I believe in equal rights, I'm not sure foodies should be allowed to marry and bare foodie children upon the world. It's just not the future I want for this great nation. I believe in a place where all the children of this fair land have the ability to enjoy delicious food equally, without it being a competition.

And for god's sake, I'll try your effing favourite restaurant.

Congresswoman Michele Bachmann Vs. Earth

Now, look. Normally I would prefer to steer this fine ship, the HMS Areyoueffingserious, as far from political waters as website-anly possible, but I heard something on the radio today that just blew my frickin' mind. It's no news to me that the Republicans these days tend to be a little slow to jump on the environmental bandwagon in favor of their big business buddies. But party affiliation aside, what I listened to earlier today from the Republican National Convention was just absurd. So, who is this site's anti-hero of the hour? I present to you, Minnesota Congresswoman Michele Bachmann.

Minnesota ranks among the highest in education, literacy and voter turn-out. It is known for it's politically involved population. And this fine, progressive state of the union is characteristically blue, presumably through and through. But if one judged this noble people by the comments of their congressional representative, Michele Bachmann, they might make the assumption there is a reason why their state bird is the Common Loon.

Ok, what got to me so much that I have unleashed this fury of witty judgements upon this woman and her electorate? I'll tell you. I'll tell you right now.

Mrs. Michele Bachmann was asked for her views on the state of our countries oil and energy future. Does she believe in investing in renewable resources? Does she want off-shore drilling? Does she even agree with her president, George W. Bush that we, as a country, are addicted to oil? What are her suggestions and positions on what the leadership should do?

And what is her stance, you may be asking? Bachmann categorically stated that wherever it comes from, the United States of America needs more energy, no matter where it comes from. She wants everything increased and expanded: Alaskan reserve and off-shore drilling, research into oil shale extraction from the western states, foreign oil, coal and nuclear power.

This is where her logic forks. And I mean it forking forks. Her two-tiered reasoning is as follows. On the short term, this will alleviate "your pain at the pump," as she calls it. This is not an illogical concept. The more energy that is readily available, the cheaper it will become, and all the millions of Americans that are hurting from this multiplication of oil prices will have a respite. This is a somewhat honorable goal, in a very short-sited way. But it's a goal that resonates with the population. Of course, any major new drilling projects, off-shore or otherwise, wouldn't affect pump prices until at least halfway through the next decade at the earliest.

The second part of her deduction is where I have a bit deeper of a problem. She believes that congress should open up all avenues of energy production and allow the market forces to work their magic. Essentially, once there's enough fuel and power to go around, the economy will thrive and competition will allow greener, alternative sources of energy to flourish. Never mind, for a second, that she feels we're in no way going to run out of oil on this planet. Leave that "non-renewable" label at the door please, and wipe your feet, we don't want to get any of that cheap, unlimited crude on the nice, white carpet.

The incredible short-sitedness of her argument is astonishing, really. For one thing, last I checked, market forces are at work. When oil prices went up, SUV sales went down so low that the big three are closing plants that make them left and right and even the posh symbol of status and wealth, the Hummer, is quickly going the way of the Dodo. Research in hybrid, bio-fuel and electric cars is up and I see more Priuses on the road than Corollas. Solar, wind and hydro technology is having a renaissance with more and more converts of the best and brightest of silicon valley.

If there was so much cheap oil and other non-renewable resources available, what would motivate these companies to innovative and consumers to change their habits? In other words, wouldn't people just keep buying gas-guzzling SUVs that the auto manufacturers would see no reason to stop making?

Oh, wait, did I inadvertently touch on her first point while discussing her second? Is it possible that market forces are actually reacting to our pain at the pump by creating affordable and renewable alternatives? Wait. What this sounds like is that she likes talking about market forces but doesn't really understand what they are. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that she's so deep in the pocket of old-school big business that she doesn't even notice that the majority of even her republican party are begrudgingly admitting that we may have to give green a try.

Let me finish by saying that I don't like paying four bucks for gas any more than the next person. I remember when I would choose the station that had regular for 83 cents over the 87 cents across the street. Those were good days. But I can recognize this is our system at work. When filling your tank empties your wallet, sends us to war and funds terrorist-sponsering countries, maybe it's time to look into alternatives. Even if you're ambivalent towards the environmental effects and you don't see a conflict of interests in buying foreign, surely everyone by now should agree that at some point we're going to run out of our finite resources and we might as well get an honest head-start moving to an alternative. Just as we're being given an incentive to make positive changes and it's working, this Bachmann character wants to un-level the playing field in favor of the status quo. She'd give big oil the break they've been waiting so long for.

You know what? Screw it. She's got a point. Un-regulate fossil fuels! Put the power back in the hands of the few mega-corps that know what's best for us! They wouldn't steer us wrong? They're more responsible and socially conscious than to operate on a short-sighted, bottom-line driven agenda! Who better to look after the environment than those great stewards that have already taken so much from it. Michele Bachmann, you go girl. I'm buyin' me a hummer, before they get popular again in your new golden age of black gold. I'm wanna be that one little woman driving it to the grocery store that cuts you off cuz I can!

Man... who elected her? Common Loon.

Thought: Gladiator Sandals

Sometimes when I see a girl wearing gladiator-style sandals I think about throwing her into a pit with lions and see how she fares.

Blue Tooth Headsets Are the New Rude

Ok, I'm sure this has been said before. As far as I'm concerned, however, it hasn't been enough and maybe to the wrong people. This might be one of those things that one non-offender says to another non-offender. But so long as it never gets said to the people doing the offending then it maintains it's place as harmless gossip. The people need to know. The people DESERVE to know.

So here it is: Take off your Bluetooth Earpiece when you don't need it. There are three occasions when it's ok to wear them. One, you're using it to talk. Two, you're in your car and you may get a call or intend to make a call. Three, you're at work and the same car rules apply.

I get it, you have your reasons, and they're good reasons. You don't want brain cancer, your arm gets tired, you don't want to mess up your hair or you like being able to interact with your phone while you talk. Amazing. Love it. Brilliant device. These are great and stick with them.

The thing is, it's just plain rude the way that so many people walk around with them in their ears these days. If you're in a restaurant eating with your wife, walking down the street with your kids or just chatting with a friend anywhere, then you need to think about the message you're sending.

Would you hold your phone up to your ear in these situations if you weren't on a phone call? It's bad enough the amount people check their BlackBerries every two minutes, and I'm somewhat guilty of that with my phone. But to leave that thing in your ear like you're important enough to get a call at any moment and put your loved ones on hold? That's seriously inconsiderate. And guess what? If you're really important and want to show it, then the call can wait. Important people don't put their incoming calls above their personal life. Who do you think you are, the secret service?

Oh, and trust me, it is not a fashion accessory. It does not make you look flashy, fancy, high-tech or cool. That's what your Oakley's, Crocs, PT Cruiser and the pager on your belt are for. You look like a little boy with a toy walkie-talkie communicator-thingy on your head. Where's your plastic gun and Gap Kids camo pants?

And as much as a Ferrari or some such automotive status symbol is annoying when it's clearly someone trying to show off or get attention (you true car lovers are off the hook), at least it's really expensive and decadent and does manage to draw envious eyes. But the intern on a donut run in front of me at Winchell's had a Bluetooth. If you can buy it at Best Buy and it's a bitch to get out of the plastic heat-sealed packaging, then it won't make you look like a baller.

Basically, here's the deal. I don't want you to get brain cancer, but I don't want you to look like an inconsiderate jerk either. Just take that bad boy out when you're not using it and give both ears to your family for a change. After all, the IHOP isn't a gadget conference. I'm not going to be impressed by your technological prowess. But I will respect your good social sense to leave the plastic in your pocket and enjoy a life unencumbered.