Highly Motivated People: You Have Been Dismissed.

I know you.  You get up at 7am every morning, run 3 miles, shower, and then bike to work.  You work a 12 hour shift at a job you absolutely love.  You go above and beyond your original job description because you have ideas that increase production and profitability.  And your ideas work.  Your boss loves you; he pats you on the back.  You go to the gym on your lunch break, “eating just slows me down,” you tell your coworkers.  Then you still have energy to come home and go out on the town, see a film, hang with friends, and buy drinks for everyone.   Always smiling. Then on weekends you build a new deck in the backyard, plant a citrus tree, or maybe even skydive.  Maybe all three. You throw a barbeque, clean, do laundry, run five more miles, write a draft to a novel you always tossed around in your head, call your parents, tell them you “love them”, tend to the garden, and volunteer at the local YMCA.  Your hair is always perfectly quaffed and you look 5 years younger than your actual age.  You finally go to bed around 2:30am – first one up, last one to bed.

I admire you.  But you’re still dismissed.

Kale: You Have Been Dismissed.

Remember a long time ago, when romaine lettuce seemed exotic? I bought into the idea and was happy eating it: crisp, hearty, and the leaves could stand up to any dressing, no matter how moist. Then baby spinach walked into town and frankly, he had a good run, until…mixed greens. I could tolerate mixed greens – variety is the spice of life sort of thing. But then mixed greens were killed off by the ultimate asshole: kale.

I know it’s a superfood. I know. I get it. You can stop mentioning it every time you order your salad. Seriously. Stop. But let’s be real for a brief moment – kale doesn’t even taste that good. No matter how long I steam it, or cook it, my fork still can’t penetrate its waxy coating. And even when I do manage to get a leaf to my mouth, it’s just bitter and bland.

Let’s stop pretending we enjoy it. Kale, romaine, spinach: they’re all just a vehicle to deliver salad dressing to our mouths. You know you’d rather have a wedge of iceberg with ranch dressing dripping down the side.

But it’s not just kale, it’s the fact that everyone who orders kale is a major dick. They’re the kind of people that have to change everything about the very salad they just ordered (dressing on the side, dried cranberries instead of croutons, tofu instead of chicken, hold the walnuts but add sunflower seeds, and can you steam my kale one-and-a-half minutes longer than you normally do?). It’s just a salad; I promise you it’s nothing important.

Side note: “Kale” is what uppity parents name their bitchy sons. Coincidence?

I’m over it.

Intelligentsia Coffee, Silver Lake: You Have Been Dismissed.

I’m sorry that I walked into your establishment (with a smile mind you), paid $5.50 for a cup of coffee, and then had the audacity to ask you a question. How rude of me. I apologize for not knowing the difference between your Takesi Bolivian beans and your El Machete brew. I’m so terribly naive. Do you hate me? Is it because I’m not wearing a herringbone newsboy golf cap?

Hello? Why are you pretending not to hear me?

I’m saddened that we all sat idle while the act of brewing and pouring coffee rose to an art form. One of us should have objected. Now we are left to deal with baristas who think they are rock stars because they can pour foam into the shape of a heart. What is that anyway? I think it’s time they come up with a new industry standard shape to pour. Perhaps a middle finger? Just saying.

Sunday Brunch With the Girls: You Have Been Dismissed.

(Annoying white girl voice): Mimosa’s anyone? The best cure for a hangover is to drink more! (Followed by loud cackles).

Ugh. Nothing gets me more bummed than seeing a bunch of single women sitting around a table talking loudly about how crazy they got on Saturday night and then eye-fucking every guy that walks by, while eating frittatas and fried potatoes — AND getting drunk at 11am.

You’re single for a reason ladies.

Dismissed.

The Use of the Word “Cray” and/or “Cray-Cray”: You Have Been Dismissed.

To Whom It May Concern,

Recently we have noticed a rash of young-ish business professionals casually spouting the word “cray.”  Thanks Jay-Z and Kanye!  We find this embarrassing.  It sends shivers down our spines every time we hear it.

“Did you see Richard’s 3^rd Quarter financial projections?  That spread sheet was cray-cray.”

Or…

“I absolutely must have that recipe for the red wine poached tofu steak you made the other night.  That shit was cray good.”

If you utter this word or phrase, please stop being difficult and cease using it immediately.  When 30-something, well-off, professionals start using a term it becomes dead for all of us – for eternity.  Maybe that’s a good thing.

Thank you.

The Management

People Who Make Phone Calls While Shitting: You Have Been Dismissed.

It says a lot about where you rank in someone’s life if they call you while they’re taking a shit. I never understood the logic behind it:

“Ah, man, I REALLY need to take a dump. I think I’ll return Steven’s call.”

If you are called by a friend, a colleague, or a lover, while they are engaging in this behavior, I’m going to bet they probably don’t think highly of you. Think about it. The only time in their entire day where they can manage to fit you in and talk, is when they’re semi-nude and crapping.

I don’t want to hear that in the background. I promise. You’re not that fascinating. Let’s all just agree to do our bathroom business in private: no hand held devices and no communication of any kind. Period.

Why is everyone so scared to be alone for 5 minutes anyway?

Women Who Swear They’re Off Their Period. Seriously, C’mon. Dismissed.

Just be a little more responsible…and honest.  That’s all I’m asking.  I don’t like pulling out of your meat curtains and seeing that my baby arm has turned red.  You know when your period is over,  let’s not play dumb anymore.  Okay?  Thanks a lot.

Doppler Radar: You Have Been Dismissed.

Dear Doppler Radar,

I fucking hate you. The quirky local weatherman (or local slutty weather gal with huge juggernauts), gives you a special long winded name like, Mega Doppler 7000 Storm Tracker 2000 and claims you can track the weather down to a specific street corner. Yet when I watch your images, and see pixelated shades of green making their way across the Pacific towards my beloved Los Angeles, and I hear the weatherman translate your data into words, claiming a “major storm” is on the way, you always just end up betraying me. You are never right Doppler. Ever. Read the rest of this entry »

Double Albums: You Have Been Dismissed.

First of all, how many bands make ONE album worth of great material? An album where every song belongs? It does happen, but it is obviously extremely rare. So I find it very dickey when bands, in the name of being artists, decide that instead of giving their fans 3 good songs out of 15, why not give them 6 good songs out of 30? Read the rest of this entry »

Ellen Page: You Have Been Dismissed

UGH.

OK we get it.  You’re good at playing a pretentious, smart ass, snob….or a precocious teen.  It’s sickening.  Enough already.

Stop being so cunty all the time. 

Lighten up.

Dismissed.