So I stopped at Quick Trip yesterday morning and just had to buy this:
I don’t know why, it was just one of those weird compulsions I am affected by sometimes. Now it has so consumed me that I’m going to write a fucking article about it.
I wasn’t entirely sure what it’s function was when I purchased it, but I knew it did something because it had one of those little slots in the back with a plastic tab in it so the batteries won’t drain.
This was clearly a three dollar mystery that would have to be solved. I bought my coffee (*) and my new keychain and got back in the car to continue on to another awesome day at work.
Somehow I overlooked the little holes under his belt at first. Once I saw them I figured he was going to blink or light up or something.
I was sorely unprepared for what happened:
First of all, why twice?
Next – why that awful, high-pitched voice? Is it actually the baby snowman singing to Santa?
After discovering that, I inspected this little bauble more closely and was – and still am – disturbed at what I found.
Why do the lights come from… there? Does Santa have a mangina, a la Old Gregg?
Santa has these soulless, beady little eyes. Like a shark’s. He does not look one fucking little bit jolly. He looks like he wants to devour your heart.
I find the star at the end of his cap troubling. That should be a cheery, white puffball. The star seems to denote affiliation with a sinister cabal, perhaps the Illuminati. Is this Santa keychain a brainwashing tool?
Then there’s the item Santa is clutching in his right arm. At first glance it appears to be a tiny snowman. Upon closer inspection deeper horrors are revealed. This is no infant snow person, this is some sort of giant maggot. Just look at the single segment below the head. That green thing encircling its neck? A scarf? No – that’s Santa’s restraining mechanism to keep this little monstrosity in check. You doubt me? Look at its face – that’s all mouth.
I had originally bought this as an extra stocking stuffer for Lil’ Troublemaker. Now I think I’m going to have to destroy it before I get home.
* This was going to be in the parentheses but I find I have an unusual amount to say about coffee at the moment.
I am not a big coffee drinker, but I find if you get a 50/50 mix of Quick Trip’s French Vanilla cappuccino and regular coffee it’s pretty delicious. The reason I bring this up is that due to my 12 hour work shifts I find that I need about one cup of coffee per shift to make it. My workplace provides us with coffee from a company called Community. Their product is so singularly distinctive that I’m not sure I can do its flavor justice here, but I’m going to give it my best.
Community Coffee’s coffee tastes like… well… imagine if somebody gave you a cup of burned hot chocolate with a cigarette butt in it. And now try to imagine something that doesn’t taste quite as good as that.
Community Coffee makes the worst fucking coffee I have ever had in my life. I can’t imagine why anybody with taste buds and an ounce of human compassion would supply his swill to their workplace. It is so gross. We have two varieties, Dark Roast and Café Express; or - as I like to call them – Disgusting and Slightly Less Disgusting.
So anyway, every once in awhile I’ll stop at Quick Trip on the way in to work and treat myself to coffee that doesn’t taste like burning skunks. I don’t do it often because I don’t want my palate thinking it should receive better treatment.
So that’s my views on coffee.
Until next time, stay jolly