Caffeine junkies are funny. I mean, think about the many faces of this addiction:
Diet Coke – Probably the most generic of the group; you’ll often see them down a six-pack in one day. Apparently they have a cult – maybe I should take back generic…
Coffee – Jittery; they may not acknowledge your existence until their second cup of the day.
Sugarfree Red Bull - Skinny; girls (and increasingly guys) that skip meals and depend on SF RB to avoid collapsing in the street (which is totally awkward btw). Weren’t you wondering how LC got so skinny?
Regular Red Bull – Aging frat boys; hang out in douchey bars and drink it with Grey Goose.
Monster – Poor; they aspire to be R RB drinkers.
Surge/Mountain Dew/Mello Yello/any other soda containing Yellow 5 – Aggravated; often seen chugging and talking about extreme sports. ***btw, what ever happened to the 90’s Yellow 5 myth? Any experience I’ve had with said group only confirms the rumor***
Bawls – I don’t know anyone that drinks this, but I’m told they play a lot of video games.
So, this of course brings us to my caffeine beverage of choice (which of course I will also rudely stereotype)
Cocaine – Wannabe badass; they enjoy likening ’swigs’ to ‘bumps’ and love that the drink comes in three flavors – ‘regular’, ‘cut’ and ‘free’. Potentially dangerously over-caffeinated.
Arghhhh! I just went to login to Twitter, and was greeted with this little nugget above. First off, where is the Fail Whale? Perhaps he ran off with the Technorati Monster? The bigger question of course is why sites think that using cute, whimsical characters will lessen the blow when visitors find their site down.
It’s got me thinking, however… While it doesn’t make me any less angry, maybe others feel differently… after all, who can blame a silly little whale?
So, here’s me testing out the theory:
Dear John
It has been great spending the past 5 years of my life with you. I was beyond thrilled when you proposed in front of everyone at the Yankees game yesterday. However, as much as I care for you, I’ve been sleeping with your best friend Dan. I’m pregnant. And it’s not yours.
But anyway, how adorable are these puppies? Omg, what a little pack of precious furballs wrapped up in cuteness! Gifts from heaven, that is what they are!
I know I have been MIA lately, but I have a good excuse, really I do! Here’s a quick run-down.
Faint in the street in Soho, awkward crowd assembles around me. I overhear “OMG, she’s breathing!” and a scruffy looking man asks if I have had too much to drink.
Ambulance arrives, EMT wants to know why my pupils are so big. Realizes when I faint again that I’m not just having a bad trip.
Downtown New York Hospital, lots of tests, lots of prodding, rude doctors. I check myself out against their advice, pick up some hummus and go home to watch Entourage.
——————————–
The Tilt Table Test is nowhere near as fun as this kid makes it look.
Follow up with GP called Dr. Champagne. He apologizes for his casual attire, he likes to dress down on Saturdays. Refers me to see a cardiologist.
More tests. I am the youngest person in the office by 30 years. I overhear the doctor referring to me as “the young girl.”
Cardiologist is perplexed, orders a Tilt Table Test. I get strapped in. Blood pressure drops but I don’t faint. They put nitroglycerin under my tongue. I faint and dream like I’m tripping.
I have Vasovagal Syncope, i.e. faint when I am upset, see blood, get strapped to a table and suspended at a 70 degree angle. EKG is slightly abnormal too, need to test for Brugada Syndrome.
Beth Israel Cardiac Intervention Dept, this time I am the youngest by 40 years. Get prepped and draw blood, I faint again. The man on the other side of the curtain pees all over, including on the doctor in black ninja scrubs.
Doctor says he is giving me a drug that will cause my heart to go into a erratic rhythm if I have Brugada. He makes me sign a waiver and starts the drip. I wait. Nothing happens. He says I’m fine and gives me some orange juice. I eat french fries for lunch and go back to work.
A little grammar fail to close out your Friday… this little nugget was a targeted Facebook ad that came up on my profile the other day:
So they’re seeking a real smart AE, huh? I wonder if they got fed up with getting applications from all those fake smart AE’s? Send this one to the Fail Blog please!
Refers to the numerous personal crises brought on by entering adulthood and being expected to become a responsible, productive member of society. Characterized by first gray hairs/wrinkles, excessive drinking, hanging out with people who are younger in order to feel younger again only to end up looking creepy, extreme fear of all of these things. -Urban Dictionary
I’m 24 today and I’ve never had more desire than ever to regress a few years. Anyone down for some Tenacious D and Key Light beer pong?
It’s no secret that I love me some fail, so my friend Jake shared this little nugget that he stumbled upon in his doctor’s office.
Seems cute, right?… Nice little calendar provided by some New York public health initiative – from the looks of it, it probably even involved a coloring contest!
Let’s zoom in a bit on this little work of art… Wait? Who’s that little guy dancing around there?
Uh oh. And there’s more.
I think the asthma issue that this campaign addresses may be the least of our worries.
Anniversary Week is still on, so i thought I’d keep the ball rolling with a little comparative analysis. [note: Anniversary Week is not to be confused with Shark Week, which is running simultaneously this week and also aims to bore the living hell out of people]
Traffic on the Kwinana Freeway is heavy southbound from the city through to Mill Point Road. Main Roads reports that after that, the run is good until the end of the freeway…
This month, buses began rolling out wearing an advertising wrap from bumper to bumper. 4 Bears Casino in New Town purchased wrap advertising for four buses. Two currently are on the streets and a third will soon join them…
“We are excited about it,” Dan Jonasson, assistant public works director for Minot, said. “I am hoping we can maybe do our garbage trucks.”
The day after a video emerged of a cop knocking a cyclist to the ground, a second tape surfaced yesterday, showing an NYPD officer whaling away at a man’s legs with a baton…
this week marks the 1 year anniversary of my return to US soil, so i think it makes sense to do a VH1-esque year in review [in a nice little keynote chart... omg, iWork rules my life]
ABOUT YOU:
You are a young and good-looking girl. The parental abuse that you incurred as a child has left you emotionally distant and sexually repressed. You are able to sustain months (years?) of loneliness because you shudder at the thought of human interaction. You have a constant feeling of inadequacy leading to excessive hours on the elliptical machine (and, accordingly, a nicely toned bum). I might do stuff to you while you are sleeping at 4AM (when I finally get home from the office), but, other than that, our sex-life will be nonexistent. Naive girls who have been in long-distance relationships and have had their hearts broken by guys who perpetually cheated are more than welcome to email me; I promise that I’m different.
ABOUT ME:
I am a first year analyst at a bulge-bracket investment bank; this means that I’m either Jewish, Asian, or from old-money (and, therefore, connected up the wazoo). Given that this post is (hopefully) grammatically correct, coherently legible, and satirically palatable, I’d like to think that I got into banking based on merits associated with my intelligence; therefore, I’m probably not from old money and am not connected up the wazoo (sorry).
I got into banking as a result of an overwhelming abundance of insecurities. I went to a top-tiered and prestigious undergraduate university, yet, have always felt inferior to the Harvardites and Princetonians that surround me. I’m likely either short and socially outcasted (with excellent kung-fu skills) or schnoz-nosed and unable to date, as every girl I meet in Manhattan is a UES slut that reminds me of my mother.
I go to the gym every morning, as my unnecessarily ambitious and secretively compensating type-A personality forces me to always strive for the best. That, and also the endorphins released from the exercise keep me elated enough to prevent attempting suicide for at least 24 hours. [more]
my, what a difference a year makes.
