| rev:text
| - ***Kiddos, if you're reading this right now, take if from me, you're gonna want to go visit the Hannah Montana website or check out the new dirt on that Zoe 101 star who got knocked up by her producer or some such nonsense because that's a hell of a lot more wholesome that what's about to follow. But if you want to learn a new curse word or two to awe your peers on the playground, keep reading. Who am I kidding? Kids don't read any more. There aren't enough flashy graphics on this page to keep the interest of those ADHD spider monkeys. So with that in mind...
I don't usually write reviews about chain establishments, but I've got a big glass of hater-ade (venti nonfat whothefuckknows) at my side this morning and I just gotta unleash the fury before it implodes and consumes me.
Ahem.
Fuck Starbucks.
Fuck them and the flea ridden ass they trotted in on.
By some twist of fate, probably engineered by Loki, I ended up with forty dollars in gift cards to this black hole of mass consumerism and corporate greed. But far be it from me to let free money go to waste, so I've been dashing in the past few days to burn these credits as fast as plastic trees can burn. The past three visits have reinforced everything I've come to know and hate about this piss poor chain of mediocre, overpriced coffee, distilling my hatred into a seething mass of vile, putrid ichors that have accumulated somewhere in the region of my appendix. I'm in a dark, dark place right now folks.
Fuck the pretentious pidgin Italian that's the closest suburban soccer moms are ever going to get to that European vacation. Tall? Venti? Grande? I'll take a fucking medium, douchetard.
Fuck the burnt beans that leave the acrid taste of corporate semen in the back of your throat. Open up wide because they're about to unload right into your willing and waiting mouth, and you're going to pay them to do it.
Fuck the people that order a grande half-caf nonfat pumpkin spice cappuccino, dry, extra hot, two pumps white chocolate, one pump sugarfree hazelnut. Translation: You're an asshat and I'm late for work, so get your five hundred calorie monstrosity out of my fucking way before I "accidentally" knock it all over your god damn pumps, you frigid bitch. The amount of time it takes you to order your drink at Starbucks is proportionate to what a demanding, micromanaging cuntbucket you must be in real life. It's fucking coffee. Like fucking Taco Bell, there are only so many ingredients they can mix and match to create new and zany combinations. Add espresso, cut with a mixer, add syrup. Presto chango. You have an eight dollar cup of joe.
Fuck the people that hang out at Starbucks too. This morning the fucking place was packed wall to wall with affluent suburbanites in their business casual reading newspapers, playing on their laptops and sipping shitty coffee. You've gotta have some place better to be. No? Really? Your life is so dull and predictable that Starbucks is the hippest most happening place you can think of to waste an extra half an hour of prime snooze time? You know what, I can't even rip on you. That's depressing. You're spiraling downward in a haze of bitter java, suffocated by the oppressive blanket of corporate familiarity and clonelike oneness. I'll let you reside in your little coffee coffin a bit longer, free of ridicule. Unless you're the bastard with a ten part order. Then the gloves come back off.
And fuck the stale baked goods and prepackaged luncheon fare at Starbucks. I had a bagel. It was hard as a rock and dryer than your mom's...I'm gonna censor that one. I had an overpriced fruit and cheese plate. Mealy apples and cheddar atop a bed of lettuce, with a wedge of brie to show you they're 'gourmet.' Suckfest. Breakfast sandwiches that I'm sure must have been display models because they bared an eerie resemblance to rubber, cardboard and sawdust. Industrial, mmm. I've also had the donuts. How on earth do you fuck up a donut?! Somehow they managed. Sensing a trend here? Cuz I'm just about beating you over the head with it. Everything offered at Starbucks is the same shit you can get at Circle K for half the price, except it's wrapped in a shiny plastic package and distributed en masse to the overweight gullets of Americans everywhere.
Know what the kicker is?
I had to manually add this location.
Five fucking pages of Starbucks locations in the Greater Phoenix Metro Area and I had to go and add another.
So fuck Starbucks.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)
![[cxml]](/fct/images/cxml_doc.png)
![[csv]](/fct/images/csv_doc.png)
![[text]](/fct/images/ntriples_doc.png)
![[turtle]](/fct/images/n3turtle_doc.png)
![[ld+json]](/fct/images/jsonld_doc.png)
![[rdf+json]](/fct/images/json_doc.png)
![[rdf+xml]](/fct/images/xml_doc.png)
![[atom+xml]](/fct/images/atom_doc.png)
![[html]](/fct/images/html_doc.png)