It's really quiet in the office today. I could go for a coconut iced coffee but I don't feel like going out to get one. Yesterday I was chatting with a friend from work about the killing coffee purveyors could make if they had a corporate delivery service. We were getting jazzed to write a business plan and launch it ourselves. They wouldn't even be able to keep up with the demand, especially around here... we just got a Dunkin Donuts last week. I don't get it; the area around our office is crawling with businesses and hotels and is right off I-95, yet is majorly underserved--you have to drive at least 15 to get to a Starbucks, and before now you had to go at least 7 minutes for a DD. Where I live there are 2 DDs and a *bux within walking distance.
Coffee becomes very important when you work in an all-beige office with a large picture of wheat across from you. SHEAVES OF WHEAT, and not Van Gogh's. Don't like wheat? Move down the hall and maybe you'll get snow, cacti, rolls of hay, or mountains. Z z Z Z z z Z z z ... Wuhh? Who? Sorry, wheat coma.
We're supposed to go into town for Taste of Boston on Saturday and the forecast said sunny and 70s but now they're calling for rain. Whorricane Ophelia was supposed to be out of here by then, but it's been swirling around the Carolinas for 3 days and fucking up New Englanders' plans. Maybe it will head out to sea and leave us alone. Apparently this is the 22nd Annual Taste of Boston, although I can't recall hearing anything about it until this year. It should be fun, especially when the Gin Blossoms rock the 93.7 Mike FM stage. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of Bostonians will throw their fists in the air and sing along with "Hey Jealousy" and then some dipshit will go, "Play 'Mr. Jones'!" and they'll be like, "That's Counting Crows, you dumb motherfucker."
Coffee becomes very important when you work in an all-beige office with a large picture of wheat across from you. SHEAVES OF WHEAT, and not Van Gogh's. Don't like wheat? Move down the hall and maybe you'll get snow, cacti, rolls of hay, or mountains. Z z Z Z z z Z z z ... Wuhh? Who? Sorry, wheat coma.
We're supposed to go into town for Taste of Boston on Saturday and the forecast said sunny and 70s but now they're calling for rain. Whorricane Ophelia was supposed to be out of here by then, but it's been swirling around the Carolinas for 3 days and fucking up New Englanders' plans. Maybe it will head out to sea and leave us alone. Apparently this is the 22nd Annual Taste of Boston, although I can't recall hearing anything about it until this year. It should be fun, especially when the Gin Blossoms rock the 93.7 Mike FM stage. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of Bostonians will throw their fists in the air and sing along with "Hey Jealousy" and then some dipshit will go, "Play 'Mr. Jones'!" and they'll be like, "That's Counting Crows, you dumb motherfucker."
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