Had an interesting morning yesterday, you guys.
As I do, I came down to my local coffee shop to toil over this here daily rundown of links and asshattery. I focused, dived in, and after getting there just after the shop opened, got out a bit prior to 7am. Good, quality, highly-productive Monday morning. Big fan of that stuff.
When I’d arrived, the shop had just opened, and had not switched on their credit card machine yet. So, long story short, they couldn’t ring me up for my coffee. What am I supposed to do, use cash? That’s for drugs and tamales on Federal, not for coffee in Wash Park. PRIORITIES.
Anyway, that didn’t sit right with me, and when I was finished writing I headed back up to the counter to settle up with my barista, who we’ll call Kelly (mostly because I can’t remember her name. I am an asshole). I waited until she was mostly done serving folks, and stepped right up, got out my wallet and waited for her to return to the cash register. She was making a couple drinks and told me not to worry, that my Americano was on her today and that I should have a nice day. I wasn’t expecting this, and used $5 of the aforementioned drug/tamale money to put in the tip can. I am a nice guy.
As I drifted towards the door, a postman got all huffy with me. “ExCUSE me,” he said from behind his ridiculous beard. “That’s what you say. ExCUSE me.” He then proceeded to unload on “Kelly” about how the only thing missing from his morning was “civility.” Apparently, he’d been staring intently at the pastry case like a a crackhead stares at a vial, and I’d dare to move quickly past him towards the door. I guess I ruined his flow, or that he was getting all tantric/intimate with the vegan donuts. For THAT offense, I was called “uncivil.” By a POSTman, you guys.
Postmen shoot people because they’re mentally unhinged dipshits who couldn’t get a better job and work for a dying government entity that nobody uses because it’s nearly completely obsolete, but I’M uncivil.
I wished him good luck with his “civility” before leaving, then told him I had to go continue killing the post office by sending email all day long and paying my bills online. Now I sit in my usual place, wearing a bright red Liverpool shirt and the same Red Sox cap I wore yesterday, in full view of the door and the counter. I hope he says something.
I am a bit of a dick. On to the links:
The Bunk and I gathered at my place last night to watch The Newsroom, the new Aaron Sorkin drama about Libruls pretending to be Consurvativs who talk too long and often and pontificate to one another as if they were holding court. It actually wasn’t bad, but it’s not really all that different from other Sorkin shows or movies. Lots of walk and talk. Lots of interrupting each other with funny asides. And then this supercut of Aaron Sorkin’s repeated use of certain phrases started making more sense. Check back later today for something resembling a review of the new programme.
Sheldon Adelson: Dickbag, fuckstain, hijacker of elections. But why would this rich asshole want to drop millions and millions of dollars on the campaign for a guy he doesn’t really like? This is why. Folks, when one person spends that much money to influence you to vote for someone he doesn’t even like, do you honestly think that he’s doing so because he wants YOUR life to be better? Gonna need you to put on your thinking caps — if you’re in the south, you’ll finally give it some use — for that one.
Can women have it all? High-powered career, children, family, vanguard of the feminist class? The Atlantic has an extremely long but extremely worthwhile (sounds familiar) read on the subject. As the only son of a single mother who was both a good mother and a highly placed executive with a multinational airline, then later a law student, then later an attorney, I feel like the answer is “yes,” but I’m also quite certain it was a challenge much of the time.
[Ed. Note: Next week will be Ladies Week on the Daily Dickpunch. Two reasons: 1. Magic Sam will be out of town, and 2. The Bunk has guests coming in. So for the first time ever in the history of ever, we will be turning over control to Can I Be Frank?, Mlle. Gottbach and other assorted henchwomen with whom we have a quality relationship. If you're interested in submitting for Ladies Week -- like Ladies Night, for a whole week! -- hit us up via email (Publius1981 at Gmail dot com) or on our Facebook page and be ready to submit your best content for Queen and Country.]
No link, but it was revealed today that the Denver Broncos and Peyton Motherfucking Manning start training camp 30 days from today. And since the only other sport going on is baseball until the olympics — fucking abysmal, offal baseball — this section of the Cockpunch is likely going away until such time as the Rockies manage to win 3 in a row or that inevitable moment when Brandon Marshall beats up his wife (again).
Happy Tuesday, muhhhfuckas. Be excellent and civil to one another.