D**k juice

7 Aug
I guess you could say I’m a glutton for punishment.

And in case you aren’t familiar with Granny Dorothy Jean’s saying (and lots of other mamas and grandmama’s out there in the world), that means I keep doing the same stupid thing over and over again, punishing myself, instead of doing something different and smarter.

Like for instance, at a rugby party, I ran into the glass not, once, not twice, but three times. That’s right, faithful readers. I managed to run into a glass door full on three times and still retain enough brain power to write this blog.

But let me tell you what happened. No one saw the first two times, thank goodness. Each of those happened heading back outside after one of my many potty breaks. When I came inside, the door was open. And when I went back out, it appeared open, but really was just the product of a wonderful cleaning job by the lady of the house. The second time, there really was no excuse. You could still see a little bit of the forehead print I must have missed during my embarrassed, but furious wiping. As I said, no one caught me.

Now the THIRD time really isn’t my fault.

I was talking to somebody in that animated way that I do, hands a flying, head a bobbing, you know. And I’m gabbing away and whipped my head around just a moment too late – or too soon, depending on what perspective you decide to take. Really, someone could have fucking warned me.

This time, it wasn’t just my forehead or my nose. I got my whole damn face pressed into the glass that time. Chin and ALL! You know, I never understood the cartoons with the little birdies pirouetting in circles after a serious blow to the head until that day. My head was spinning for the rest of the night.

Needless to say, I learned my lesson. I did not run into that damn door ever again. I provided hours and days of entertainment to my friends, I’m sure, but all I got out of it was a pounding headache and an excuse to drink more.

I guess you could say sometimes it takes me a few times before I get it. Like going to Xoom Juice. Now, I know you’re asking, why would the smoothie queen be going to Xoom Juice?

Well, it’s simple actually. My blender is in the sink and I have no dishwashing liquid. That’s what I get for shopping at Dollar Days. Anyway…

I needed to run out this morning and go to Costco before it got to late, and so I stopped at Xoom Juice on the way. I should get this out of the way, and explain that the following rant has nothing to do with the quality of the juices over at Xoom Juice. My smoothie today was adequate, though I think it was grittier and less tasty than anything I’ve ever made at home, but that’ll teach me. And if you don’t make your smoothies at home, that’ll teach you too.

No, my beef today is with the owner who works at Xoom Juice. And this is why I am a glutton for punishment. Every single time I have gone into that place and he has been there I have had a bad experience. He’s a jerk. Plain and simple. Rude, rude, jerk. I see him, I should just turn around and walk out the door. But I do not. Silly me.

Not only am I never acknowledged when I go there, he is unfriendly. And he was plenty friendly with the customer before me. Was it my stench? Did he not appreciate my haphazardly thrown together side ponytail? What? Today, he not only semi-slammed my money on the counter while I was standing there with my hand held out, he threw a punch card on the counter as if to say, “Here, take this shit and get out.”

Food just tastes so disgusting when it’s made in shitty hands. I know this. I won’t even cook if I’m upset. I should never eat from the hands of someone with bad energy. Hello, L!!? Jeez.

I get it, I get it. No more gluttony. From here on out, I will never again give my business to the dick head who owns the Xoom Juice over on Speedway Boulevard. I will be making my green smoothies and protein-induced creations here in the sanctity of my good energy giving home. My smoothies taste much better anyway. And they’re made with love, not dick juice.


One Response to “D**k juice”


  1. And So It Shall Be Named: Mock Tuna Salad | The Ginger Baby Reviews - March 19, 2013

    […] So when I came across the food blog, “Yeah, That ‘Vegan’ Shit” I thought, holy hell, this person has hit on name gold! Why didn’t I think of that?! Well, because I didn’t. Because I’m obsessed with ginger. Because my cutesy side generally outweighs my nerdy badass. And because I save my obscenities for talking about Dick Juice. […]

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