Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Trader Joe's

The sixties were a time of exploration. People were changing, drugs were getting stronger, and showering was thought of as an unnecessary ideal of the common man. The right winged republicans were put in their place and social movements were expanding from colleges to Ol’ Mr. Crabbyshack’s backyard.

And then the seventies came and bitch slapped the sixties back to the magical mushroom induced jungle it came from. It also took most of the hippies with it, centralizing what was left of the decade into the city we know as San Francisco. Slowly but surely the sixties faded... Faded but not forgotten. Nor dead.

The sixties are still alive, still kickin’ and still smelling awkward in the year 2011. The sixties are alive all right. They can be found inside Trader Joe’s.

I’d never been into a Trader Joe’s before. My mom said, “Stay Away! If you go you may not come back.” She didn’t mean literally not come back. She knew I’d come back in the physical form, but ME, who I am as a person, that wouldn’t come back. It wouldn’t come back ever.

I’m older now, wiser and not as easily influenced. I now understand what my mom meant, what she was afraid of.


Emily Smart was kidnapped and brainwashed by hippy equivalents of Charles Manson. Due to her young age and the fact that kidnappings had never once occurred in Salt Lake City, she was easily manipulated by this young couple, changed, hit upside the head by the loony bin and numerous other awful analogies. (Who the fuck kidnaps fourteen year olds? Their hands are too big for knitting, and they fit inside trunks TERRIBLY!) Emily Smart was never the same again. She began wearing flower dresses, talking about love, LCD and the ability to understand nature. She stopped eating her mom’s cooking. She suddenly preferred organic meals, vegan dishes and dare I say it, soymilk.

Emily smart became... “Trader Joe’d”

So when I had to go inside Trader Joe’s for a work related errand, you can understand the slight amount of fear that crawled into my mind. This was unexplored territory for me, a whole new world. (Aladdin reference. Suck it.)

And then I entered.

Trader Joe’s?

The first thing I noticed entering the land of Trader Joe’s was the insane amount of people. Walking down the aisles was eerily close to storming through crowds of people on a busy New York side street. I was running over elderly women, stepping on people’s feet, dancing around an army of what I think were children, but could have easily been Arabian midgets. I didn’t stop long enough to find out. I had to get my groceries and go.

Once I got to the produce it hit me. It hit me hard. This is the part of the movie where the camera shoots upward overhead, exposing me to my surroundings. Hippies. Everywhere. All around me like a zombie film. I panic. It’s not just hippies, it’s hipsters. Hipsters and smelly people. Health nuts. SHIT! Hipsters, smelly people and health nuts. I was outnumbered, worried, scared and slightly pissed. Then I stop.

“They can’t do anything to you West. They can’t do anything. They’re people. Just like you. People.”

Or are they?

People who shop at Trader Joe’s

The thirty-year-old single woman, self described as independent, wears flower dresses, thrift store scarves and shops for nuts and berries. She has an herb garden and only listens to music when she’s high. Because it’s the only time worth listening to music.

The Mom with eight kids, all weirdly overly dressed. She looks like she belongs to a polygamist community somewhere around Colorado City, Arizona. But she doesn’t. She chose this life. It’s called an “alternative” lifestyle. For when being normal just isn’t enough anymore.

Hipsters, “Straight edged” kids, and trendy trendsters. Refer to earlier blogposts for examples.

Trendy Trendsters- Can’t be referred to as hipsters and can’t be referred to as regular people. They follow trends, but kind of like how a high school kid follows trends. Like playing hacky-sack just because everyone else plays hacky-sack. Hacky-sack!

The entire band, TV On The Radio, shops at Trader Joe’s.

Weird jogger guy- You know the motherfucker. Hair tie, ponytail, jogger attire. He buys salt water and hard-boiled eggs. He also flirts, stretches and bends over in front of female patrons.

Ninety-five year olds. Grandmas of all shapes and sizes flood the store. They can’t buy regular food anymore; they can only digest organic off-brands.


Foods that I’ve heard of that Trader Joe’s sells: Vegetables.

Foods that I haven’t heard of that Trader Joe’s sells: Everything else.

Brands that I’ve heard of: None.

Off-brands that I’ve never heard of: The entire fucking store.

Apparently Trader Joes sells its own brand of shitty organic food, nuts, fruits, and vegetables. They have some kind of Trader Joe’s farm/distribution facility out in the middle of northern California somewhere. Probably Berkley.

Speaking of shitty foods

Who the fuck eats Granola? Can we eliminate granola from grocery stores? Can we just keep it inside the bars? Because I don’t know what to do with actual granola. Yogurt commercials make it seem like granola pours on top of it like sprinkles or vanilla frosting. But yogurt commercials also forgot to mention that yogurt sucks and tastes like shit. No amount of granola can make that miserable excuse for a food worth eating.

Trader Joe’s

The sixties are alive in Trader Joe’s to the point where they don’t even have conveyor systems running your groceries. (Those weren’t invented yet according to this article.) You have to wait for the person to bag your shit before you can take more food out of your cart. The employees all have eyebrow and lip piercings like it’s some kind of Trader Joe dress code. The employees also have a hard time with the simplest form of phony customer appreciation. Do I get a “Hey, how are you today?” No. I get a shrug and a disappointed look as they slowly unload my two carts full of groceries onto their six-inch "un-conveyored" counter top. That’s what you get for working at a stupid fucking grocery store. Now smile and tell me to “have a nice day” you good for nothing seventeen year-old tramp. Yes tramp. Haven’t heard that one in a while, have ya’?

Trader Joe’s blows.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Your Name Sucks

Whats in a name? Most people dont think much about it; after all were all individuals right? A name cant just sum up our existence, right? Arent we all beautiful snowflakes, too complex to bear much more than a passing similarity to each other? No. Not really. Ive noticed over the years that most of the people I see who share names are actually very similar, so similar in fact that Ive compiled a short list of names and the things Ive noticed about the people who share them, and of course the parents who named them.

Adam- Wow your parents are really original. How did they ever come up with this one?  See: Adam, Reference: The motherfucking bible

Brent/Kent/Ken- Most Brent/Kent/Kens grow up living lives of luxury, driving convertibles to Ivy League schools, sweater tied around their necks. They have an exciting life of working at their fathers law firm and basically contributing absolutely nothing to society, except for the occasional rape charge in college. (She was drunk, you were drunk, she may or may not have been awake. I get it.) Conversely, you may have a career with your local news affiliate as long as you have a catchy last name.    See: Kent Brockman, Ken (doll)

Dane- Much like Indiana Jones, your parents named you after a dog.    See: Great Dane

Dick- This is supposed to be a nickname for Richard. This is unacceptable. If you were named Richard then fucking use Richard. Or Rich. Other names that are also unacceptable include: Cock, Penis, Weiner, Johnson (as a first name), Butt Blaster, and Jimmer-Jammer. How Dick became the shortened version of Richard is beyond me. The only people, acceptably referred to as Dick, are Richards older than fifty, because theyre seniors. Im still damned sure they were made fun of thirty years ago.      See: Dick Van Dyke,  Reference: Two terrible names

Dustin- Ah, the dirty Justin. Whereas most Justins are forgettable nobodies, everyone will always remember you as the guy with the drugs. Dustins are also well known thieves and small time douchebags. Dont worry people will still put up with you as long as you have the good shit. See: Dustin Diamond

Jimbo- Far, far worse than a Jim is the Jimbo. You are probably so undereducated that you likely cant even read this article.  Ironically condoms were actually invented as a humane way to prevent people like you from breeding and youve probably never even seen one.

Jim- You likely enjoy Nascar and cold ones.

While some Jims can be almost as respectable as their cousins the Joes, most seem to have more of a country flair to them, leading to broken TVs and fleets of broken down cars and car parts sitting on their front lawns. Throw out the carburetor sitting on your daffodils and keep the furniture inside the house.

Jimmy- Grow the fuck up.

Joe- You are the backbone of America. From mechanics to diners, truckers to farmers, and teachers to sports legends Joes can be found in all walks of life. You sir are America. (See: Joe the plumber, Eat at Joes, Joe Namath, G.I. Joe)

Joey- You are a former boy band singer or Matt Leblanc the lovable scamp from TVs Friends. These are the only Joeys ever. See: Joey (Fat one) Fatone, Matt Leblanc

Justin- Youre a pretty average guy who doesnt really excel at anything, but thats ok. Im sure someone out there loves you.  See: Justin Beiber

Michael- Your parents were religious or you just think youre some kind of fancy pants. Chill the fuck out, conform, shorten your fucking name, and become a Mike already. See Michael Bolton, Michael

Mike- Ah, good old Mike. Talk about originality. The most popular American name in the past twenty years, your parents suck. Everyone knows a Mike, likely even two or three. You are never the center of attention but instead the second string guy in any situation. You are always down to hang out but never the one to do the inviting. Most people consider you to be a good friend but not their best friend. Oh well, at least nobody usually has anything negative to say about you.   See: Mike Myers, Mike Ditka

Mikey- Grow the fuck up.

Ryan- You are likely the coolest guy ever.   See: Ryan Seacrest, Ryan Reynolds.

Samuel- Few and far between. Your parents were religious or you are an American patriot/badass. Most popular quote by a Samuel in the past decade, Im tired of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!   See: Samuel Adams, Samuel L. Jackson.

Skyler- Clearly, the whitest, most suburban name EVER. Your parents grew up in Rancho Cucamonga, your parents parents grew up in Rancho Cucamonga, and you grew up in Rancho Cucamonga. You drive a truck and play on the tennis team. You use words and phrases like Killer, and Im going to ask Sarah to the winter formal. You will most likely go to state college and slowly come to the realization that everybody hates your name, but you kill them with kindness so they have trouble hating you. So you join the Ultimate Frisbee team and begin a lucrative career in hosting financial pod casts that cater to accountants and real estate agents. This is also a girls name.

Stephan- Let me guess, you study philosophy and read a lot of Faulkner. You watch really old movies, and swear to god the best actor in the fucking universe is Humphrey Bogart. It doesnt get much more pretentious than this. I actually doubt that this is your real name, likely you use it to try and schmooze with women. Button up your fucking shirt and start going by Steve.   See: Stephan (Urkel)

Walter- You were likely born around the 1920s. You use words and phrases like skirt, dame, rag-time, back in my day, and them damn pecker-heads. Are you actually using the internet? Good for you! I hope the nurses arent sifting through your wallet.   See: Walter Matthau, Walter Cronkite

By: Octopus Inc.  AKA Ryan Eldredge