But if we stop drinking coffee…  What will that do to the environment? Suddenly, Starbucks is precariously perched on the brink of bankruptcy… Hundreds of thousands of workers are faced with losing their jobs. Tens of thousands of Brazilian coffee bean field workers will riot in the streets because they will no longer be making 4 pesos a day. The chaos in Brazil will undoubtedly spark wild fires that will burn large portions of the Amazonian Rain Forests!

Viva La Revolution!!!

Without these rain forests, CO2 will sky rocket and suddenly global warming is no longer an Al Gore Revival meeting, but the real deal. Ice caps melt, New York is flooded, California is gone, the markets collapse, the country is purchased for 4 dollars and some canned peas, every American learns Chinese within the year. Americans revolt and one crazed military official pushes “the button” rather than live under oppressive, foreign rule. I mean, we are AMERICANS, right? We should be doing the oppressive foreign ruling. And then, BAM. Nuclear winter…

We need to save the world and go to Starbucks.

Because we don’t want the nuclear winter. I mean… I know I am busy and all but I think I can take 5 minutes out of my day to buy a mocha. To save the world.

And maybe we’ll get our names on a plaque.

© Brad Matheson/Matt Swaffer, 2009

[others]

Like that time your mom asked me if I needed a glass of water
And I said, “Sure, I’d love some”

And she goes, “I bet you would!”

Because I was all sweaty
And you were still naked.

I had no idea how versatile and useful your product was

What was it called again? Cotton?

What the fuck is that? I’m glad you are advertising it.

I think this should be the standard for best friends in the event of someone’s death, and will be a great honor. I promise now and forever, not to judge a dead friend for any weird fetish they had, or any creepy self-taken nude pictures left behind.

In conclusion, if I name you in my secret will at any point, you will be held responsible and accountable for the affairs of my estate to be taken care of. Be honored. And don’t forget the magazines.

when you scream “I HATE YOU”

I hear something more like “I LOVE YOU BUT CAN’T ADMIT IT”

and that’s why I smile.

Not because I’m a dick.

You take that back.

© Shannon Peil, 2009

[others]

For having you here.

For being able to tell you all my secrets.

For nuzzling my neck when I wake up.

For keeping the bed warm, for laying a leg across me.

It’s just too bad that you are a cat.

© Shannon Peil, 2009

[others]

I had just kicked a puppy

Like I had done something so awful

To something that truly didn’t deserve it.

But it was barking so loud.

© Shannon Peil, 2009

[others]

Just yesterday I pushed the growing stack of bills off my slimming stack of ladies magazines, and kablow! Right there on the cover in big bold letters, the magazine told me, “STAY SKINNY”. My first thought was that 65.2% of Americans don’t have any idea what this magazine is talking about since we are already overweight. And my second was, “Fuck them. I look fine just the way I am.” But sadly, my third thought was to look up the page number and find out exactly how to “stay skinny”. Unsurprisingly, the secret was a combination of diet and exercise. Tips, that again can only be blocked out by thick cave walls.

I hope you don’t mind if I speak for us non-cave-dwellers, but personally I’m sick of being told what to do by a bunch of skinny bitches. We are the majority. We have the power, but these days I’m afraid the only way for us to exert our power is to sit on our opponents. Still I wonder, how did so many of us end up as fat asses?

There must be a reason why we are all packing on the pounds. Could it be the dissolution of freedom and commitment that this country and planet once had. Uh… no. Could it be the crippling self-hatred spawned by the media’s idea of perfection? I still don’t think so. Maybe it’s the huge availability and affordability of 2000 calorie, orgasmic meals. Closer. It must be the combination. A dying country and planet inhabited by people who eat happiness at McDonalds because they are crippled by self hatred. Yeah, that about sums it up.

But if we keep sitting on our fat asses, they are just gonna get fatter. Not cause we’re sitting, but because America is force feeding us something akin to butter wrapped in bacon, dipped in chocolate, and the effort it will take to change that into apples and oranges is akin to an triathlon, followed by a boxing match, followed by Forest Gump’s idea of “running”. But until we can change the way America treats its pets (and by pets I mean us), I recommend using those asses to make changes that actually encourage people to be healthy and happy, and not just “skinny”.

© Tchiki Davis, 2009

[others]

We were going to paint our house neon green

And all our friends were going to live there

And the living room was a ball pit.

Remember the kitchen was going to have 2 refrigerators? Just because?

And I told you it’d be cool if there was a fully sealed shower box

So that you could fill it up and hang out in a scuba suit.

You were going to put a slide in, next to all the stairs

And I wanted a room in the center of the house to be a jungle.

Like a real one.

How could you not remember?

The floors were going to be trampolines, with padded walls

And bubble machines on every ceiling, oh man.

And the whole house would be in a tree.

Don’t you remember?

What the hell, man. Your house is nothing like that.

© Shannon Peil, 2009

[others]

Next time these people ask you, “How’s it going?”

Actually tell them. They deserve the truth. And maybe next time they won’t bother asking you.

Probably because you are depressing and don’t understand social etiquette very well.

© Shannon Peil, 2009

[others]