Entries in food (97)
What kind of grown man wants cookies and milk over alcohol and cigarettes? A WEIRD ONE. Listen—we all know that Santa doesn't want your bullshit milk and your bullshit cookies. If you spent all night flying all over the world delivering presents BY YOURSELF, you'd want a nice cold beer, not a goddamned glass of milk that's probably curdled because little Cindy Loo Who put it on the fireplace 6 hours ago.
That's why this Santa's Private Reserve Beer Briefcase ($75, Give Them Beer) is perfect to leave out for Santa this year. And, since mom and dad end up eating the cookies and drinking the milk to carry on the lie that they've told their children, they will absolutely love to play Santa and drink this stuff after a long night of wrapping presents that they get zero credit for buying. Thanks, Santa.
If you are an adult, it's almost guaranteed that you're addicted to caffeine. Being an adult (or, as the kids say it #adulting) is exhausting, and since it's not socially acceptable to drink alcohol all day long, we spend hours each day sipping on a steady stream of caffeine to keep us awake and functioning, typically in the form of coffee. So, if we're all addicted to coffee, what's the difference between a true coffee addict and everyone else that's just trying to get through the day?
It's all about consumption, baby. Normal people have maybe two or three cups of coffee a day. Coffee addicts have an indeterminable amount of cups of coffee a day—and it's "indeterminable" only because coffee addicts know they shouldn't have 10 cups of coffee a day so they won't cop to it. Normal people are okay with getting their caffeine from other sources (tea, soda, energy drinks, etc), but coffee addicts are content with coffee and only coffee, til the day their hearts explode.
So, for the jittery people in our lives, we've rounded up the best coffee-centric products out there. Read it on Parade.
For every 100 people who introduce themselves at cocktail parties as "a writer," maybe 3 of them actually make a living doing it. I could say I'm a writer, I guess, but I really make my living at my day job, in marketing (my fiance still likes to tell people I'm a writer because it sounds sexier, though).
Even people who have found a way to make writing their actual profession—working at magazines and newspapers—typically end up being editors, while freelance hacks grind out the actual articles editors assign to them. Ask someone who holds an editor title what they miss the most and they'll all say, "I miss writing."
And look, it's hard being a writer. If you're a novelist, you have to create something from literally nothing. If you're a reporter, you have to make people's lives and shitty quotes sound interesting and compelling. If you're a blogger, you have to find a way to make someone click on an article about gravy boats. It's hard.
Know a writer? Get them this Writer's Tears Whiskey ($102, Masters of Malt) and laugh and laugh as they pretend that they didn't dream of a different life for themselves, one where their manuscript wasn't rejected by 30 different publishers. Pour one out.
When you first moved to a big city after college, you had absolutely no problem throwing a huge amount of money away everyday at your favorite local coffee shop. Your hipster transformation began as soon as you rejected Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts as too pedestrian, in favor of more expensive, fair trade mocha loca choca concoctions.
"I am a cool city person now," you'd say to yourself every morning, handing over money you didn't have for a $6 latte. Suddenly, you were wearing more and more flannel. You were wearing "fashionable" glasses that were once worn only by child molesters. Then you moved into your late 20s and realized that you have been working for almost 10 years and have no savings. Your hipster coffee addiction (as well as other nighttime vices) has cost you any semblance of a nest egg you might have had if you just drank the brown sludge they gave you for free at work.
You decide to tighten the belt to start saving the money you should have been saving all along. You look yourself squarely in the mirror and say, "Hey! No more fancy coffees, you spoiled asshole! You need to make your own coffee at home and take it to work in a travel mug like every other suburban loser!"
BUT, just because you've decided to be more economical and make your coffee at home doesn't mean you have to sacrifice taste. You can get yourself a Rhetoric Coffee Subscription (starts at $15 per month) that delivers fresh, unique roasts directly to your door each month. Bonus: each bag is screen-printed with an original piece of art commissioned from comic book artists. You might not be able to go to your hipster coffee shop anymore, but original comic book artwork on the bag of beans you're going to brew at home is pretty damn obnoxious (slash awesome), right?