Symbolic Beverage Crisis
Mr Destiny, who is, I gather, some kind of deep thinker, a moral colossus of the left, is apparently unable to make a mug of hot chocolate:
My Uber driver brought me my hot chocolate today on bike. It took 45 minutes to get here, and this is what happens as soon as I pick up the bag to bring it inside.
This is Trump’s America. pic.twitter.com/g4iBNXsQjt
— Destiny (@TheOmniLiberal) November 12, 2024
Needless to say, mockery ensues.
Update, via the comments:
Mr Destiny – aka Steven Kenneth Bonnell II – evidently felt that the moment above had some symbolic meaning, some charged political relevance. Which, I suppose, it does, in a way. Though not, I think, of the kind he imagines. In that, it merely tells us something about him.
Mags adds,
Quite. And it’s a world in which your cup of hot chocolate has its own driver.
I did briefly wonder if Mr Bonnell might be trying to make some ironic point about modernity and decadence, but that doesn’t appear to be his style at all. And even if the objective were to say, “Look at how decadent we are,” that doesn’t really work, since the more obvious message is “Look at how decadent I am…” The we being rather presumptuous.
And I suspect that many of us here manage to make it through the day, most days, without being overly decadent. Say, by not having single cups of hot chocolate needlessly delivered to our doors, seemingly on a daily basis. Or by not finding loudly announced amusement in the death of a random stranger who was trying to shield his family from gunfire during an assassination attempt on a presidential candidate.
By all means, consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
Well, it is what the left does. They’re not always that honest about it though.
On professed empathy.
Had a coworker of about the same age as Mr. Bonnell, who ordered lunch via Door Dash every single day.
Then (literally) cried about not having enough money for groceries.
This person was about 5’5″ and 300lbs, BTW.
It’s often homicidal, given that these people usually believe they will be unaffected by the policies they demand.
You could put the mug on a plate.
Also, at a push, reheating leftover Chinese food.
But nothing else.
[ Anticipates launching of galleons. ]
[ Remembers hipster crumpet shop in Seattle, where crumpets were cooked in a microwave and topped with cucumber. ]
[ Eye twitches. ]
[ Smashes priceless antique vase. ]
@David: Bear in mind that Seattle is a seaport, so you could indeed dispatch your galleons of vengeance.
But what kind of sub-moron cooks or even reheats any kind of bread in a microwave?
[ Door slams, muffled obscenities. ]
I’m a big fan of this reply:
The only time hot chocolate is appropriate for a grown man is if you just came in from sledding with your kids, or skiing with either your kids or a hot snow bunny (though in the latter case, you should really be pouring her a nice wine or brandy, but if she wants hot chocolate, you can comply. The things we do for snow bunnies.). Certain other manly outdoor winter activities can be substituted as appropriate.
Now trying to think of things the microwave in the kitchen is actually used for.
Warming plates…
Reheating leftover Chinese food…
Oh, and warming triple chocolate cookies before adding the double cream.
[ Raj Koothrappali runs out, crying. Sheldon Cooper says something erudite but irrelevant. ]
Microwaving frozen vegetables.
Heating up canned soups and stews.
[ More vase-smashing, door-slamming, muffled obscenities. ]
I’m surrounded by savages.
A-loo-min-um.
[ Orders more antique vases. ]
[ Arranges on-premises performance of The Rite of Spring. With extra Nijinsky. ]
There’s the price of drinks up again.
I’m trying to think of a way in which arranging the delivery, via Uber, of a cup of hot chocolate is somehow a more efficient use of one’s time and vast mental resources than taking 60 seconds or so to make it yourself
Basic economics. I bill $X an hour and I have much more work than can fit in a 40 hour work week. Any task that costs less than $X/hour is better outsourced to someone else. If I order DoorDash and work until it arrives, I literally make more money than if I prepare dinner myself.
if I see someone needing help, it never occurs to me to ensure their politics match mine first. Or withdraw that help when it turns out that they don’t
I don’t know about the rest of you all, but I passed that point a long time ago. The other side wants me dead or imprisoned and has been vocal about this since 2020. We need to remember the immortal words of Andrew Breitbart.
I’ll give a pass to someone like Cedric the Entertainer or Joe the Plumber because at least that’s just a factual qualifier
Surnames used to be descriptions of the family trade or region of origin. I look forward to a few generations hence, when people will be lining up in kitschy Silicon Valley tourist shops printing out the history of the names “Youtuberson” and “MacGoogle”.
Just discovered that I’ve been mentioned here. It’s all very flattering.
Apart from the author’s apparent belief that I’m Australian.
[ Waits for delivery of priceless vases to arrive. ]
Interesting boast.
He clearly doesn’t appreciate his shit getting fucked up.
Late to the party, but you could make this symbolic at a higher level. Destiny here is definitely the type to see himself as ‘designing’ the app, or perhaps running the company, rather than slinging the code or, heaven forbid, riding the bike. Most people like that have no idea how the real world will diverge from the one they’re building in their heads.
This just in:
Via Mr Treesong.
It has all the earmarks of Smollett’s “This is MAGA country!!” … Chicago at 3 am? Yeah sure.
The Left can’t meme and they certainly are unable to make up a story about the Evil Other that might ring true because all they have is cartoonish caricatures to rely on.
Steven Kenneth Bonnell II was born in Omaha, Nebraska,
Not exactly the first place that comes to mind as a centre for raising young communists.
Lesbian, married to trans “woman”, murders father with ice axe on election night.
Another lunatic provoked by liberals promoting hyperbolic paranoia about Trump?
Should we expect visitors who will appall us, or be appalled by us?
I repeat: Australian.
“This is just like The Handmaid’s Tale.”
Isn’t “Destiny” a stripper name? A female stripper to be clear.
I may have told this story before. My wife and I moved into a new house three years ago. All the trim had been completed with faux barn board. The first thing we decided upon moving in was to replace it all. The house was in a new city for us and I had to source out suppliers of baseboards, casements, etc.
I found an excellent shop with the interesting name North Pole Trim. They were excellent to deal with. Everything was done over the phone. I placed my order and the next day received a phone call. In a matter of minutes, the sales clerk, Destiny, had confirmed delivery. When I got off the phone, my wife asked what the call was all about. I said, “It was Destiny calling from the North Pole. They were about to deliver everything I ever wanted.”
A long way to go for a story, I know, but to be fair, it did involve someone named Destiny and a pole.
I repeat: Australian.
They may have mistaken that marmite stain on your tunic for vegemite.
A long way to go for a story, I know, but to be fair, it did involve someone named Destiny and a pole
There’s a general contractor business in Oakville that is staffed entirely by former strippers and pr*st*t*tes.
Do help yourself to a lime half.
On the house.
I’m tempted to ask how one comes by such information.
There’s a general contractor business in Oakville that is staffed entirely by former strippers and pr*st*t*tes.
Yes, I believe it was on the second floor of a two story commercial building on Kerr Street. It was directly above an insurance broker. The Insurance Broker later went bankrupt because, wait for it, there was too much fu*king overhead.
Do help yourself to a lime half.
You could “re-brand” those as bergamot and triple the prices.
[ Stares in Mister Ream’s direction. ]
Lunch quesadillas.
Also, re hot chocolate. Agree but you can add a shot of peppermint schnapps. Neither the kids nor the snow bunny really need to know.
There’s still time, David, to put on a slouch hat and memorize the Bruces sketch.
Doesn’t ordering the drink, waiting (with no drink), answering the door when it finally arrives and unbagging the drink take at least as much time as just making the damn thing yourself? It’s powder and hot water.
I repeat: Australian
He did say “Down Under” so you could be a Kiwi.
[ Peers overs spectacles. ]
I’m assuming it’s a status thing. Sort of, “Look at how valuable my time is, everyone.”
Even though the statusful posturing involves spending at least as much time on needless faffing about as would be required to combine the aforementioned powder and hot water. And then, eventually – after going without the drink you wanted, which you could otherwise have drunk by this point – you end up with a paper cup of chocolate that’s likely to be tepid rather than hot.
That, or it’s a man-child incompetence thing.
I’m now wondering whether Starbucks’ hot chocolate is as insipid as their coffee.
Insipid? Is that a synonym for burnt?
The last time The Other Half and I were in a Starbucks, it was a branch in the lobby of the local IMAX cinema. We had half an hour to kill and didn’t fancy waiting around in an empty cinema. After marvelling at the flavourlessness of the brown brew – barring, as you say, a hint of scorching – we decided to abandon the paper cups and head off to find our seats. Staring at a vast, blank screen seemed the better option.
They seem to make coffee, or an approximation of coffee, for people who don’t actually like coffee.