I really appreciate how Dunkin Donuts encourages their patrons to share various Dunkin-related stories. Historically it’s always worked out well for me (see here and here) and I’m glad that the organization cares so much about my welfare and general habits to inquire about #mydunkin.
My story involves being an office temp at a job where I get to watch the full-time employees enjoy perks such as the boss bringing in a cardboard gallon of Dunkin Donuts coffee for them. And after, when the full-time employees are throwing a party with a specific note on the door that says “FULL-TIME EMPLOYEES ONLY” I decided to take several of the unused Dunkin cups, go into the secret party room filled with food and paid sick leave, and filled them with mac n cheese. So I guess #mydunkin involves pilfering food and cups from my office superiors and hiding at my temporary desk while eating it.
#mydunkin arrives in my tummy through swindling and shame
I also stole the spoon
Am I right, or what?
There are few things better than when Ma$e and Puffy used to collaborate in shiny suits. But much like them, “can’t nobody hold me down,” especially in relation to the good things in life.
But my latest creation is better than Ma$e and Puff. It’s better than everything.
I don’t know if good things existed before this. Good things didn’t exist before this
BOW TO ME, INTERNET
What a great way to start August – with a fan fiction of failure. This one truly speaks to the dickish nature of a smug Fred Jones. For your listening pleasure:
One is the Deadliest Number
VO by Joanna
story by You Life
art by the Law Offices of Van Noss²
Daphne’s hand tightened around the handle, the blade hidden behind her back.
“Jinkies!…you feeling alright?” Velma’s hesitant voice echoed down the hall.
She cleared her throat trying to sound calm, “Totally Velm. Just…just looking for that over-sized magnifying glass.”
“Oh okay. Shaggy and I are going to take Scoobs out for a walk. That might make you feel better.”
Damn that Fred! Everyone knew.
“Thanks, maybe later.”
She waited till Velma walked away. That cravat wearing mother fucker must have told everyone about them before she got up.
“I like you Daphne. It’s just that I need someone smarter than you.”
No one uses Daphne Danger and gets away with it. Who needs brains when you have a blade?
The poster of Tesla outside Fred’s door infuriated Daphne. She knocked her fist against the scientist’s judge-y face. Fred opened the door and Daphne greeted him with the business end of her knife.
Meaning she killed him.
Joanna is a vocal goddess
Van Noss is a grumpy mantalope
No garbage can is safe from me. People throw away a shocking amount of very cool things. While I don’t endlessly route around in pails of garbage, rifling through old food and cat liter, I have been known to dumpster dive from time to time. And, often times, I find freaking awesome things.
Even more importantly, when people come over to my apartment they are stunned to see some of my, perceived, achievements. This week I have been gifted the ability to, now, be a champion bowler. Go ME! Go GARBAGE!
You Life has been in mourning since leap year. The Monkees were an integral part of my development and are, most likely, why I am the way I am today (the good parts of me, not the parts that get confused for a homeless person).
And while it might seem unusual for a twenty-something to be so effected by this loss, I can confidently say that many life decisions I have made are because of the Monkees.
It explains my relationships
It shouldn’t matter that I was always a Peter fan:
I am taking the Davy news EXTREMELY hard. It has manifested, mostly, in crying and listening to “Daydream Believer” on an endless, tear stained, loop.
Also, it might have manisfested in spending an entire day at work making this. You Life never claimed they were an artist, but their love is true
Whenever I need to make a decision between two women, I will heed Davy’s sage advice: