Angry Daryl is Green (Party) with Anger...

By: Daryl

As many of you know, because I endlessly blather to you about it lest you forget, I am active with the Green Party. Why? Because I can count to 3, and 3 > 2. Neener. 

Always wanting to learn about new campaign tactics, strategies, and meet fellow Greenies, I was happy to hear that the Maryland Green Party, in concert with the Green Party of the United States, was offering Campaign Training at the Green Party national headquarters in District of Columbia. The information was in an email that had been forwarded to me. And that was when I noticed something odd.

There was no RSVP instructions. It wasn't a Facebook event, or a Meetup, or an Evite, or any sort of meeting where they had any idea who might be showing up. "Oh you silly Greens," I thought "with your plan shit by the seat of your pants because planning is hard and doing things withou a plan is just a pants-pooping good time." The meeting was scheduled to start at 8:30am on Saturday January 21st.

What could possible go wrong?

Oh John....you had such lovely hair....

Good question, John Huntsman! I'll tell you what went wrong. The greater DC area received NEARLY AN ENTIRE INCH OF SNOW. SNOW, I TELL YOU! AN INCH!  Being a savvy guy, I wondered if this might impact my Green Party campaign training even. Check email: no updates. Check national Green Party website: no updates. Check Maryland Green Party website: no updates. Call Green Party HQ: no updated voicemail. So I hopped into my Prius (now with extra eco-smugness) and drove off to GPHQ nestled in the Takoma Park neighborhood of DC.

I stroll up to the office building, and this is what I see.....

A MOTHERFUCKING PAPER NOTE TAPED TO THE EFFING WINDOW. WHAT IS THIS, THE X-FILES??? IS THE  SMOKING MAN STANDING BEHIND ME? WILL I GET TO MAKE OUT WITH SCULLY? OR MULDER? NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT!

This is why the Green Party can't have nice things....like electoral victories. It's because far too many of us cannot communicate or organize our way out of a wet paper bag. (Please recycle, nut-hugger) Heaven fucking forbid we: actually collect RSVP emails and send an  email that states "Hey, 1 inch of snow made my balls shrivel up inside me, so the training is canceled." Or, oh I don't know....UPDATE THE VOICEMAIL ON THE OFFICE PHONE TO SAY "TRAINING'S CANCELED, BITCHES, FIGURE IT OUT BY YOURSELF!!!!!"

It is amateur hour bullshit like this that makes me furious. Is it as retarded as say, Gingrich, Perry, and Santorum being too damn dumb to get on the Virginia Primary ballot? No. But, if we can't do the goddamned easy stuff like schedule campaign training, and simultaeously be able to deal with the collapse of society due to one entire inch of snow, how do we expect to seize power, declare a Green Party perpetual dictatorship, send all Republicans and Democrats to our pre-planned Ralph Nader-themed "Re-education camps." and loot the fuck out of the Treasury???...um....I mean build a grassroots democracy movement that promises hugs and unicorns for all?

Looking forward to this little meeting being rescheduled so I can ream the hell out of whoever decided that ink-on-paper-stuck-to-a-window passes for effective communication in 2012. In 1612, this would have been the best shit ever, come to think of it.

Assholes.

Angry Wong dines on RAGE SANDWICH WITH MAYO

By: Meilee Wong

We've all felt it. The icy clench of rage accosting your sternum and pinching, clutching, gorilla-gripping until your heart feels like it's about to explode in ragey rage rage.

Nothing unleashes my rage-monster more quickly than the District of Columbia's illustrious barons of food service..or as I like to call them, food-servants.

Coming from Los Angeles, where everyone is an aspiring actor, actress, marimba-player or moderntechnojazz-dancer hoping to make it big, everyone treats you nicely. Who knows, you could be a talent scout, B-movie producer, or the conductor of the world's finest marimba orchestra. Your water glass is filled (garnished with a slice of yuzu, if you're in a finer establishment), your brown rice is subbed for quinoa with nary a hitch, your tilapia is grilled to perfection, your fork is replaced between every course.

Well, I may be exaggerating, but my rage monster reared its ugly head at the Foggy Bottom Whole Foods as of late and this is a prime example of why I hate consuming edibles in our Nation's Capital. Please see following succession of tweets:

When you arrive at Whole Foods, you are greeted by the unblinking yet cheerful stares of an armada of touchscreen food ordering devices. The purpose of these, Emperor WholeFoodsian, is so that your customer may order whatever sandwich, "Good Food Bowl," maki sushi or gold-dipped piece of crap that they like. Ahead of time. You even allow your customer to pay at said touchscreen food ordering device. This is supposed to expedite your customer's order and keep your kitchen organized.

When your customer arrives at your Sandwich CounterLand, they are greeted by another array of flatscreens which is supposed to tell them when their order is ready. You are NOT supposed to call the customers to the counter one by one, ask for their printed receipt, and THEN begin assembling their order. You are also NOT supposed to offer things on your auto-menu THAT ARE COMPLETELY OUT. Nor are you supposed to hire stoned-looking sandwich guys who ATTEMPT TO SQUIRT COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF MAYO ON YOUR CUSTOMER'S SANDWICH, CAUSING YOUR CUSTOMER TO LUNGE TOWARDS THE PLATE-GLASS SCREECHING NO NO NO!!! EMULSION OF DEATH UNNECESSARY!!!! 

To add insult to injury, you tweet back to me saying that if I ever so kindly bring back my receipt to Customer Service, I will receive a full refund. Well you know what, Emperor WholeFoodsian, I threw that scrap of rage out with the garbage that your "customer service" smells worse than. If you are really "sorry for the inconvenience I experienced," you know what? FIX YOUR DAMNED SANDWICH COUNTER EMPLOYEE. 

So with that, fellow District Denizens, I issue you a call to action. We cannot allow ourselves to be downtrodden by the despicably bad food service in this city, and simply roll over and accept it as normal. Don't just sit at your table, your water glass crying for more water, your bread basket not refilled, beaten into submission by the horrible table and counter service in this city. I implore you: Vote With Your Wallets. If it sucks, don't eat there. Please. 

Either that or I will raise an army to sledgehammer your Fair Trade hemp reusable grocery bags. TO THE DEATH!