I'm back from L.A., where I went for the past week and didn't tell you. There are a lot of great stories I could tell you about it, but there is something more pressing I'd like to discuss.
"Somebody brought in cookies!" Ah, those sweet words are a rare cause for celebration here at the office. We get no Christmas bonus, no proper holiday party, and no free coffee machine, so cookies from an anonymous donor are infinitely more exciting in the month of December. When there's something good to eat at work, productivity skyrockets and Jesus smiles, so it was with great relish that I stalked across the room to the cookies only to find that they weren't real cookies but rather OLD PEOPLE COOKIES! I was so pissed, but I decided to eat one anyway just in case these old people cookies were different. They weren't; it was a nightmare!
In case you don't know, here's a quick lesson in old people cookies from a science and nature magazine I just made up:
The Old People Cookie is a nefarious beast that takes the form of a dry, unadorned, artificially-colored and entirely tasteless lump. Old People Cookies travel in groups called Shitty Gift Boxes. They are nomadic creatures, though they will often settle for brief periods at church receptions, rest home Christmas parties, ghetto blood drives, and the already-occupied houses of old people. Ironically, despite the name, the Old People Cookie has only one natural predator: old people. This is because they produce a natural toxin to which old people are immune. Other species who ingest an Old People Cookie are inflicted with the non-lethal but incapacitating poison that some victims have described as "fucking disgusting." The Old People Cookie is therefore able to enjoy a life relatively free of predation until its natural life cycle ends in staleness, though at what point staleness sets in is often unclear, and the corpse of an Old People Cookie can be passed off as a member of the community for up to 50 years.
I don't know why anybody buys these gross cookies or how the companies that make them haven't a) gone out of business or b) been bombed. The picture above represents how many cookies were on the plate after I took one. It also represents the number left on the plate when I left for the day. NOBODY LIKES OLD PEOPLE COOKIES! STOP TRYING TO FOIST THEM ON US! These were probably a regift of a regift of a gift originally given in 1960.
Fucking Old People Cookies. Fucking old people.