#16 The Story Of How I Went Mad © Caffeine Bubbles

A summer internship is a great opportunity for university students. You get to explore the workings of the professional world, you begin to make a name for yourself, and most importantly of all, you earn dosh that you can splash out on that BMW you've always dreamed of.

Or on a pony.

Errmm... This just came up when I typed 'cute pony' into Google Images... :

WHAT THE...?

But I digress.

SO. INTERNSHIPS. Basically, you get to do something other than lying in bed all summer watching old episodes of The Hills wearing your Snoopy pyjamas while eating deep-fried Oreos.

But when you realise that you are somewhat over-qualified for some of the stuff you're doing, like organising business cards by alphabetical order or labelling files, things turn to snot.

You try to find ways to attenuate the boredom, one of which is purging your anguish through writing. Normal people use a private journal. But as you may have guessed, I'm not exactly normal. I use email.

From: Caffeine Bubbles
To: Caffeine Bubbles' Colleague

Subject: This Is The Story Of How Caffeine Bubbles... Went Mad

« I am so bored, » typed Caffeine Bubbles into Microsoft Word in a cathartic attempt to express her agony. Having finished most of the work she had to do for the day within the first hour she got to the office, she now had practically nothing to do, except for a bit of research on the Treaty of Lisbon. In the past hour and forty-four minutes, she’d tried to find multiple ways of entertaining herself, including spinning around in her chair until she felt dizzy, throwing paper balls into a bin, making a cup of organic green tea every fifteen minutes, using the labeling machine to print out "Caffeine Bubbles is very bored" labels, and other fascinating things.

The internet was now proving to be troublesome, refusing to load various pages that were necessary for her mental well-being, namely the BBC news website, Youtube and Facebook, and for her job, namely the EU Commission webpage.

“MOVE YOUR FAT ASS,” scream-whispered Caffeine Bubbles at her computer as she repeatedly hit the screen with a purple ruler she’d found on the floor. You might have guessed that she couldn’t really allow herself to audibly yell at the PC, as not only would it hinder the work of various executives working down the corridor but it would also make them think she was completely insane, resulting in a loss of career brownie points (for Caffeine Bubbles was no Ulysses – she WANTED a job).

So instead she resorted to scream-whispering -- the action of whispering something that could sound like a scream were it amplified on a super-powerful megaphone -- at various objects which were unfortunate enough to cross her path, such as a rubber, a phone-book, a phone, and the gateway to the alleviation of her suffering: the DELL computer. But the DELL computer would not budge and a brutal sign lit up the screen: “INTERNAL PORTAL ERROR”.

“AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH,” scream-whispered Caffeine Bubbles once more as she typed this into Microsoft Word. “This is horrendous! I can’t get on with doing research for my EU Commission magazine and I can’t even watch stupid Glenn Beck and Bill O’Reilly videos in order to instill feelings of ardent cynicism and anger at bigotry in this mind-numbingly bored skull of mine!”

Two hours later, my email had unfortunately been forwarded to all the executives in the office to make them understand they weren't keeping me busy enough. Well apparently, they appreciate my honesty, and will do their best to give me more business cards to organise by alphabetical order, and more ink toners to stock up in the supply room.

(Note to self: stick to scream-whispering)

Copyright © Caffeine Bubbles, Brussels 23/07/08

#15 Everybody Loves Glenn Beck © Caffeine Bubbles

This article is dedicated to a man whom the world should revere.

Indeed, you have rightly guessed that I speak of Glenn Beck, whose prowess is demonstrated in this video.

Oh, Glenn Beck. What a man.

So for all you Glenn Beck lovers out there: the first installment of my 8,909,897,000-word historical novel praising Glenn Beck. Enjoy.

New Beginnings: An Objective History of Glonnie Buck's American Revolution

A 8,909,897,000-word historical novel by Caffeine Bubbles

One: Sewing The Seeds Of Revolt

“I just love my country...,“ choked Glonnie Buck as he stared straight into the camera lens, his glittering blue eyes releasing a cascade of tears, conveying all the hopelessness of his soul and the purely unselfish affection he felt for the US citizens who would later be watching his programme on Fox, a can of beer in hand and a wholesome Walmart ready-meal rested on their plenteous bellies. Yes, that was the illustrious American dream as they and Glonnie saw it… but it was at risk of being shattered into oblivion by evil hands. “... and I fear for it.”

Ever since the dishonest rise to power of Obamin, the malicious socialist Muslim Kenyan who had claimed to want to reestablish the US’s economic and social welfare but who had in fact destroyed everybody’s hopes by turning the nation into a Communist dictatorship, nothing had been the same. In the early months of his administration, a deadly virus – Socio-Political Hypochondria – had mysteriously swept the entire country, threatening to kill off a significant proportion of the population, and more particularly people who had an inclination for tea and grand old parties. Those who had contracted the virus continued to dwell in terror of rotting away, but an act of God had somehow made it possible for them to live, albeit while suffering from horrendous side effects, including baldness, paranoia, halitosis, and deteriorating sexual potency.

Glonnie began to sob into his heart-patterned handkerchief while retaining every ounce of his eminent dignity. A dribble of golden snot trickled out of his right nostril… a symbol of American despair and of the chaos that had ravaged the land. He wiped it away quickly and put his sodden handkerchief away. He solemnly stood up from his chair in the manner of a great monarch who had just finished making a distinguished speech, like Dumbledore III of England (yes, he remembered the name he had read in “An American Guide to European History” by Bill O’Reillo.)

“My fellow Americans,” Glonnie called out in his melodiously patriotic voice, his thick blond hair glowing in the studio lights, his graceful, well-endowed physique radiating the heat of revolt, “the situation has become more than we can bear. My 'circle theory' has now been proven correct, although I genuinely wish it hadn’t, and –.” He was interrupted by another sob which rose up in his throat, his face contorted in disillusion. “We –.” The pain was too great, he was at a loss for words. “We must -.”

He looked up to the ceiling above, envisioning the blue skies over them and repeatedly blinking to chase the tears from his eyes. Glonnie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he fluttered them open, his glare of steel pierced the camera, inducing a fierce desire for insurgency in whoever looked upon him. “We must fight.”

Copyright © Caffeine Bubbles, Brussels 22/07/10