You know who really grinds my gears? I mean, you know who really grinds the bejeezus out of my gears? I know I've said some shit grinds my gears before, but you know who is now grinding my gears like a Chinese woman driving a stick shift? The goddamned diabolical genius who stocks the vending machine on the 3rd floor of my building.

It has got to be the worst vending machine on earth. Instead of Mrs. Fields cookies, it has those awful, chalky cookies with the fake raspberry center. The only flavor of Pop Tarts is brown sugar, which is the Tea Party candidate of Pop Tart flavors: only crazy people and retards want brown sugar. Half the machine is filled with gum. Gum! Hey, its 3 in the afternoon and I'm hungry, you know what would be great right now? ANYTHING BUT A PACK OF FUCKING GUM WHICH MAKES YOU SICK IF YOU ACTUALLY EAT IT.

But none of this should matter, because the machine as chocolate frosted donettes. Ooh, chocolate frosted donettes, how I love you. You are the best. You are the Yankees. You are Taco Cabana. You are Battlestar Galactica seasons 1-3.

So none of the other garbage in the World's Worst Vending Machine(TM) should matter, but it does, because the diabolical genius who stocks the machine did not give the chocolate frosted donettes their own slot. No, what he did is intersperse the chocolate frosted donettes with the white powder donettes. White powder donettes are the Red Sox. They are Taco Bell. They are Battlestar Galactica season 4.

I can leave my office, walk down two flights of stairs (because the exercise makes it okay to eat a whole pack of donettes before I even get back to my desk, DUH), and go to the vending machine, only to find the slot is empty. And I'm okay with that. They are the only tasty thing in that vending machine, of COURSE they'd be gone. But what I'm not okay with, what I will NOT accept, is that I can go down there and find that the chocolate donette is trapped behind a white powder frosted donette, and that the only way to free it is to pay for donettes that I do not want.

I will not pay for the white powder to get to the one I want. I refuse. I WILL NOT BE MANIPULATED IN THIS WAY, VENDING MACHINE OPERATOR. So instead I must play chocolate frosted donette roulette every time.

Fucking diabolical asshole.