I Quit. Yes I will work for you.

Hi there,

So you may have noticed that there a few aesthetic changes here on ICYF. Well….

The thing is… I’ve been a bad blogger and aside from the general sins of not posting very much in the past little while, I’ve also dropped the ball and not let ya’ll in on your favourite cook’s updates. So basically… I quit. I quit working at the shit-hole wings joint. It came suddenly and without warning.

This rejection of trivial wing-cookery represents a meaningful surge from the avant-garde of the workers’ struggle into the cushy, fat lined pockets of the rich franchise-restaurant owning class of our society; a bold strike into the heart of apathetic food assemblage; a sign of the coming death rattle of the culinary industrial complex. AKA: Marx would like totally die of jealousy if he saw how bad ass this prolitariate was whooping the bougies.

As I typed the email to my manager, I could literally see the last breathes expunged from the sick and failing body of the disgusting apparatus of pointless consumption. The dead and infectious, carrion laddled carcass of the pig-hippo cross breed lies at my feet; I pity the pathetic creature as its muscles spasm and it mouths tahe words, gasping ” I’m sorry, I’m sorry….kill me. Kill me.”

Then I took another kitchen job.

So there are going to be some changes. I’m not sure how this whole thing is going to go. Not working at a shitty shitty restaurant anymore somewhat pulls the sarcastic rug out from my feet. Sometimes its easier to justify a job you hate… you can create a demented little mythos around your suffering and justify your complacency (just like politicians do) . And in some ways it was easier to work in the shitty place and not care. Just do your time, mentally check-out and ride the chicken-wing wave…

But now, my good friends, its all about the avocados and scallions.

Cheers, ICYF.