Someone must die

Just dandy for dunking piss-off biscuits

Would any court in the world convict me for killing those bastards who leave bits of instant coffee in the sugar?

I've thought about it and I really don't think so. After all, it looks like crumbs of mouse shite and no-one, no matter how much they like mouses, enjoys the thought of specks of rodent poop in their tea.

I really don't understand how it happens. Coffee will only stick to a wet spoon, therefore Someone is taking a wet spoon, dipping it in the coffee jar and then dipping it in the sugar and leaving behind little skidmarks of coffee. How does the spoon get wet in the first place? Is Someone licking it?

I hate the taste of coffee, so the thought of bits of it sullying my tea makes me feel rather... ill. And soiled. It's not as though this is a rare thing, either. It's happened in every office I've ever worked in. Sometimes, when the sugar was getting low at my first paper, there'd end up being more coffee in the jar than sugar and most of what sugar there was would be in wettish clumps.

That kitchen was pretty rank, though. A new HR person came in just after I left and declared war on the teaspoons. I think she tried washing them, bleaching them and irradiating them, but they were so encrusted with tannin, mank and pre-millennial milk that one day she went all OCD on the cutlery drawer and binned the lot. She was the same chick who used to blitzkrieg the fridge at 4pm every Friday afternoon. If your Tupperware was still in there, you could kiss its plasticky little arse goodbye.

But that wasn't really a surprise. I've always known that most HR people were useless wankers who didn't have enough to do with themselves.

Then, of course, there are the people who will napalm any person who uses their mug. I've seen a woman walk around a cube farm covering an entire floor, stop at every desk and ask the same question: "Have you seen my mug? It's bright red. You can't miss it. Are you sure you haven't seen it? It's red." The whole time, she was surreptitiously looking behind piles of paper and in filing trays, just in case her mug was there and the person was trying to keep it from her. Because of course, a mug just isn't the same after it's been used and abused by a random. It would have alien spit on it and have to be washed properly, using detergent and that yucky kitchen sponge that no-one ever rinses properly. You know the one - the one that smells like socks.

The kitchen commandments are relatively simple. I don't understand why no bastard seems able to stick to them.

1. Thou shalt supply thine own mug.
2. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's mug even if it is decorated with Gough Whitlam's Dismissal quote about no-one being able to save the Governor General.
3. Thou shalt not allow thy mug to grow furry and blue, yea but though shalt wash it after each and every use.
4. Thou shalt not besmirch the sugar with thy little crumbs of coffee, otherwise the wrath of the Lord of the Kitchen shall be visited upon thine head and thou shalt be forced to eat the sponge from the sink. Yes, the smelly one that no-one wisheth to touch.

So. Someone, are you listening? Yes, I'm talking to you. Stop leaving crumbs of coffee turd in the sugar or I shall smite thine arse into the middle of next week.