Saturday, February 26, 2011

Adobe InDesign

Happy InDesign- "Air freshner that
sparys?  Oh my God, this the happiest
day of my life."

Warning, there is foul mouth language.

Adobe InDesign. Sometimes in the newspaper room, we have problems with technology. Sometimes InDesign is all like “Hellz yeah, let’s get this layout done, ‘cause imma boss.” Then, other times it’s all like “What the hell? I’m not a design software program that’s supposed to aid you in creating a layout. Who exactly do you think I am? Adobe InDesign? Psssh. Fuck that shit.”

Adobe InDesign is like a PMSing housewife, and she’s baking a pie.

Adobe InDesign has a husband (probably the equally moody Adobe Photoshop), and she’s making the pie for him, because he had a hard day at work not opening picture files or sharpening too much and pixelating the image. Tough stuff.

InDesign lovingly prepares an apple pie for Photoshop. She went to the orchard to pick fresh apples and she turned the butter herself after milking the cows in the backyard. She hummed Limp Bizkit’s “Break Stuff” as she kneaded and caressed the dough that she prepared by hand. No canned or boxed stuff here. All natural. She cut and washed the apples. She used a protractor to help her create a perfect criss-cross pattern at the top of the pie.

She sets the timer and places the pie in the oven, after pre-heating the oven of course, because she’s a good housewife. The timer buzzes and she opens the oven, flooding the air with the smell of homemade apple pie. She sniffs it and sighs.

“Oh, how lovely it looks,” she says to herself, flashing a smile as she slips cute, pastel oven mitts on her delicate hands.

She pulls out the pie and lets it rest on the counter. Right then, Photoshop comes home.

“I’m home,” Photoshop calls, plastering a wide grin on his face.

“Oh honey,” she runs to him and they embrace.

Cute right?

She tells him that she’s baked some pie for him, and he thanks her with a peck on the cheek. They go over to the dinning room. She retrieves a slice of pie for him and pours a glass of milk for him.

“Got to keep my hunky husband’s bones nice and strong,” she smiles.

He takes a bite of the pie, letting out a satisfied “yum.”

“Honey, this is delicious,” he continues eating.

“Thank you dear, I worked all day on it,” she continues smiling.


“But?” she now frowns.

“The pie is great, but I was more in the mood for blueberry pie.”

Awkward silence. Then, InDesign rips off her apron and throws it at Photoshop.

“What the fuck do you mean but? ‘I was in the mood for blueberry pie.’ Well, I’m in the mood for breaking your fucking face tonight. Huh? How do you like them apples, or should I say mother fucking blueberries you son of a bitch.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, that’s right you little punk ass. Be sorry. You know what?”


She slaps him.

“That’s what. Bitch. Oh, whatcha gonna do now? Huh? Huh? I want a divorce. I never liked you anyway. How can I live with some douche bag who wants fucking blueberries or some motherfucking awesomely epic apple fucking pie? Bitch. And your mother’s fat.”


She storms out of the house screaming expletives at the top of her lungs. She reaches the curb, where a little boy stopped on his bike.
Angry InDesign- "Eat this Bitch."

“You said a bad word,” he says. And this kid is like five by the way.

She doesn’t say anything. She beats the crap out of him; the cops come; she gets arrested; there’s a trial; she’s convicted of assault; she goes to prison.

She’s the prison’s lunch lady now. She made blueberry pie for the inmates. One of them wished for apple instead. She grabbed a filed down spatula and shanked that inmate… in the eye.

That’s InDesign.


1 comment:

  1. I just sent this to my tech-savvy best work friend at Barnes&NobleGATech. He's the technology go-to for us old farts still selling books (whatever they are), and he's great with analogies like this. For us analogs.