DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE
AND PROBABLY THE BEGINING OF THE HOSTILITES
09/18/26
I am fucking fed up.
Sorry, I am just venting.
But I am not talking about my job but about all the bullshit and the theater around it: the posture, the political correctness. The polished language and the LinkedIn motivation posts and leadership speeches written by AI and posted by managers or consultants who haven’t sweated in a Saturday night service in years.
I’m tired of pretending this is who we really are. Because it’s not. At least not all of us.
So all gloves are off; I am going to tell it like it is, without fluff and frills—the French way.
This industry was built and thrived thanks to misfits who never stayed inside the box long enough to feel comfortable there. Obsessive people, chaos addicts, drunks, and functioning alcoholics. Immigrants, artists, and runaways. Workaholics with cuts on their hands, burns on their arms, and scars on their souls. People who made careers drove by instinct, resisting and embracing pressure, chaos, and adrenaline. Not with fucking lullabies or shallow buzzwords.
I will go even further; at this point, burnt for burnt, what the fuck do I have to lose? As far as I’m concerned, creativity never came from following the rules.
Talent has never been inspired by conformity.
And personality never grows very well when it can’t breathe.
There, I will let you simmer on this.
I don’t know by which fucking miracle, but somehow, hospitality has become this management fairy tale where everybody suddenly wants to become a brand and thinks they are “visionary,” delivering platitudes about leadership, burnout, fear, addiction, anxiety, understaffing, garbage wages, or the emotional violence of this industry in carefully curated posts written from the comfort of an office.
Everything became optimized, dull, sanitized, and safe. And to be very honest with you, it bores the fuck out of me. Because some decided that the reality of the job itself was the problem instead of teaching people how to survive and thrive in it. Fuck. Enough is enough; this is my stop. That's where I check out.
But in a way I am thankful and grateful for it because it gave me the idea to create Foodnbullshit and to build this platform to go against the current and the mainstream idea that everything is beautiful under the clear blue sky. To torch the popular belief that there is only one narrative. Because I don’t buy that Instagram-ready version of hospitality that is showcased every day. And mostly because I no longer recognized the industry I spent thirty years in.
So here it is; this is why my website and the posts I make are not pages with prepackaged slogans or ready-to-cook feeds. It’s far away from a digital brochure picturing half-assed truths and praising all these boring postmodern concepts and menus engineered to satisfy everyone and disturb no one.
So, if you want HR-approved content, too bad. I guess I won’t be in your bookmarks.
Boo-hoo. Don't worry, my feelings are ok; I will survive.
Listen, there are thousands of pages already doing it better than me, so why the fuck should I waste my time selling you something I don’t believe in?
The hell with it, let’s go big, full throttle, or go home.
But if you had enough of this bullshit too…
Jump in and join Foodbullshit.
And if you don’t like it, well, you always have the choice to keep on scrolling or to see what's going on elsewhere.
Here, I write and speak about and for the people who still feel a spark during service.
The cooks and the chefs.
The servers and the bartenders.
The managers and the hostesses.
The dishwashers and the food runners.
The rebels.
The too loud, the too old, the too intense, and the borderlines.
The people who don’t fit the mold anymore, who never fit, and probably never will.
I have to say, though, that, to my great surprise, I have encountered a lot of resistance from the hospitality establishment; probably too busy trying to turn hospitality into corporate therapy and pretending this business is supposed to feel comfortable, predictable, emotionally safe, and frictionless all the time.
Spoiler alert, fucktards, it's not.
Some of you may have forgotten what the core of this job is and why we chose it, or sometimes why it has chosen us. It’s stressful; it's a perpetual chaos and packed with adrenaline and exhausting. It’s emotionally and physically demanding. It's fucking draining.
FYI, it always has been. And it always will be.
Some people need to get a fucking grip about that.
To tell you the truth, I have posted this on LinkedIn because it is probably the perfect place to say all this. I will reassure you it was not very popular, to say the least. But I didn't care, because beneath the motivational quotes, the fake humility, the “honored and humbled to announce…” posts, the leadership gurus, the personal branding coaches, and the corporate circus pretending to care about humans while optimizing numbers… there are real people hiding in silence. And they are fucking terrified of becoming irrelevant at forty-five. Tired pretending they love their jobs because mortgages exist. Exhausted by editing themselves every day just to remain employable. Drained to keep on smiling through layoffs, fake culture meetings, toxic management, and endless corporate theater.
Why LinkedIn? Because it became a giant showroom of polished identities and measured opinions, where some are selling apparent wisdom with a fake version of themselves performing professionalism with a well-groomed image. Becoming their own advertisement, bloated by self-inflicted importance and borrowed relevance.
Which is precisely why I think the honesty of Foodnbullshit hits differently here.
Because in the middle of all that noise, I am sure some of you are starving for something real.
Not perfect.
But real.
So yes, it was the perfect bullshit platform to send this message from. Because sometimes the best place to start a fire… is inside the building, pretending nothing burns.
I know posts like this won’t make me more likable or more employable.
Probably the opposite.
Good. Don’t.
Because I’m done trying to fit inside that system. I have spent and dedicated too many years of my life in this industry to become a watered-down version of myself now.
I am pretty sure none of this will change anything.
Absolutely fucking nothing.
But at least I am honest, and if enough employees from hospitality recognize themselves in these words…then maybe I’m not completely crazy after all.
Because, ultimately, I’m not speaking as an outsider looking to get in.
I’m one of you.
I am one of the misfits.
NEWSLETTER
YOUR SEAT AT THE TABLE STARTS HERE
NO SPAM.
NO SPIN.
THE GOOD STUFF ONLY
Sharp stories, honest conversations, and the occasional badly behaved opinion. Delivered when there’s something worth saying.
BY SIGNING UP, YOU AGREE TO RECEIVE EMAILS FROM FOODNBULLSHIT. UNSUBSCRIBE ANYTIME.
© 2026 FOODNBULLSHIT All rights reserved.
Contact:
DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE
AND PROBABLY THE BEGINNING OF THE HOSTILITES
I am fucking fed up.
Sorry, I am just venting.
But I am not talking about my job but about all the bullshit and the theater around it: the posture, the political correctness. The polished language and the LinkedIn motivation posts and leadership speeches written by AI and posted by managers or consultants who haven’t sweated in a Saturday night service in years.
I’m tired of pretending this is who we really are. Because it’s not. At least not all of us.
So all gloves are off; I am going to tell it like it is, without fluff and frills—the French way.
This industry was built and thrived thanks to misfits who never stayed inside the box long enough to feel comfortable there. Obsessive people, chaos addicts, drunks, and functioning alcoholics. Immigrants, artists, and runaways. Workaholics with cuts on their hands, burns on their arms, and scars on their souls. People who made careers drove by instinct, resisting and embracing pressure, chaos, and adrenaline. Not with fucking lullabies or shallow buzzwords.
I will go even further; at this point, burnt for burnt, what the fuck do I have to lose? As far as I’m concerned, creativity never came from following the rules.
Talent has never been inspired by conformity.
And personality never grows very well when it can’t breathe.
There, I will let you simmer on this.
I don’t know by which fucking miracle, but somehow, hospitality has become this management fairy tale where everybody suddenly wants to become a brand and thinks they are “visionary,” delivering platitudes about leadership, burnout, fear, addiction, anxiety, understaffing, garbage wages, or the emotional violence of this industry in carefully curated posts written from the comfort of an office.
Everything became optimized, dull, sanitized, and safe. And to be very honest with you, it bores the fuck out of me. Because some decided that the reality of the job itself was the problem instead of teaching people how to survive and thrive in it. Fuck. Enough is enough; this is my stop. That's where I check out.
But in a way I am thankful and grateful for it because it gave me the idea to create Foodnbullshit and to build this platform to go against the current and the mainstream idea that everything is beautiful under the clear blue sky. To torch the popular belief that there is only one narrative. Because I don’t buy that Instagram-ready version of hospitality that is showcased every day. And mostly because I no longer recognized the industry I spent thirty years in.
So here it is; this is why my website and the posts I make are not pages with prepackaged slogans or ready-to-cook feeds. It’s far away from a digital brochure picturing half-assed truths and praising all these boring postmodern concepts and menus engineered to satisfy everyone and disturb no one.
So, if you want HR-approved content, too bad. I guess I won’t be in your bookmarks.
Boo-hoo. Don't worry, my feelings are ok; I will survive.
Listen, there are thousands of pages already doing it better than me, so why the fuck should I waste my time selling you something I don’t believe in?
The hell with it, let’s go big, full throttle, or go home.
But if you had enough of this bullshit too…
Jump in and join Foodbullshit.
And if you don’t like it, well, you always have the choice to keep on scrolling or to see what's going on elsewhere.
Here, I write and speak about and for the people who still feel a spark during service.
The cooks and the chefs.
The servers and the bartenders.
The managers and the hostesses.
The dishwashers and the food runners.
The rebels.
The too loud, the too old, the too intense, and the borderlines.
The people who don’t fit the mold anymore, who never fit, and probably never will.
I have to say, though, that, to my great surprise, I have encountered a lot of resistance from the hospitality establishment; probably too busy trying to turn hospitality into corporate therapy and pretending this business is supposed to feel comfortable, predictable, emotionally safe, and frictionless all the time.
Spoiler alert, fucktards, it's not.
Some of you may have forgotten what the core of this job is and why we chose it, or sometimes why it has chosen us. It’s stressful; it's a perpetual chaos and packed with adrenaline and exhausting. It’s emotionally and physically demanding. It's fucking draining.
FYI, it always has been. And it always will be.
Some people need to get a fucking grip about that.
To tell you the truth, I have posted this on LinkedIn because it is probably the perfect place to say all this. I will reassure you it was not very popular, to say the least. But I didn't care, because beneath the motivational quotes, the fake humility, the “honored and humbled to announce…” posts, the leadership gurus, the personal branding coaches, and the corporate circus pretending to care about humans while optimizing numbers… there are real people hiding in silence. And they are fucking terrified of becoming irrelevant at forty-five. Tired pretending they love their jobs because mortgages exist. Exhausted by editing themselves every day just to remain employable. Drained to keep on smiling through layoffs, fake culture meetings, toxic management, and endless corporate theater.
Why LinkedIn? Because it became a giant showroom of polished identities and measured opinions, where some are selling apparent wisdom with a fake version of themselves performing professionalism with a well-groomed image. Becoming their own advertisement, bloated by self-inflicted importance and borrowed relevance.
Which is precisely why I think the honesty of Foodnbullshit hits differently here.
Because in the middle of all that noise, I am sure some of you are starving for something real.
Not perfect.
But real.
So yes, it was the perfect bullshit platform to send this message from. Because sometimes the best place to start a fire… is inside the building, pretending nothing burns.
I know posts like this won’t make me more likable or more employable.
Probably the opposite.
Good. Don’t.
Because I’m done trying to fit inside that system. I have spent and dedicated too many years of my life in this industry to become a watered-down version of myself now.
I am pretty sure none of this will change anything.
Absolutely fucking nothing.
But at least I am honest, and if enough employees from hospitality recognize themselves in these words…then maybe I’m not completely crazy after all.
Because, ultimately, I’m not speaking as an outsider looking to get in.
I’m one of you.
I am one of the misfits.
06/03/26
Newsletter
YOUR SEAT AT THE TABLE STARTS HERE
NO SPAM.
NO SPIN.
THE GOOD STUFF ONLY
Sharp stories, honest conversations, and the occasional badly behaved opinion. Delivered when there’s something worth saying.
BY SIGNING UP, YOU AGREE TO RECEIVE EMAILS FROM FOODNBULLSHIT. UNSUBSCRIBE ANYTIME.
© 2026 FOODNBULLSHIT All rights reserved.
Contact:
alexandrefenot@gmail.com
NEWSLETTER
NO SPAM.
NO SPIN.
THE GOOD STUFF ONLY
Sharp stories, honest conversations, and the occasional badly behaved opinion. Delivered when there’s something worth saying.
BY SIGNING UP, YOU AGREE TO RECEIVE EMAILS FROM FOODNBULLSHIT. UNSUBSCRIBE ANYTIME.
© 2026 FOODNBULLSHIT All rights reserved.