Poppin' Good Coffee
Like most people, I'm a cheap bastard. Some of it comes from my mother, who was frugal to a
fault, and shafted us more times then not with both cheap clothing and cheap house hold appliances that where inches
from killing one of us.
Part of it is my need for quality verses quantity. I know good things cost good money. I've been burned more then once
by the promise of inexpensive equality. In a general way, there is no such thing. You get what you pay for, though it
seems to be harder these days even to do that. Still, I'm always looking for an alternative.
This brings me to the idea of roasting green coffee beans in a Popcorn Popper. Gee is that possible?? A little research
on the weeb turned up some interesting advice. Our pal A.P.K. was nice enough to send us instructions on how its done,
and what to look for in your bean roasting popcorn popper. The article is over in the right column.
I have yet to try this method, but will be scouring the Goodwill, Value Village, Cash Converters
and second hand stores
to locate an appropriate popper. Then I'll roast me some beans. If it does indeed work, I would really be getting
something for nothing. A popper is much cheaper then a roaster. A second hand popper is even cheaper still. I could buy
30 used popcorn poppers for the price of one low cost bean roaster. Now that is progress!
The bonus in all this is that I get to make popcorn too. I like popcorn, but I would have never thought about buying a
popper. Now, with my coffee lust to drive me, I will not only have a popcorn popper, but might actually have more then
one. They'd make great gifts for your coffee loving friends, complete with instructions on darkening your green beans.
Hopefully, next time, I'll have some results for you or maybe I'll have a tale of how I looked high and low, but could
nary a popcorn popper find. We'll see. We'll see. Till then, I'll continue to enjoy my coffee. Even if it isn't home
roast, it's still yummy and good.
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Random Musings Of Mild Misanthropy
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What's bothering me this week?
- Gotta cut the fucking grass. I hate cutting the fucking grass.
Let the fucking grass grow, I say. It's just fucking grass.
- I can't stop shitting. Not really. I just like the way that sounds.
Actually, I can stop. I just choose not to.
- I threw up all day last Monday. Fuckin' Tequila. Fuckin' Sangria.
Fuckin' Jack Daniels. Fukin' beer. Fuckin' hot sun.
- If I died tomorrow, my cats wouldn't think twice about eating
my rotting flesh.
- I'm tired.
- My nose hairs are starting to turn grey. Great. I'll make sure I
carry around a tiny vial of Grecian Formula in the car whut I can
dip my fingers into before I start into my red-light nose-picking frenzies.
- Heard back from The New Yorker. My comic panel
submission was rejected. I see nothing wrong with Mary Worth, in a
hiked-up little black miniskirty business suit, straddling Ziggy in the photocopy room.
- My bread went moldy after only three days again.
- Beets.
- Steve Austin: a man barely alive. Six million dollars isn't really that much.
I mean, I could win a lottery and build a bionic man. Mmmmmm... bionic man....
- H.R. PUFF'N'STUFF.... ohhhhh, I get it!
- I should be on a sunny yet refreshing patio in Europe - one of the Rivieras, it
doesn't matter - sipping nasty little espressos served in tiny cups by nasty little
baristas and smoking fancy black cigarettes with gold coloured filters.
- That guy in Starbucks with the black trenchcoat and the fat-plastic framed
glasses and the a-little-too-perfectly-kempt-goatee, writin' & readin', all the while
keeping an eye open for who's scoping him. Which Starbucks? It doesn't matter.
- Taco Bell just ain't what it used to be ever since Grade-D meat became cheaper
than cadavers.
- If Marie Osmond was my sister, I'd fuck her, too.
- The time I ate cat food for a laugh, and had to lie about how bad it tasted.
- The words 'saltine', 'rococo' and 'hockey-pool".
- This has nothing to do with coffee.
- I wish I could afford to go up to a space station. I would moon the
entire world.
- Family birthdays.
- Family birthdays at restaurants.
- Family birthdays at restaurants where the servers come out and sing
Happy Birthday and take Polaroids
- How much food can I smuggle out of the Mandarin buffet restaurant?
- A Knight's Tale: He will NOT rock me!
- I'd pay a lot of money to see a Great Dane screw a Chihuahua.
- I'd pay double that to see a Great Dane screw my old manager.
- What really happened to Molly Shannon?
- Iron Man: Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head?
We'll just pass him there; why should we even care?
- Rubber baby buggy bumpers.
- Every time you smell a fart, you are breathing in air that came out of
somebody's ass. That air is nestled into your lungs and in one way or another
becomes a part of you. Every fart you've smelled is in you right now.
We are all of us eachothers' asses.
- I wish I could live on the moon and drive one of those buggies around.
- I'm still wearing a jacket, and it's fucking June already.
- When will I live a day where I don't drop the goddamn soap in the shower?
The only thing tolerable about all that is that little skateboard jump the
soap does up the side of the tub.
- So how old is that 'Popular Mechanics For Kids' chick anyway?
- My hair doesn't grow any more. (Not on my head, anyhow.)
- Too many puppies.
- I ate so many cheddar cheese flavored snacks that the roof of my mouth is all raw.
- I need a bath.
- That shoulda been Pony-Boy, not Johnny!
- Dogs.
- Someone's in the kitchen with Liza. Someone's in the kitchen, I know.
- There's way more shit that's bothering me, but I don't get paid by the word 'round here.
- Screw 'Pearl Harbor' : PLANET OF THE FUCKING APES, BABY ! ! !
Farewell until next time, gentle reader. Do come back again and feel
free to send me your comments, suggestions, stories, whatever.
Gotta go, the coffee's on.
" Jump in de line, rock your body in time - OK, I believe you ! "
Edward Pants, Esq.
In life's coffee bag, be the bitter bean.
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The Coffee Express
Jill has a grand aunt who once told her that her drug of choice was speed. She could stay up
all night and clean her house and talk and talk and talk and get stuff done! She highly recommended it to a young and
impressionable Jill. Now, fortunately, Jill was never foolish enough to take speed. Speed kills, or so Lemmy says.
But Jill has discovered what she believes to be a sweet little substitute. So patently obvious, Jill should have
thought of it before. All along, the solution to the seven o clock crash was right here before her and she never ever
saw. Did you know, my little monkeys, that you can add a shot of espresso to ANYTHING? Anything at all!
Jill has of late begun adding a shot of espresso to her mocha frappucinno. That's cold
Italian Roast coffee with espresso innit! Ye gods! The old timer at the coffee house that Jill frequents boasts of one
customer that puts three espresso shots in his iced coffee drinks. Jill wouldn't want to run into that guy in a
dimly lit alley. Of course, the down side of all this caffeine drinking is the jittery effect it has on Jill. That
much caffeine inevitably leaves Jill a jibbering idiot at three in the morning with itchy nether bits and an imaginary
spike the size of a baseball bat ramming into her skull. Hoo-ee. But before all that, Jill is the most productive
citizen in this fair metropolis.
Sparkling floors and completed proposals, shined shoes and neatly pressed clothing. Books
read, articles written, etc., etc. Much satisfied and pleased with the results of all this work, Jill foolishly heads
back to the café for a second round. This is where the madness begins. One is crazy, two is certifiable. Jill knows
that she cannot absorb this much caffeine without becoming a drooling jabbering crazy woman. Jill doesn't care. Live
fast, die young, and leave a fabulously pretty corpse, that would be Jill's motto if Jill happened to be the sort of
girl that believes in mottoes.
Fortunately for all concerned, Jill is not. So, in conclusion, you can put espresso in any
drink at all. Throw it in your iced coffee beverages, pour it on top of your cake or ice cream, hell, drink it out
of the favorite orifice of your chosen partner. Speed may kill, but coming down from that shot of espresso certainly
qualifies for a near death experience.
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Popcorn Popper Roasting
Don't spends lots of money on a Bean Roaster. Heres how to use a Popcorn Popper!
Jill has bravely volunteered to wade through the sea of rags to
select for you, her sweetest monkeys, those magazines worth wasting an eye flicker upon.
We'd like to extend an invitation to anyone for coffee inspired writings. If you are
interested, and would like to contribute some of your rantings and ravings, please send it in.
Send to:
jack@coffeeclubonline.com
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