|
September 8, 2000
|
|
Now Bi-Weekly (One more time!)
Yay! One more week to read the latest issue!
Yup, you heard right. Coffee Club is now Bi-Weekly. We'll be coming to you twice a month.
We know
it's hard getting in a whole issue of Coffee Club, and we do not want you to miss a single word.
So grab a cup, relax, and read at your leisure.
Coffee Club Comic
Coffee Club brings you Part 3 of a continuing graphic adventure.
Follow weekly a traveler in No Space, as he faces perils and meets danger head on with no holds
barred reckless abandon.
|
I Would Be King
I am Jack's wide eyed wonder. I watched as they poured the last two bags of
beans into the foot deep bed-shaped box. One of them smiled at me and gave me a cheery ‘All done Sir',
the other threw the flap over the beans.
Carefully, he pulled the zipper along the top of the bed-bag, then down the side
and across the bottom, sealing the beans in white linen. The aroma was heavy and earthy, like a garden
ready for flowers.
The first one helped the second pat down the cover, flattening any lumpy bits.
The sound was like a bag full of hard wooden marbles. Something about it made my spine tingle. I watched
them smooth the top, making everything flush with the light pine box.
I am Jack's salivation. They gibbered like monkey's to each other, but I ignored them.
I give them a nod as they walked passed and out of my boudoir. I rubbed my hands together and smiled
like the devil as I walked to the edge of the bed, turned around and leaped backwards.
Like crushing cockroaches. Like a rattle snake. Like beans, for Gods sake. Jack
was very happy. I was absorbing the beans through my skin, I could feel it. Like roots growing up into my
body, I felt the bean blood course through my veins.
Slowly, in the hypnotic embrace of the arabica, I fell into a deep slumber.
Dreaming of mountains, of hills, of wide open green, as far as the eye could see. Dreaming of the cherries
picked by hand, and packed on a mule. Dreaming of Jaun, with his all knowing grin.
The beans crunched beneath my sleeping body, but I was oblivious to thier noises. I
slept like never before, dreaming of the end of the world, and of how I would be king.
King, with my bag of beans.
Bon nuit mes amis.
Bubblelicious fun
Sugar free, chomp, blow, pop, pop, pop
Cappuccino gum
|
Random Musings Of Mild Misanthropy
|
Breakfast Of Champions
A recent discussion with my coffee cohort, Cakey Pants Jack (no relation),
wandered in the direction of alcohol, as it so often does. Why, he mused,
can we not combine our mutual loves of coffee and alcohol?
Oh, but we can,
I said ... we can.
I have long advocated the remedial benefits of a shot or two of Cointreau
in your morning mug after a night of boisterous drinking. (The Caffiend
was successfully revived with such treatment during a foray in the
wildernesses of Restoule Lake park many years ago.) We researched the
topic at hand and a short surf on the Internet brought us a multitude
of sexy marriages between coffee and alcohol.
Now, I don't suggest getting drunk on hopped-up coffees, but it surely
can be done. I see it, rather, as more of an enhancement to your coffee
drinking pleasures, or at the very least a cheap way to add some taste
to your otherwise pathetic self.
Like you, I was once like an unemployed
school teacher: no class. Adding a splash of any number of appropriate
coffee-enhancing liquors (or liqueurs) may be all you need to climb up a
rung on that social ladder (hell, it may just get some of you on
the ladder).
Example. You have that special someone over to
your pad, and you brew up a pot of the expensive shit you keep tucked
away. You turn the lights down, put some Steely Dan on the spinner
(that's vinyl, kids...), maybe light a fire (preferably in a fireplace)
or sit out on the verandah by candle light,
bring out the coffee and enjoy engaging conversation.
At the end of
the night, maybe you get a compliment on your excellent java (if you've
been following our tips here from Coffee Club), maybe you get a
kiss on the cheek, but you'll be sleeping alone. Again.
But, toss in a shot of Baileys in each mug and you've just kicked
your chances of playing hide the pickle up a notch.
To quote
Dennis Hopper (as Frank Booth, from Blue velvet): You're so
fucking suave.
But it doesn't stop there. Used as a post-drinking remedy, a shot
in your Joe gives the body that much-needed coffee rush, while
the alcohol eases the body into a slow withdrawal from the vicious
near-death by alcohol poisoning you have subjected yourself to.
The concoctions are numerous, and I'll go into these in our next
issue, along with some first-hand comments and reviews. For now,
just have a look in your bar cabinet and experiment at will!
Suggestions to get you started: Irish Cream, Cointreau, Amaretto,
and hell ya: Jack Daniels.
Bon enivrer!
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.
Edward Pants, Esq.
In life's coffee bag, be the bitter bean.
|
Why Arn't You Funny
Listen up all you cubicle monkeys: Back away from the water cooler. Nobody
really cares who the last Survivor was. It's not on a need to know. Get thee to the percolator,
it'll improve your conversation.
When you're all hopped up on caffeine, your patience for inanities is greatly
diminished. Your tolerance for bullshit dwindles to zero. Get witty, or get off the island. Trust me,
no one gives a rats ass about your bowel problems, or wants to see, yet again, endearing photos of your
kids.
Naked pics of your spouse? Maybe.
Tell Jill what book you read, or espouse some hare brained Grand Unified Theory.
Otherwise, shut up. I don't have time for observations on the weather, or what a dickface the boss is.
Shlup back a few thermoses full of joe and then get back to me.
If your anecdotes don't improve, at least I will be Jill's mighty amusement,
watching you spin yourself into a tizzy while coping with a whopper of a coffee high.
|
|
