Caffeine is my shepherd; I shall not doze.
It maketh me to wake in green pastures;
It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses.
It restoreth my buzz.
It leadeth me in the paths of consciousness for its name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of addiction,
I'll fear no Equal for thou art with me;
Thy cream and thy flavorings they comfort me.
Thou preparest a carafe before me in the presence of Juan Valdez.
Thou anointest my days with vigor; my mug runneth over.
Surely flavor and aroma shall follow me all the days of my life
and I will dwell in the House of Maxwell forever.
Amen!
I got this in an email a while back.
I want to be cremated -- preferably after I'm dead. My wife and I were talking about funeral planning and services and urns. I told her to pack me in beans, slow roast me, put the ashes in an old Folgers can and have them say "grounds to grounds".
Waiting for the Miracle or Something
10 hours ago
3 comments:
Oh! This is too funny!
Thanks, Mush -- needed that. Like a double shot.
My Dad always said to my Mom, "Lynn, when you see those guys with the big auger by the side of the road. Putting in the telephone poles. Just drop me in there. And then the pole right on top." He is kind of a no-frills guy. Loves coffee too, as you know.
The boy doesn't though, and me and he were talking about that just this morning. He could smell it and said he doesn't like the smell. I was speechless. I blame the school systems.
Major grins. Yessir, I'm gonna brew up another mug o'Joe right now.
My daughter is the only other coffee drinker in the family, but she's a little more picky than I am.
I'm a coffee possum and will drink almost anything -- although I will admit that I don't know how they managed to make the "state" coffee they served the prisoners where I worked taste like cigarette butts -- I thought only decaf tasted like that.
I like mine pretty strong if I make it. I remember the first time I got an expresso -- I looked at the guy, like, where's the rest of it?
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