Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.

-- R. Burns Epistle to a Young Friend

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The 23rd Cup

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".

2 comments:

robinstarfish said...

Major grins. Yessir, I'm gonna brew up another mug o'Joe right now.

mushroom said...

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?