Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Mr. Coffee could be a medical doctor in England, because they still call them Mr. there

But it's still only brewing about 1/4 the amount of coffee it's pretending to. Where does the rest of the water go? I never have any extra to pour out. I think my coffeemaker has a dehydrating parasite -- well, it was made in China, and you never know what it could have picked up there. Either that, or there's a very small, very thirsty person living inside the coffee reservoir.

I'll give it some more practice this weekend and get it into shape. If anything, the coffee seemed a little weaker today than yesterday. I'm a stickler but I can't help it. I want my coffee so fucking black that the room gets a little dimmer when you pour it, and when I taste it I want to forget that water is even a component of it. (1 sentence essay, "What Coffee Means To Me," copyright NJR 2005.)

In lieu of the Diet Pepsi today, I had a Matcha Green Tea Boost in my Protein Berry Pizazz from Jamba Juice (fuck, that's a lot of silly product names for one sentence). I don't know if it gave me the same level of kick, but seeing as how my trip to the dentist only afforded enough time to drink my lunch with a straw, I thought I might as well use one $5 stone to kill two birds, one of hunger and the other of addiction. Tomorrow I'll get back to the mystical 20 ounces of aspartame and artificial color that I love so much.

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