RSS

Tag Archives: caffeine

The travelling freak show.

Travelling can be a great way to broaden your horizons.

And by horizons, I mean people watch in a new location.

I am over a thousand miles away from my usual stomping grounds.

The Pacific Northwest.

The region responsible for inflicting Starbucks on the world. (That is one of those blessing/curse things.)

The nicest thing about people watching in a new place is that you get to see the local freak talent.

They may be blending into the background for the regulars around here, but I am getting my eyes on them for the first time.

So, here is a round up of the locals in beautiful downtown portland.

  • There are two homeless guys in line behind me that left their signs propped up next to the front door. “I’m not gonna lie, I just want a cold beer” and “Give till it hurts, I don’t mind”
  • The guy standing next to me as I wait for my coffee is so stoned he keeps dozing off and almost falling.
  • This is a general thing. Half the population of this Starbucks is women. And ALL of them are wearing glasses. Not a one with proper vision or contacts in the bunch. I happen to be of the opinion that women with glasses are the hottest thing this side of long thick hair, (Along with the nervous tendency to play with that hair when you think no one is looking. You know who you are.)

The two homeless guys are the most annoying.

The guy that wants the cold beer is a liar, he ordered a coffee drink.

And being a begging homeless guy pays a lot better than it used to, he ordered a $7 coffee drink.

The stoner guy may have hurt himself.

He got his coffee and made his way into the bathroom.

Soon after the door closed, I heard a crash like he fell headfirst into the toilet.

I would have checked on him, but I am not my brother’s keeper.

At least, not this one.

As for the bespectacled women?

I sat and sipped my coffee with a full chubby for the better part of an hour.

And then I saw her.

Or him.

Or it.

Not to be bigoted, and everyone is free to live whatever life you want, but if your basic sex is not within the realm of even guessing, I reserve the right to judge the shit out of you.

Man, women, man, women…… ADAM’S APPLE AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

He/she had a great ass, I will give he-she that much.

I finished my Venti house drip, thats 22oz of caffeinated goodness, and took the cashier’s offer of a free refill for being a visitor and got more caffeine.

There is a certain giddy edge to ingesting 950mg of caffeine in a short period of time.

The State of California defines being “Under the influence” of caffeine at an unsafe level as having more than 200mg in a 4 hour period.

This is how bad things happen.

There is a streamlined cerebral frenzy that goes on when your brain is mainlining legal speed in quantity that only meth heads or astronauts can understand.

Shitty, sarcastic lines so vile you tend to avoid eye contact with others for a few hours just from the sheer travesty of the imagery.

Music is awesome and really annoying at the same time.

You want more than anything to argue with people you don’t even know.

The safe move is just to keep typing and don’t inflict this kind of random mayhem on strangers.

Mainly because you might want to come back to this Starbucks before you leave town like a man making a jail break.

It is wildly hard, almost impossible to be asked not to come back to a Starbucks without an arrest being made, their corporate whore-like money greed is that strong.

I have been banned twice from various Starbucks.

One for, and I quote, inciting an insurrection.

The manager had a flair for the dramatic, but basically, my crime was egging on a crazed homeless man who was arguing with a painting on the wall.

The second time was making comments under my breath to the ultra-sensitive liberals having a meeting at the big table.

They complained bitterly to the manager and then I did it again while he was asking me to stop, and that made me laugh so hard I got the hiccups.

None of this is illegal.

The last thing Starbucks wants is the police involved.

Starbucks just wants to sell coffee.

And I just want to drink it.

Mmmmm coffee…

(Tastes different up here, must be the water.)

Advertisements
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 5, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

The smell of doom.

I am not sure how much more I can take.

Everyone has been acting all week like this is no big deal.

Like I have not been in danger of shitting myself at any moment.

Friday the 13th, like its nothing to worry about.

Here is a fact:

  1. 18 years ago, on FRIDAY THE 13TH, I broke a toe on the doorjam of my kitchen.
  2. 22 years ago, on FRIDAY THE 13TH, I not only walked into a spider web, but I inadvertently swallowed a spider. (Pucker factor alone made me throw up a little in my mouth just now.)
  3. In the last 30 years, the following job-ending activities have happened within a few days of FRIDAY THE 13TH: 2 layoffs, 1 boss died, 1 fire and the accidental killing of the boss’s wife’s cat by my own negligence. Lotta negative shit here, people.

Now that you have a little back story, you can see the clear connection to a random number on the calendar and how it will be directly responsible for my oddly suspicious death.

So feel free to tempt fate and wander around today while death tries to fit you onto its schedule later today.

I will be hiding under the bed with my coffee and numchucks.

What I don’t get is that people wander around like everything is fine.

Would I be under the bed if everything was alright? Of course not.

Which reminds me, I need to sweep under the bed.

But I think we have all forgotten the fact that the FEAR of bad things happening on Friday the 13th is founded on scientific principles, proven as fact again and again.

I read that on a website on the INTERNET, so you know it’s true.

The only thing that would make it more true is if someone posted it on Facebook, the you know its a fact.

And there are those that choose to be ignorant and belittle those of us with the experience and wisdom to see the foul karmic shit storm today poses. Let them stew in their silly denial of the truth, then cry like slow children when fate takes a shit on them.

Me? Safe under the bed, highly caffeinated and heavily armed.

Outside? Zombie holocaust. Or something. I wouldn’t know, really. Not gonna look. Its horrible, whatever it is.

But, if the fates are kind, it won’t be too bad.

I gotta go to work tomorrow.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on November 13, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

600 is a lot of anything.

“Into the valley of death, wrote the 600”

Lord Tennyson would shit himself in his grave if he read that, he was never a fan of paraphrasing.

So why the arguably dumb paraphrase?

Because the number is 600.

Since starting this vulgar little blog over 4 and a half years ago, with this post, I have now written 600 posts.

That is a LOT of public mental masturbation in print.

I am not sure if I should be proud or ashamed.

Its an accomplishment, but so was 2 girls – 1 cup and that was nothing to be proud of either. (Side note. Despite all of my references to that film over the years, I have never actually seen it, till recently. I am damaged because of it, no bullshit. You go to hell for things like that, even if you are atheist.)

I mentioned this little milestone to someone who has never read the blog before, and they asked an interesting question.

What the hell have you written about for 600 times?

Good question, so I did some research, basically, I read the blog, something from every month, from the beginning till now.

God, I am a fucking genius.

Once my erection subsided, I began to see a few recurring things.

  1. People are horrible to each other and their environment. Caligula had a better command of common courtesy than most of modern man.
  2. The only thing people mistreat more than each other and their environment is themselves. There are people that treat themselves like a split personality that is half crack hoe/half angry pimp. And someone has a beating coming.
  3. My views of the world vary wildly from an almost a sociopathic emotional conscious to a Christ-like benevolence. (Take a moment for that one to sink in. I’ll wait. I know, its a disturbing sentence.)
  4. I have some sort of thing about the homeless. (It has been argued that I both care deeply about them, yet view them as pets. Both are true. However, I view most people as pets and toys to be messed with.)

In a nutshell, thats it. Its an emotionally damaged nutshell, but you take what you can get these days.

As far as blogs go, this is closer to the movie Max Headroom than anything else. Random thoughts and odd sound bites that exist for no reason other than to upset the dumb and stimulate the few intellects that seem to get it. And TRUST me, you fuckers are few and far between.

The one thing missing from the “Recurring things” list is caffeine,

Ah, caffeine, what can I say?

Its the founder of the feast, as it were.

Without it, I am grumpy, mean and don’t like to write.

With it, I am grumpy, mean, and like to write.

As far as addictions go, its a mellow one.

Like a pimp that doesn’t leave visible bruises, the concern is appreciated.

Coffee is the most polite form of caffeine addiction, to be seen at church socials and fine restaurants.

Red bull is like shooting up in a dirty alley.

Both accomplish the same thing, but at least coffee allows you to keep lying about it not being an addiction.

But at its worst, you are just risking insomnia and being irritable.

You are never in danger of having to perform oral sex on your dealer just to get your fix.

And that is a pretty big difference.

So, just to bring things to a close, I wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who has ever read the blog, whether you liked it or hated it.

Without you, this is just a sad rambling to the universe.

Like a literary tree falling in the woods with no one to hear it.

So, in a rare show of gratitude…

Thank you all.

Sincerely, bite me.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on October 30, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

Hopefully, beauty has no sense of smell.

Odd how some things hit you out of the blue and you suddenly remember something you had forgotten.

Here is the chain of events.

I bicycle commute, mainly because I am lazy.

Because if I don’t have a 45 minute bike ride in the morning and again in the afternoon, I would find myself compelled to “Go to the gym” and I am too lazy to go to the gym.

So I ride a 100 miles a week in order to properly be a lazy shit.

The logic is twisted but even Manson would agree with it, so I am good with it.

So, it follows that after work, I would ride to Starbucks to write.

I like my bike, so I lock it up like armed gangs are lurking to swoop in should I forget.

Two young ladies are walking away from Starbucks, drinking their chilled overpriced creations.

And talking shit.

“Sorry to tell her, she is not that hot.”

“Yeah” (Evidently, the second girl is the straight man, the first girl is the color commentator.

“I mean, it looks so phony. An Asian girl with blond hair. Seriously?”

“I didn’t want to sit there anymore.”

And off they went.

She’s still there?

I am always looking for the oddities in life, especially if they are getting their caffeine on at Starbucks.

Nothing more fun than reporting a freak show in the Temple of Legal Speed.

I walked into Starbucks with a bounce in my step.

And there she was.

Whoa.

I have the age range of women I am attracted to. Older women, not girls, who have seen the world a bit.

But there is an age women hit that is just out of the teens and just shy of what you would call “Older” that is breathtaking in its beauty.

Stunning is a word you would use.

It is effortless in it simplicity and loveliness.

To correct the young lady outside, yes, she is that hot.

For that brief moment, even the most jaded perverted men among us can only stop and admire what nature decided would peak at this moment, this critical apogee in time.

Well done nature.

Even I hesitate to besmirch that memory with shitty words and childish smacking.

Trust me, even that lazy bastard Karma would get off of his ass and give me an Ike Turner style tune up for daring to open my cake hole.

Nuff said.

 

On a side note, there is an old man in Starbucks who is not allowed to poo.

That sounds weird, but it appears to be true.

When I came in, he came in the opposite door.

While I was getting settled at a table, he made a beeline for the bathroom.

The somewhat tippy toe way he was walking gave you the impression that he was clenching his asscheeks together to avoid shitting himself.

And then he encountered the door lock.

It is a number pad, punch in the number, and the door will open.

Unless you don’t know the code.

Like him.

But that is not stopping him from stabbing his finger at random numbers then pounding on the doorknob.

And then he goes to the cashier. I would have gone their immediately, but thats me.

And the cashier really can’t wait to give it to him.

She announces the number when he gets 10 feet away.

So he marches back, asscheeks clenched to the point that he is walking stiff legged.

And can’t remember the code.

So he heads back to the cashier.

He is angry, not at the cashier, but maybe at the metamucil he takes 3 times a day that makes double parking a deuce in the lower intestine an impossible act.

But the cashier will bare the brunt of this.

“What’s the damn number?” He snaps.

The cashier smiles and gives it to him.

The training program at Starbucks rivals the Stepford Wives for automatic responses.

The stiff legged walk is a tad more pronounced this time.

This is getting ugly here.

There is a real possibility that the old guy may end up twisting out a growler in public.

Ewww.

Just as his 3rd attempt at the door code fails and you can see visible trembling in his hips, the bathroom door opens and a homeless guy comes out.

And just like that, the day is saved.

Except that now the old timer is sitting in a poorly ventilated room taking a backed up retirement shit while being smothered in some world class BO.

I bet he is wishing he had shit himself out here.

At least it would smell better.

Oh well, you can’t have it all.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on October 2, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Caffeine and Print addictions, talk about a bitch.

The printed word is an addictive drug for many.

But you will never see it mentioned on an episode of Intervention.

The print monkey can sit heavy on your shoulder for decades.

Amazon’s Kindle can move you to digital, but the only difference is that it is easier to carry.

But print is print.

And a physical book has the added hook of nostalgia.

I mentioned awhile ago that an old friend had opened a restaurant in the front half of Galaxy book store in Redondo Beach, CA.

I was eating breakfast, an awesome breakfast burrito with an few Irish twists, when I heard it.

The books were calling to me.

Almost in a dream, I got up and walked thru the arch and into the bookstore.

I took my coffee, caffeine addiction trumps dreaming, 9 times out of 10.

The guy at the counter in the bookstore eyes me, but he understands the symbiotic relationship with the restaurant and says nothing.

Books were my first step out of diapers.

The first one was the Hobbit at age 7.

Mom was a little iffy about letting me read it, but she allowed it.

And that started the print Monkey’s entry into my life.

I still deal with it.

And places like this bookstore do not help.

Galaxy bookstore has that touch that only an independent bookstore has.

Its hip.

Hip in that cool way, not the annoying Katy Perry type hip.

They recently had a book signing for several self published authors.

And yet, they have all of your main authors from the big publishers.

Its a nice balance, and one that favors the reader, which is really unusual.

Or maybe its just tough for me to understand due to my whore-like capitalistic mentality.

Maybe its important not to over think it.

Bottom line is, once you get into the ritual of reading, print can open up and show you whole new universes, and yet still be mildly annoying at times.

But, like all addictions, we ignore that and focus on the high.

So Galaxy bookstore is one of the cooler crack houses I have ever seen.

I haven’t bought a physical book in several years, only digital.

And yet, sitting back in the restaurant, I realize that I have purchased several enticing titles.

In the back of my head, the print monkey is screeching in delight.

He gets that way, I swear he works for the publishers, and yet, he loves reading my stuff as well, so I know that is not true.

As I have said before, Caffeine and Print are on the lower end of the addictions list, but they are still there.

But as far as addictions go, this is one of the coolest places to get your fix on.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on December 23, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

No shooting till I get my coffee.

“I paid for that fucking cup, and I can have whatever I want in my cup, bitch!”

Ok, so I added the “bitch” part, but I really feel like it was implied.

I am not sure if the guy who is hassling the cashier at this particular Starbucks is homeless, but I am sure he is drunk.

And so does the cop sitting in the back.

You can tell by the seated body language.

A little bit of tension that was not there before, right hand unconsciously moves closer to the holstered side arm.

I suddenly became interested in something a foot further back in the cooler case, this puts me further away from the drunk and more importantly, out of the line of fire if the officer “handles” it.

It seems the issue the drunk has his smelly panties in a twist over is that, since he bought a $2 cup of house drink, he can drink half of that, then demand that they refill it with a cappuccino.

It doesn’t work that way.

Thats like Ordering a hamburger, eating have and telling them to give you a hotdog because you bought the wrapper.

“Personally, I hate cappuccino.”

Enter the policeman, big smile on his face, confusing opener.

This guy is a pro.

While gun play or a dive tackle would have made the morning a WHOLE lot more exciting, I am satisfied with the officer walking the drunk off.

You see, I haven’t gotten my coffee yet and mayhem would delay getting it.

And I just can’t have that.

The java monkey is an impatient mistress.

The drunk and the cop are sitting at a small table, chatting amiably.

The manager has sent over a cappuccino, free of charge.

Isn’t that just so FUCKING cute?

I hate the holidays.

If Thanksgiving was not last week, they’d be cleaning up the blood at this point.

I finally get my coffee properly creamed and sugared and I begin to feel better about all this.

Maybe its ok that the cop didn’t come on like a shark with blood in the water.

Lack of caffeine does that to me.

Five minutes later, I am in a different place, physically and java-wise.

I have decided to enjoy my coffee at the beach.

The air is crisp and cold, but the rising sun is warm.

Winter in Southern California.

Winter here is different than anywhere else.

Most people have winter’s that kill the unprepared.

Worst case scenario here?

You are temporarily cold and/or wet.

But never for long.

Winter is a slightly cooler summer with a less rare chance of rain.

And we like it that way.

Property values in Southern California are sky high and rents are never cheap.

Mornings like this are why that is.

It would be perfect if, while sipping my coffee and staring out at the ocean, if a pod of dolphins were to swim by, a flying V of geese were to fly by, something.

Instead a seagull shit on the railing and the spatter got on my arm.

Nature is vicious at times.

At least the coffee is hot.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on December 6, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,