Today, waking, was like no other day...other than the lack of ground up Colombian coffee crystals. I need my morning jolt, and this need of mine isn't any different from any other living souls, except maybe Mormons, so I'm not special that way. But the fact is, if I don't have my coffee I could easily be persuaded into joining a cult group. My lovely girlfriend is in the same boat, with her caffeine disability. She's recently joined the sister cult of the Manson family, the Traveling Marilyn Sisters, where snuffing out snooty bitches with their own faux Louis Vuitton bags is their choice of early morning mass killings. But only if they don't get their cappuccinos and soy frappuccinos.
And another thing, but off the subject, kind of, but not really. Why are all Colombian exports uppers? Coffee beans, cocaine, and Colombian actress boobs! Don't know what your thinking on the subject is, but it's enough to set off a massive myocardial infarction.
Anyway, back to murder. Without coffee I'm both worthless and an asshamper, all within the same sentence and moment. People don't like me when I don't have my four shots of mocha joy and then, usually sometime during the day, another trip to Starbucks for another four shots of caffeinated love. It's bad. Real bad. I've had people tell me that I oughta just hook up an IV directly to the vein in my arm. Ha ha ha!!! Real funny scumsuckers! Truth is, I'm working on a contraption that would tap directly into my aorta, bypassing veins altogether, kind of like an insulin pump, but for caffeine addicts and not diabetics. Veins are for pussies!
Needless to say, I needs me my coffee. Okay? And I know that I'm not the only one that needs that shot of liquid life in the morning. Not by a long shot. A lot of people do, otherwise coffee wouldn't be one of the largest imports/exports internationally.
So, after not finding any coffee this morning, and having to make an emergency trip to the local grocery store for a jug of the ground up goods, I got back to the office where I found an article on my mahogany desk that my assistant, Ms. Periwinkle placed on my desk.
Goes like this.
Seems a Woody Will Smith (not making up the Woody part, nor the Will Smith part) is being tried for murdering his wife.
|THIRD LEADING COLOMBIAN EXPORT|
Huh? So because Woody couldn't control himself when he drove by Starbucks, he got himself so 'black drip drunk', that he just had to run out, purchase some extension cords (didn't want to unplug the HDTV) and strangle his wife. This was on the heels of her threatening to take the kids and leave him. So, once again, he killed her dead, because he had TOO much coffee!
Sounds to me that "brief psychosis" over came at him at all the wrong time, all the while holding a "Worlds Greatest Dad" mug in his hands.
I have a problem with this defense. First off...Woody, lay off the fucking coffee, you dickwipe. Don't you, after your eleventh or twelve cup of the day get that acidic feeling in your guts that makes you feel as if poisonous eels are eating you from the inside out?
Secondly, if you were drunk on caffeine, or say, pure grain alcohol, or hopped up on, let's just throw out as an example...oh, I got it, psilocybin mushrooms, and you were to strangle your wife, or run down a group of kids coming from the mall, or even drop an anvil off your home on a young man selling magazines door to door trying to find his way to Cabo for his senior class trip, well, if all this were to happen, because you were 'drunk' or experiencing 'brief psychosis' you'd find your sorry ass locked up!
Because being outta your fucking mind is not an excuse. Not because of over consumption, not because you had one two many, not because you're 'ignorant' of your situation and certainly not because your irate that your boss fired because he video taped you pissing in the community coffee pot. Drunk on coffee is as much of an excuse as being a fucking moron, you moron!
Now excuse me, before I have to murder someone. I need a java refill, and as you all know, lack of coffee IS an excuse to kill.