I love coffee, I love tea, I love the Java Jive and it loves me Coffee and tea and the java and me, A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup! — Ben Oakland and Milton Drake, Java Jive Hi I’m Karl Elvis, […]
I love coffee, I love tea,
I love the Java Jive and it loves me
Coffee and tea and the java and me,
A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup!
— Ben Oakland and Milton Drake, Java Jive
Hi I’m Karl Elvis, and I’m a Java Junkie.
It’s true.
I love coffee. The smell. The taste. That buzz from the first sip of the morning. It’ll never feel that good again the rest of the day.
I wake up craving it. The thought makes me salivate.
I’m talking coffee; black and hot, with sugar and no other flavor. No nuts no vanilla. No milk. No syrups, no cinnamon, no chocolate. Just coffee. Strong and black, black black.
I make espresso. I make french press so heavy it’s hard to lift. My friend Amie Sue describes it as chewy.
I don’t fuck around with coffee. If it’s not strong, if it doesn’t roar coffee at you, I don’t want it.
When I go to a coffee bar, I usually drink espresso if they’re really good at it, or a multi-shot short (or tall at that place but we’ll make that a tirade for later). No lattes, no fuss. Once in a while a macchiato if they do it right, espresso with a little dab of foam.
The modern trend of kiddee-coffee that tastes like soda pop disgusts me.
But I am a junkie.
Sometimes I forget to buy coffee beans and I run out. And oh, I hate that.
I wake up and stumble from my bed to my office, log in, and then go to make coffee; and the bean jar is empty. Oh, shit fire hell.
I can barely get dressed without coffee. I’m helpless and stupid and go for nothing. I can barely find my boots. Driving is a scary adventure, I can’t really see or think. It’s lucky my nearest coffee bar is close, though alas it’s that place.
I sometimes think I’m too dependent. That I’m too much an addict. After surgery on my knee, when I was supposed to be headed home to sleep off the anesthesia, I made my ride stop at Peets to get me a coffee. I had to have the java, before pain meds, before food, before anything. I drank so much coffee yesterday that my head was vibrating and people thought I was mad because I was so wound up.
The rare times I actually don’t have any coffee, or if I don’t get much in the morning and forget, I have headaches that would knck an elephant down. I suffer, very rarely, from migraines and lack of caffeine will trigger one. An absolutely horrible feeling, particularly at night when it’s a choice of sleep or headache.
Because I’m not one of those lucky people who can pound a steaming mug and then sleep. I wish. Coffee late in teh day always keeps me from sleeping, so I try to avoid it after about 5pm. But I hear it call.
Don’t tell me about decaf. First, it just doesn’t taste as good. Second, it’s like… Like…
Decaf is like beer without alcohol. It’s like fake light butter. It’s like low-fat eggnog. It’s like vegan meat substitute meatloaf. It’s like a faked orgasm; none is ok, but a fake one is a fucking lie and an insult. There’s a coffee bar in Kehei on Maui that has a drink on their menu; decaf, low fat, sugar free something. It’s called the why bother. I love whomever put that on the menu. They understand.
Why bother? If it’s not the real deal, just fuck it, have something else. Butter shoudl be bad for you; don’t have any if you want to not have any. Eggnog should be bad for you. It should taste like melted ice cream. Have one great one instead of ten shitty ones. If you want to eat texturized vergatable protein, go for it, but don’t sculpt it into a chicken shape or pretend it tastes like meatloaf; it doesn’t. Turkey fucking pastrami? Fuck it.
Ok, decaf isn’t that bad. Honestly most of the time I would not taste the difference, at least not in a cappuccino. But I know. Andie, who understands this, told me it’s ok to make her decaf as long as I lie to her and tell her it’s regular. But the very idea of decaf bothers me.
So yeah. Maybe I should quit. But the fact is, I love my addiction. I love me some Java. I even have a pet rat named Java.
Jane says
She’s goin away to spain
When she gets my money saved
I’m gonna start tomorrow
I’m gonna kick tomorrow
Gonna kick tomorrow…
I take it black as a moonless night, but no sugar for me, thanks. If I want sweet I’ll grab a chai latte — it’s like drinking a piece of spice cake.
When I stop at “that place” (and sadly, here in suburban Austin “that place” is pretty much the only strong coffee option) it’s a Black Eye for me, no exceptions. And happily, I can drink coffee pretty much all day long. I mean, if I slam a few cups after 8 I’ll be buzzing ’til around midnight or so, but I can still sleep.
Mmmmm. Coffee.
I could offer contrary views on NA beer and 9-bean “meat”-loaf (come on, it’s not like meat loaf is meat’s natural shape), but I’m with you on the coffee.
For me, it’s cream, no sugar. I like quad lattes, since those extra two shots crowd out some of the room for milk. Or chewy french press with some half-and-half.
Normal day for me is a triple or quad latte in the morning, and then if I’m working late, another one before dinner. Homemade french press on the weekends. The second greatest thing about living near a large university is the number of very fine independent coffee houses close to my house. (The first greatest thing is left as an exercise for the reader.)
And lately, I’ve been really into the energy drinks. Red Bull is all right, but Sobe Adrenaline is like crack for me. I can’t go out to see a band at all without two of them to get me through.
I am a little concerned though about the effect all this coffee and other caffeine might have on the taste of my semen. Circe? Andie? Barb? Jeff? Anybody with knowledge want to comment?
Knowledge of your semen? Hmmm… well, last week, I’m pretty sure you must have just been doing the quad latte, ’cause I was pretty drowsy afterwards, remember? But last night I’m thinking you musta been mainlining the serious french press, because I been buzzing ever since that last swallow. Add some froth, baby, and let’s see what happens…
*Add* froth, she says.
One of my favorite songs, Karl. Thanks for reminding me! Ray? Seeing that I love coffee as much and possibly more than Karl, and I drink it all day…I can only imagine that your semen is delicious…*sigh*
Ray’s? What about… Or right. Yes. No need to wonder there. B^)
I MISS COFFEEEEE!!!!!
sniff.
whine.
I sleep better, I don’t have issues with my heart arrythmia, I’m less angry and more able to focus.
but.
But
But but but
I MISS coffee.
at home, french press, cream and sugar. At coffee places, virtually always a mocha. Everything is better with chocolate. =]
My favorite, favorite thing in the world to do used to be to smoke (mmhmmmm– not the tabaccy) and down a triple mocha, then go dance my brains out til about 3 in the morning. I loved the whirl of the caffeinated dance, and then afterwards, that loose, spent feeling. I slept like a babe those nights, or, occasionally, fucked til dawn. When I remember California, those are the nights that I think about, most of the time.
And now I can’t have either substance.
whine.
Oh, yess. I do. I do, I do I do!!!! *giggle*
Shhh! You said you’d never tell.
Oh, yeah! Coffee! Strong, black and bitter for me! Fortunately for me almost all cafés in Amsterdam serves very good coffe and espresso, so there is plenty of java to go around. And, no, we don’t have “that place” here. At least no yet.
But in amsterdam, you can get hashish in your capuccino. So you have a huge advantage.
Here in the sates, we can’t even GET hashish, let alone get it all legal-like.
This is all very interesting, but I’m still trying to figure out how Ray is going to add froth to his semen. That just sounds painful (and not is a good way).
Actually, what I had in mind was somebody swishing it around in their mouth a little.
If you’re very flexible, Ray, you could do that yourself.
If I was that flexible, I wouldn’t have a whole lot of time for blog-reading.
So far I’ve blown up 2 espresso machines (from blocking pressure valve w/ alum foil) and burnt up at least one more. But this morning at QuikTrip I put a CUP of fresh grounds in a 52 oz cup, poured it full and let it steep for about an hour, stirring occasionally.
WOW! It’s now 3:30am and no sandman in sight. I used to just eat the grounds, but that’s a little rough on the system. Maybe next time I should use a little less. . .
Maybe you should switch to crack, Dano.