Coffee is my cocaine

With all this buz in the news media about an energy drink called cocaine and throwing all of the law-makers into a tizzy, I'd like to add that coffee is my cocaine. I'd like one venti caramel macchiato, iced, with extra caramel; from Starbucks of course. No matter where I go, the drink will give me a buzz. A good buzz none-the-less. Some Starbucks tend to make their drinks slightly different. The one in Nasau, Bahamas makes theirs really well. They seperate the cream from the coffee and pour on the caramel. Allowing me to either mix it up, or drink the cream first, or drink it little by little by moving the straw around to various regions in the cup. Whipcream is a nice touch, if they remember to put it on that is.

So today involved waking up of the brain. Here are the ingredients if you'd like to make it yourself.

• 1qt hemorage
• 4lb of beaten brain
• 2lb of smacked in the head asprin

Although none of that did the trick so after I had managed to throw my legs off the bed and stand up, I took a step (maybe it was two steps) over to the fridge where a black Senseo one-cup pod coffee machine sits. In an E.T. sort of way I greet the Senseo with my extended index finger "...friend." It gurgles away, boiling the water contained within it's belly contently. The minute or so it takes to do it's churning, gives me the chance to throw some water on my face, brush my teeth, and do the needful. Ah, the little fella has stopped blinking it's one and only eye at me and is starring me down. Lifting the latch upon it's head, I replace it's brain with one of a Columbian Supremo blend. It makes me wonder if the thing had a mouth, yet even a voice, would it have a Columbian accent? Would it be in the drug cartel? Would it be high on cocaine?

Ah, I had almost forgotten the creamer, which is white, like cocaine, but with a taste that of vanilla. Not the sky kind, the caramel kind. After preparing my adeptly labeled "No I will not fix your computer!" mug, I poke at the thing to make just one cup. Ahh, satisfaction guaranteed. Cocaine in a cup. Off to the next point in the business: get ready for work and do some work.

11:30 p.m. rolls on by and I realize that we're in Key West, Florida today. What could be in Key West that could possibly peak my interest? Perhaps it is those shops that are perculating around town dotted with on lookers sitting in window seats and starring out at the local ruffians walking by. Perhaps it's the tourists thinking what a marvelous thing to have on such an island as this. It's almost like having a McDonnald's in Japan. What a concept. A Starbucks in Key West. Must be for all the drunkeness that goes on during the night. Those ruffians do need a pick-me-up to get going where ever it is they're going to.

Never once in my travels have I ever seen a biker go into Starbucks and order a Green Chai Latte. What would his buddies think? Whatever. In my civilian clothes, camo shorts, tank, snake-eyes casino leather cap, and iPod, I make my way to the local ruffian stop that is known simply as Starbucks around town. Ahh, satesfaction guaranteed. I got my cocaine. I'd like one venti caramel macchiato, iced, with extra caramel. No matter where I go, the drink will give me a buzz. A good buzz none-the-less.

**BUZZ** Ah, there is my dinner and there is the end of this post.