Sunday, December 30, 2007

I like my women like I like my coffee...

I like my women like I like my coffee…

  • hot and black
  • light and sweet
  • Ethiopian
  • in the morning, in bed
  • simple and earthy, but with exciting, nutty undertones
  • tall, non-fat
  • hand-picked from among the finest in the world
  • in the kitchen
  • raised on the shady slopes of the South American countryside
  • shared among several coworkers at the office
  • artificially sweet, cold as ice
  • intensely, but without ever admitting dependency
  • from a small, independent and communally operated farm
  • in my lap, as I scream out violently, clutching my genitals in agony
  • bitter, possibly older than originally believed
  • in the car, on the way to work, not like a lazy gold-digging bitch, Diane!
  • full of vodka
  • cheap, available on various street-corners in the wee hours of the morning
  • covered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce... what?
  • the product of hasty and distracted teenagers, brought into the world with little fanfare and abandoned without so much as a name
  • …in the sense that I don’t actually find myself that interested in coffee these days, and that I think I might maybe like to start drinking tea…

4 comments:

invisible_hand said...

ground up and in the freezer?

Admiral Meriweather said...

-steaming hot on the kitchen table
-owing me five million dollars after making a mess in my lap in the car

invisible_hand said...

with a shot of cream.

Kyle said...

Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you. I like my women like my coffee.
...I don't really like coffee.