COFFEE AND CONVERSATION

As you probably know, I drink my caffeinated beverages mostly alone, facing the bleakness and emptiness of a life filled with the existential self-doubt and stress of deciding which pipe to smoke when I go out for a solitary stroll around the neighborhood in the cold grim darkness before dawn. "Blah", I seem to say, "more dog pooh".
And step over the pile steaming there.
A sad, sad world.

In this I am the only one. Other people wake up to an extroverted dog licking their face with an urgent need. They go out to tend to business, before returning home for half an hour of yoga, glutenfree wheaties and holistic yogurt, possibly a shower, then slaving eight or nine hours at the office working on a high-tech project that will save the world.

They are upset that some people are more at ease.
Even happy, when drinking coffee.


"My husband and I wake up every morning and bring our coffee out to our garden and sit and talk for hours. Every morning. It never gets old & we never run out of things to talk (about). Love him so much."
------Daisey Beaton, on October 21.


Apparently that tweet offpissed some people. The twittiverse reacted with outrage. Daisey Beaton was flooded with bile. Because vacuous twats in Twuntville were highly upset at the happiness of her life. And felt that suffering over cups of coffee was more appropriate.

How odd. I have always considered caffeinated beverages a source of joy.
Civilization did not start until hot drinks were introduced.
Glutenfree wheaties had zilch to do with it.


Gardens are very nice. Enjoying a cup of coffee there is great.
If I were married I should like to do so.
If I had a garden.



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