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

Duh…

Creamy!

My wife always got a kick out of:
I like my coffee like I like my women: Hot and At Work.

you see, I never drank coffee at home, just at work

So, completely phony, you mean? :slight_smile:

Well, the kind of girls that would single up on me…

:stuck_out_tongue:

I like my women like I like my coffee…something in which to dip my biscotti.
Being a fan of Guinness and Amber Bock, I can substitute beer for coffee, i.e. I like my women like I like my beer…tall, thick, bitter and there has to be good head.

I like my women like I like my coffee…

…hot and silent

I like them both dead.

With whipped cream and sprinkles.

Shaken, not stirred.
Wha??!! Oh, sorry, wrong beverage.

“Bartender? Check, please.”

Who’s got the coffee?

He’s probably the funniest person that ever lived. Probably.

I don’t know why and I don’t particularly like the fact that I am, but I am highly amused by this.

…liquored up!

I like my women how I like my coffee…

…hot at first, gross the next day.

…hand-picked by a guy in Columbia.

…with free refills.

(Courtesy of Spinster, whose trial has run out, and who has not ponied up (yet).

For years my father found this the height of hilarity. My mother and I were not of the same opinion :smiley:

VCNJ~

Coffee:
In their cups.
In the bag.
With a little room for cream.

Cheese:
Crusty and mature.
Flaky.
Strong-smelling.
Full of holes.

Grown in Latin America, but imported to the U.S. still nice and fresh.

Resurrected after six months.

Strong enough to stand a spoon up in.

I like 'em both better once I’ve added cream to them. :slight_smile: