COVERED IN BEES!!!
wait… I did that already, didn’t I?
filling big cups, and four or five times a day?
I like my coffee like I like my men… strong, extra sweet, and Canadian.
(My boyfriend’s Canadian and visiting him has cultivated in me a strong Horton’s addiction. And I’m a sugar addict.)
Bitter and murky!
Did someone say cheap and nutty? That’s me.
sweet but weak and drenched in half-and-half.
(Actually the way I like my coffee is “on ice” but I don’t think women would be good that way.)
…often.
…wet.
…in my mouth.
…instant.
…short and pretty, able to play the piano, clever and intelligent.
It’s hard enough finding a woman like that–imagine trying to find coffee like that. Waaaaay more expensive than Jamaican Blue Mountain!
I like my women like I like my coffee… keeping me awake all night…
mm
Full of beans.
Orally.
So there’s this airline crew flying along…
The Captain is going on to the First officer about all of the exotic women that he has lined up in the different cities that he flies to. Tall ones, short ones, dark ones, light ones, etc.
About this time the flight attendant comes up front and asks the pilots if they’d like something to drink.
The Captain says he’d like a cup of coffee. “How do you take your coffee?” she asks.
“I like my coffee like I like my women…” the Captain says, and smugly eyes the flight attendant.
“Captain,” she says, “I can’t make you a stupid cup of coffee.”
Ba-da-boom!
But we know he eats stupid food for breakfast.
…rich, and with exquisite taste.
Cheap and easily available.
…hot, black, and bitter.
Old and slightly funky?
High on the mountain.
I like my coffee like I like my women…
…tied up in a burlap sack and slung over the back of a donkey.
Hey, that’s me! Come on over, and I’ll make ya some coffee. 