my black mistress, my secret love

My coffee revirginity was taken tonight by a nice older woman at the gas station who hooked me up with a 20oz black Colombian blend. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve found myself in the hot embrace of my steamy black mistress, but goddamn have I missed her. She always perks me right up, shakes away the fatigue, and of course, scalds my tongue in the best way possible.

I was proud of myself for shaking my favorite, daily addiction, but nothing good lasts forever. Eventually, even the strongest of men succumbs to temptation once again. Like an alcoholic bartender, the daily temptation got the best of me and I gave into my sinister urges. I fought it for, literally, months.

I quit coffee cold turkey just randomly. I literally went from 6 cups to a pot a day, plus a bunch of soda, to just the soda. Then I cut back on the soda, too. I guess I never shook it completely, but the thing I loved most I gave up. I’m telling myself it’s just a temporary fix… a tool while I stay up and write my review of Get Smart for Den of Geek, but will it stay there? I don’t know; work coffee is one thing, but the little coffee and wifi place on the corner with the good coffee? The gas station with its 6 varieties of java and infinite creamers, flavors, and sweeteners (AKA the coffee whorehouse, where all your dreams come true on the cheap no matter what you like) and constant fresh pot availability? That’s another thing.

It’s not that I feel bad about drinking the coffee; I mostly feel weak for having given up on my exile from Java. It’s not as though I quit caffeine (that’s pretty impossible, since I think caffeine is in the drinking water now), but instead of grabbing a sugar free Red Bull or some Vault Free, I walked past the soda display entirely and straight to the good stuff. The smell… mmm, the smell! I missed it. I missed the sensation of the heat on my tongue, the steam in my nose, the warmth of the cup between my hands… I missed the whole coffee experience.

Let’s never fight again, Dark Roast. I’ve missed you so much, 100% Colombian. Come over here and let me get a good taste of you, Premium Blend. Energy coffee, I’ve never had your hypercaffeinated kiss, but I welcome it. It’s been a long three months.

long haired freaky people need not apply

I’ve been letting my hair grow for quite some time. Why? I don’t know (which is the same reason why I grew my muttonchops). I’m just too lazy to get a haircut, I guess.

I’ve had long hair in the past, and while it was okay, it wasn’t great. Like, my world wasn’t changed the night I got stinking drunk on Red Dog beer and Tango (pre-mixed vodka and orange drink screwdriver) and woke up with my hair in a French braid (I also had lipstick and eye shadow on, but that’s for a totally different reason). It was just a thing I did in college because I wanted to look like a greasy, bloated martial arts star. Here’s an artist’s rendering of what that looked like (just add beard).

Because I don’t like shaving, over the last two weeks or so, I’ve grown a full, horrible beard, which combined with my wild, shaggy hair, caused one of my coworkers to send me a picture in work email with the subtitle “Ron, December 2008.”

While I have lost a lot of weight (135-150lbs) since I had my long hair, I don’t think I’m quite at that level yet. For one thing, my hair is very fine and thick, but also very straight, so it doesn’t really fall in waves like that unless I tie it back into a pony tail while it is still wet. For another thing, I’m shaped more like ‘bloated, about to die’ Jim Morrison than ‘light my fire in the panties of girls all throughout the world in the mid-60s’ Jim Morrison, even after losing all that weight.

However, I don’t think it’s a bad look, even for a gorilla like myself. I could possibly pull it off with a little bit of trimming to the beard. Since I’ve given up coffee (almost a month without my favorite non-alcoholic breakfast beverage) and cut way back on sodas and caffeine pills, I’ve got the tortured genius look down pat with the bags under my eyes and the general weariness that’s soaked into every clogged pore in my face since I still can’t sleep well at night (even having cut back drastically on my caffeine levels and cocaine intake).

The beard and crazy hair just ties it all together, just ask Ted Kaczynski.

Author’s Note: Yes, I have completely quit coffee and yes, it is torture. Every time I smell coffee I want to dash over and drink a cup or five, but because I figured sucking down enough caffeine to kill a horse every day was probably bad for me, I quit cold turkey.

Author’s Note 2: No, I haven’t actually quit doing cocaine. That’s only because I never started using cocaine; I’m a crystal meth guy. That’s why I’ve got such nice dentures.