Coffee is an excuse. Coffee is a fuel. Coffee would blow my heart up faster than a Kardashian marriage. It may be a bit of a cliche but again, cliches are cliches because they’re true. My heart when I’m chilled beats approximately 280 times. A normal human heart does about 75 a minute. If I were to splash some dark morning nectar onto that 280, it could easily double. If that were to double, the first thing that would happen is I would hear my heart beating faster and louder. It would be as if John Bonham were using my chest as a bass drum. Then, I’d really have a freak out. I’d be seeing things that weren’t there. I’d be talking fast, making no sense…it would be scary to say the least.
I remember one time I caught a whiff of Frank’s coffee breath. Then next thing I remember I was in a pine tree holding onto a spool of thread and a french fry talking to a teddy bear. Granted, Frank takes his coffee black so I probably got a stronger hit that if I were to smell Lezley’s coffee breath…which has cream, caramel, chocolate and some sort of nut involved.
I don’t touch the stuff. I’m allergic to breaking the sound barrier.
