Things You Put In Coffee

Sugar - Acceptable, as long as you're not one of those people that puts enough in your cup to send a diabetic into a stricken, shambling gate down the hallway, his slowly-turning-purple lips desperately trying to form the word, "insulin." I mean, do you really need a sugar rush on top of the caffeine boost? Freddy Krueger isn't going to get you if you fall asleep; that was just a movie. Also, stay away from all the Splendas and the Sweet N' Lows and the Equals and all the other cancerous powders that the government insists are better for you, even though they've got a dumpster full of a dead lab rats that say otherwise. Use the raw, natural stuff that grows on farms. Sure, you'll end up looking like Marlon Brando in his declining years (when he started to resemble a large, poorly-upholstered sofa) but that beats dying from a tumor so large, it has teeth, fingernails, and an undergrad degree from Fresno State.

Nothing - Saying the phrase, "I'll take mine black," makes every other penis in the room shrivel up and hide like a fighter plane is strafing the greater crotch region of it's owner's pants. Coffee, unadorned, tastes like crap. Unless you're getting some sort of fancy-schmancy coffee from Belgium or Italy or Heaven or whatever that's been farted on by virgins and blessed by nine Cardinals and flavored with the tears of the Christ child right before the Wise Men showed up all, "We've got gifts, homes!" That probably tastes okay. But the regular coffee that you get like in offices and car dealerships and airport terminals... put that junk next to a bucket of hot diarrhea and you'd be hard pressed to tell the difference, were it not for the chunks. So if you can drink coffee without anything added to it... well, then... you're officially the boss. Of everything and everyone. What can we do for you, you magnificent son of a bitch?

Milk or Cream - Gross. I mean, I like milk and cream... love what they've done for baked goods and chowders... but they don't belong in any cup of coffee that I'd personally want to be involved with. I mean, you like the taste of burnt milk? Really? Do you also like it when babies get stolen by wolves and Prom Queen's get hacked to death by escaped lunatic circus clowns and whole towns get swallowed up by the Devil because he got hungry one day? Why do you like all these horrible things? Why are you such a horrible person. Every dead serial killer just appeared to me in a fever dream and said, "Yeah, I know, but did you see that guy... he likes milk or cream in his coffee. We're all officially disgusted, and we've eaten drifters." So, like, by all means keep putting milk and cream in your coffee. But know that John Wayne Gacy and Ted Bundy and The Night Stalker and Jeffery Dahmer think you're just awful.

Flavored Syrups - What the fuck is your problem? Coffee isn't supposed to taste like "Vanilla Swirl" or "Snickerdoodle Surprise" or "Mocha Java Cartwheel" or "Mixed Berry Yogurt shoved up the Candy Man's Ass." Coffee, as previously stated, is supposed to taste like hot nastiness. That's the American way! A little sugar, maybe, to take the edge off... some milk, if that's the way you lean (you sick fuck)... But. That. Is. It. None of this "Pomegranate Wing-Wang" or "Frosted Cream Cheese Sex Machine" or "Apple Pie a la Your Mom." That's for little girls, and you're not a little girl anymore, no matter what your Strawberry Shortcake bloomers might lead people to believe. You wear them for comfort, and that's fine. You sissy.

Whiskey - There was a time in my life where putting whiskey in my coffee was the only thing that got me up in the morning. Thankfully I've moved on from those days. Yep, now I wake up, take a hot shower, skip the coffee, and just drink the whisky straight from the bottle while crying under a bridge. Then, after hitting the Off-Track Betting joint, it's on to work! Where I drink whiskey straight from the bottle while crouched under my desk. Don't fucking bother me, I've got knife, man. But yeah, some whiskey in your coffee is a no-sweat way to make your day a tap-dancing miracle of glitter lights and moving sidewalks that whisk you to Happiness Junction, which is a small suburb of Life Is Great-istan. The noon hangovers are no joke, though, so watch out for those.