When good coffee goes bad..

I am such an uber grumpy biotch today.

I made the Tiffers go away, I angered James with tactless abruptitude, I accidentally hit One Iris while I was sleeping.

Some one just walked in. I will kill them.

It was the Tiffers. I roasted her to ashes with my menacing death stare 9,000. I'm sorry Tiffers. Rise like a P-hoe-nix from your pile of charred remains, and go to sun your white ass in the back yard. Fire crotch!

I am utterly evil.

This is what you will become if you move to Austin and are allergic to anything at all. Don't do it. Try New Mexico. Everything is dead there so nothing can kill you. Except rattlesnakes.

Fuck it, I'm getting a bubble to live in.

We tried to lift our communal spirits earlier by going to Spiderhouse for coffee. We even brought One Iris who escaped by crawling under the less than secure fence and also she scratched my leg, but she is so cute and she always snores. I love her. Things seemed to be going along swimmingly; it's a beautiful day, we listened to Playground Love on the way over, Iris is a cycolps, we're going to have coffee. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, this'll teach you to count all your chickens' eggs before they hatch in one basket.

I order my large coffee (yes large, I deserve a special treat today) and prepare it with the utmost care, slowly stirring in the carefully apportioned unrefined sugar crystals, pouring in the thick, rich half & half in a circular fashion, the black coffee ribboned with white swirls of heaven as it gradually turns to mocha, and then to that perfect shade of caramel. The undulating, convoluting spectral steam rises from the ambrosial surface as I carry my prized fluid concoction to the table, where I plan to sip it contentedly in the soft, enveloping spring sunlight.

As I make myself comfortable in my tetanus infested, yet delightfully quirky retro chair, I reach for my coffee, skipping over the inhalation of the roasted bean aroma since I can't smell for shit right now, close my eyes in a relaxed anticipation, bring the cup to my lips, and take the first glorious sip. Ahhhhhhhh.....

Wait! No! Not 'ahhh....' at all. More like 'AHHH!'

I can't taste a god damn thing. Seriously nothing at all. That's when I realized why I couldn't taste the foulness that are my unbrushed teeth.

All the joy is gone from my life.

Some people eat to live, some people live to eat. And if you know me at all, you'll know that I am part of the latter group. Why has god not only given me horrendous allergies, but, to add insult to injury, taken away my means of indulging my one true passion; my sense of taste?

Take my eyes!

Take my nose! (oh wait you already did you mother fucker!)

Goddammit!

Nothing really interesting happened at all today, so I said to the Tiffers, "Do something interesting, " and she made a funny face. It was slightly interesting.

One thing though... We went on a bike ride this morning to get the blood flowing before breakfast you know, and One Iris rode in the basket of the front of my bike which the Tiffers was riding, and we passed by this guy with his dog who was both big, and shitting and I said, "That dog is taking a shit. DROP THAT DEUCE!" and his owner laughed and the Tiffers and I also laughed as we kept peddling by, but I was also a little embarrassed at being white trash. Either that or I'm 'delightfully tacky, yet unrefined' to borrow from Hooters.

I'm going to go refill my 'single use' Jack-in-the-Box styrofoam giganti-cup with ice water, and enjoy it thoroughly since water doesn't taste like anything and I can't taste anything, therefore we are soul mates.