That New Coffee Shop That is Everywhere Pt 1

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Excerpt from Coffeefanblog.com
March 12, 2018
Hello, Coffeefans! I’m Coffeefidel and I started this blog for people like us who love coffee.
I have loved coffee for as long as I can remember and probably before I was born. Most kids hate the taste of coffee, but I drank a sippy cup full of the stuff (decaf of course) every morning. On my ninth birthday, my parents gave me a bag of regular coffee beans, which is still my happiest childhood memory. The other kids thought I was strange, but that was OK. Coffee was my friend and you can’t normally drink your friends, so in many ways, it was better.
As I know you know, the best cup of coffee is a cup you make yourself because you can control every aspect of the production to your own taste. The perfect cup has a different temperature, severity, viscosity, velocity, and flange for every Coffeefan and you can’t trust any Strombicks barista to follow your directions just right. Nonetheless, I like going to coffee shops. Coffee shops are where I do most of my writing and in fact I am in one right now. It’s an interesting new shop that for some reason I can’t remember the name of at the moment. It’s already a big chain with locations all over my city and probably yours (I won’t tell you where I am, but this shop is everywhere). I think I will visit a few more locations before I give them a full review on The Coffeefanblog. I may even resist the urge to bring my own coffee and test theirs. Look forward to that and remember to never stop dripping!
Coffeefidel
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Een

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Beans for Dinner

Beans for Dinner (Photo credit: texascooking)

Normorine had quite a few spleens

in a big box, next to various creams

He washed his pet fish (its name was Trish)

and boiled a pot of beans

Yumbleston Bleen had a terrible dream

in which Normorine had taken his spleen

When he awoke, he knew the dream misspoke

and boiled a pot of beans

The Chain Letter of Doom: Part Seven: The Chain Letter of Cheer

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Elodie skips cheerfully across the street to the location in the email. She stops and surveys her surroundings to confirm that yes, it is a river. She can tell this because it is full of flowing water and that water is very wet. This is completely expected and not evidence of an apocalypse of any kind, so she sniffs the air. Toffee and fear. Also dog. It must be the right place after all.

Between where she stands and the river are 13 of her schoolmates, buried neck-deep in pudding-filled pits. She recognizes Rika, Staniford, Gil, Drusilla, Barth, Shelly, and a bunch of vaguely familiar faces she doesn’t know the names of. One of those pits has no person inside. It must be hers.

The source of the dog-smell is napping on a somehow-solid cloud about four feet over the heads of the pudding pits. It has become a thing much less puppulent than its smell. It looks simultaneously exactly like a wildebeest, a giant squid, a school bus, a badger, and a hurricane. To Elodie, a great relief.

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

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adoring baboons

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

They bake and boil beans

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

They’re usually not green

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

And rarely ever seen

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

They hide in the latrine.

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

They bounce beyond the beach

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

They are always just out of reach

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

You must bury them in bleach

Britain’s Bizarre Baboons

You bloody can’t; they’re out of reach.

 

http://mysteriousuniverse.org/2012/01/britains-bizarre-baboons/