Man, I’m all sittin’ on the screened porch with no shirt, catchin’ some rays in this Native American summer we’re havin’ her’ ‘n th’ Sout’ and all I can think is “What’s missing from this Rockwellian scene? What will make my urban neighbors and the business next door love me even more?”
A fucking beer. The morning (afternoon) coffee, to be fucking precise. Terrapin Goddamn Wake N Bake. (Or coffee imperial bullshit oatmeal porter for those pussies who made a stink.)
wake n bacon
Godjesus, this is some great fucking coffee. Thick, cold and black, like I like my beer. And goddammit I wish it was socially acceptable to be drinking a beer in the middle of the day like this before work. Guess I’ll have to pour this one out and wait until later. Or put it in a to-go mug for the road, all whitely commuting to the day job, pleated pants and a sense of entitlement.
But fuck if I’m not craving a Founders Breakfast Stout right now. Yes, that would be better.
