Death After Life

The day started well. He had felt a curious sense of calm as he rocked out of the Tempur-pedic, flossed his teeth twice, and made eggs, two of which he fed to the turtle. Six capsules went down with eight ounces of fruit punch, and in a bathrobe, he sat down at his 1963 Remington, and began to type.

Coffee Culture: Slave to the Popular

Thank you, Friends, for introducing our society to the mind numbing and ever prevalent notion of coffee culture. Because I, like the rest of the world, have nothing but an abundance of free time and a burning desire to sulk on a cushy sofa, in the middle of the bustling city, and sip some half moldy, ten dollar drip for two hours straight.