Category Archives: Crippling Caffeine Addictions

Starbucks Trenta: Probably a bit much, unless you’re a horse

GateHouse — One night, while working late in Chicago many years ago, I ordered a venti Starbucks coffee at about 11 p.m., finished my shift at midnight, got into the car and drove through Canada. It was the easiest drive I ever made. I was totally awake for the whole trip, first through Michigan (which back then still had money for highway asphalt, which was nice), and then Canada, which was clean, uninterrupted landscape broken only by the occasional rest stop and impromptu all-moose Gordon Lightfoot cover-band concert.

The venti totally kept me up through the night, through the rhythm and monotony of the dark, deserted highway, although to be fair it helped that I needed to find a bathroom every 9 minutes. And once safely back in New York, I stopped for breakfast, switched places with my wife, and stone-cold passed out in the passenger seat for approximately the next three days.

I bring this up because until recently the Starbucks venti, which singlehandedly propelled me through an evening of treacherous international travel, was among the largest coffee-delivery vessels you could purchase in America without applying for a federal exemption (thank you very much Obamacare). But the venti is a wee candypants Dixie cup joke next to a gut-blurchingly Starbucks cup called the Trenta, which means “thirty” in Italian and “If you don’t tell me where the bathroom is now, I am not going to be responsible to what’s about to happen to this couch” in pretty much every other language.

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Yeah, GORDON LIGHTFOOT HAS A SONG ABOUT COFFEE. #thingsIdidn’tknowuntilIwrotethis

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And on the eighth day there was Dunkin’ Donuts, and it was good

To stop those monsters, 1-2-3 / Here's a fresh new way that's trouble-free / It's got Paul Anka's guaranteeeeeee

Island Packet — So they opened a Dunkin’ Donuts in Beaufort. I know they opened a Dunkin’ Donuts in Beaufort because I have been pleading for it, because I have bothered the business reporter about it for months with the fierce relentlessness of the tiger, because I lived for a short while at the work site, having built a lean-to out of whatever discarded items I could scrounge up — tires, playground equipment, THANK YOU VERIZON FOR YOUR ROCK-SOLID SPONSORSHIP signs —  and waited patiently, living there for months, like the “Into The Wild” guy except less in search of pure personal revelation and more of things filled with jelly that leave your face a swamp of icing.

I did this not necessarily just for the donuts, but also for the majestic moment when I could walk through that door, into that breathtaking wonderland of dough and sprinkles and future heart concerns, and order a Large Coffee With Cream And Sugar, which represents the pinnacle of human achievement as it pertains to coffee and, as a bonus, arrives in a cup the approximate size of a container ship (with a Large Coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts, one could, very easily, caffeinate a horse).

Now, I understand that some of you may be wondering what could possibly be worth getting this worked up about, but you are wondering this only if you’re the type for whom coffee is a fleeting pleasure, rather than something required by your addicted, shattered DNA if you hope to consider getting out of the bed in the morning. If this is the case, we have little in common.

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Download: 6rBs6w

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Coffee Makes You Immortal, or, Last Night A Decaf Saved My Life

This has nothing to do with anything, but is awesome.

GateHouse — Because Science is difficult and includes many absurd words and phrases with which I am not familiar, such as “continuum” and “polyphenols” and “mice,” I have a new personal rule in which I only read studies in the news that pertain directly, indisputably to me.

I am not interested in studies about “global warming,” or “people who have scurvy,” or “ways I can personally improve the greater good by changing a few minor, convenient personal habits, such as not driving a Nissan Armada or setting the thermostat lower than 82.” I am a very, very busy person, and Science is a large field that also apparently covers rocks and outer space, and I don’t know who has the time to keep up with all this flip-flopping — eggs are good for you, no they’re bad, and you should drink eight cups of water a day except that you shouldn’t, and you’re not supposed to eat walrus meat when you’re pregnant, etc. etc.

So unless Science can magic me up a helper monkey or something to take care of all this “reading,” I’m gonna just choose which studies to subscribe to (Note to Science: I would also accept a helper walrus, because I am not a picky man, and tusks are neat).

Anyway, shortly after enacting this new set of personal bylaws, I came across a study in the Newspaper — which is the weird, papery thing that will print tomorrow news that you read on the Internet an hour ago — that said that people who drink coffee may, in fact, live longer than those who do not.

This news caused my hands to begin shaking uncontrollably, although I don’t know if that was due to the study or caffeine, because on any given morning I put down enough coffee to kill anyone over the age of 55; enough coffee to, if distilled properly, actually power an oscillating fan; enough coffee that I would basically save tremendous time and effort by just chawing on beans. (Note: I am kidding; chawing on beans tends to make teeth the color and consistency of a saloon barrel, not that I’ve tried or anything).

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The coffee maker is broken. Many dozens will be killed.

drink-coffee-magnet-c11750048GateHouse — I am aware that it is the holiday season and a time for rebirth and rededication and optimism and a drive to excise those parts of your personality that other people mock when you’re not around.

But I don’t care, because my coffee maker’s broken, and my mind is basically a hot burbling Black Sabbath record right now. I’m pretty sure that if a troop of Girl Scouts came by to sell me cookies on Sunday morning, there is a reasonable chance that I would pour an oversized oak bucket of rubber cement on them. Unless, of course, they were one of those Girl Scout troops that sells coffee makers door-to-door, in which case I’d be helpful and caring, as long as they made their sales pitch extremely, extremely fast.

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Download: 6rBs6w

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My New Coffee Maker Is Totally Going To Score Me $100,000

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Well I hope it's a long wedding, because it's going to be a short honeymoon.

Island Packet — Have you ever actually sat down and read the instruction manual to a Black and Decker 12-cup coffee maker? I mean, ever really taken it in, absorbed it deeply? Because it’s phenomenal, and not just because it apparently wields the power to score you one hundred thousand dollars. AMERICAN dollars! Which I know is worth about $3,550 now, but it’s still cool.

I don’t think I’d ever truly considered the possibility of receiving buckets of cash because of an appliance until last week, when I broke the carafe on my old coffee maker by placing it in the dishwasher in a manner that apparently caused several hundred pounds of force to be applied to it mid-rinse cycle, because when I pulled the thing out of the dishwasher there was a giant angry-looking crack in the side of it, staring at me, judging me, mocking me.

No, it is not often that I believe I am being personally made fun of by beverage containers, with the exception of the time that 24-pack of Dr. Pepper made fun of my popped collar, but this particular carafe and I had a very close, intimate relationship, as we were basically the first item the other greeted in the morning for many, many years. Frankly, I think it got tired of having to serve me every day, and killed itself in the dishwasher, probably with a wet fork.

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Download: 3VCs8a

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