Blake's Awesome Coffee

Our nation's best authors must have all been friendless, bitter little shits because it's probably the only way they could get anything done. Now, I'm sure that starting the day at 2pm wasn't the best way to get things done, but 10 hours later I feel no sense of accomplishment whatsoever. Last night's festivities lasted well into the AM and this morning brought no inspiration to complete things. I went with Phil to the mall to get his haircut. My only incentive was Auntie Anne.

This second story is killing me. I've combined several of ya'lls less outlandish ideas into some bastardized frankenstory. Since it's not due until Tuesday at midnight, that's probably when I'll finish it, so that's probably when you'll get to read it. I'll warn you, I don't think I like it despite the occassional admirable wordsmithing. The title of this post is the name of the coffee place I use in the story, which coincidentally, I stole from the Mitch Clem o'er at Coffee Achievers.

Tomorrow I've got meetings practically all day. Senior design at noon, exec at two, and then some kind of judicial review in the evening. All-in-all I'll probably spend six hours in meetings tomorrow. That's six hours I won't get to spend on this paper and other random homeworks. This is troublesome.

I've fallen in love with another TV show that, ironically, has already been cancelled. Phil got the first season of Dead Like Me for christmas and we've been watching it. The show was on Showtime and was cancelled after two seasons (both of which I've downloaded) but it was such a good show. Ellen Muth, if you're reading this, please come back. America needs you. I need you.

Also, this is a formal "fuck you" to anyone that gets off on Monday because of Martin Luther King day. There are no presents. There's no turkey. It's not a fucking holiday.

I think that might be it.

She'd have been a good woman if it'd been someone there to shoot her every minute of her life.