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Shit coffee, claustrophobia & pigspotter

12 Oct

Thought of the day

Coffee. Without at least one cup of Joe in the morning I am utterly useless. A write-off. A lost case. A menace to myself and my clients. Without it I lose my mind, patience, sense of humor, brain, keys, and everything other tool that is vital to make it through the day.

Oh, and by coffee I mean the black, fragrant liquid made from beans  and hot water, not the dreadful potion derived from chicory or some other bitter leafy vegetable. Vegetables, because that is what chicory is – rabbit food,  are meant to be eaten, and not to burn, dehydrate, grind, and turn into some beverage. Let’s be clear about that. Which ever moron one day woke up and decided that chicory is an adequate substitute for coffee  should be shot between the eyes, hung form the highest tree and fed to the sharks. A beverage derived from chicory is not (read: has NEVER been!)  anything like coffee, apart from its colour, liquid form and the fact it is served in a cup.  Chicory does not have the same lovely fragrance, it does not have the same taste, it does not have the same effect on one’s spirit, and does not contribute to my well-being. On the contrary. It turns me into a grumpy, sleepy, slow, chaotic, annoyed bitch from hell. Because that, my dear readers, is exactly what I am today. Why?  A client, apart from skimping on my already how-low-can-you-go fees, has decided to go low-budget and has ditched the bean for the veg. I almost threw up iin my mouth when I was handed over a cup of what I thought was steaming hot coffee. Now I am contemplating to bring my own flask of coffee at our next meeting. To make it through the day and to make client dearest realise that chi-co-ry is (e)vil(e). One wiff of my dark, strong, fragrant loveliness will be sufficient.

Tweets of the day

@BBCTimWillcox Huge expectation that the rescue will start before midnight. Local reports say it’s going to be 2000 local time: Yeah, I know. It is a topic I have written about before. People, look, I just can’t help myself. Being an innocent and involuntary victim of claustrophobia my heart shrieks just thinking of being entrapped underground, like these 33 Chilean mine workers have been for the past 2 months. yes, two months underground. No sunlight. No fresh air. Darkness. A collapsed shaft (what else can collapse, is my first first). Confined space. 33 people. Nowhere to go. No coffee. No soft beds. No nothing. Just you, the dirt and the worms. To me that sounds like absolute hell. So yes, I am quite chuffed that these men will be out soon. Good work, Murray & Roberts for helping out!

@IOL iol.co.za: Pigspotter’s case referred back to cops http://bit.ly/acTJxL
Pigspotter. Nah, this guy does not hunt boars for a living and neither has he a fetish for pink and perky little piglets. Nope. Pigspotter is a South African man who, via Twitter, warns traffic users for speed cameras and road blocks. The cops (“pigs”) are not particularly amused, and have vowed to take him down and to court. Reason: Pigspotter might by accident help hijackers get away by informing them about the loation of road blocks. Well, that is their excuse. Yeah – sure – what ever.

 

Photo of the day

This is my freshly squeezed business card! It went off to the printers today and can’t wait to have the first batch in my possession!

Business card Miriam Mannak
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Posted by on October 12, 2010 in Uncategorized

 

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