Tuesday 9 July 2013

You had me at coffee

I discovered a while ago what gets me out of bed in the morning. Coffee. Just coffee.

I'm not talking about what motivates me to face the world, achieve things, build my career, and learn The Pussy Willow song on the piano. Rather, coffee is the immediate motivating factor that actually prompts my body to peel itself off the mattress, trounce downstairs and get my metabolism going.

The second I awake, the very moment I come out of REM sleep, even before I have to accept that the hot lady in my dream will not be marrying me, the first neuron to fire is a caffeine neuron.

If not for coffee, I can't see why any of us get out of bed.

Actually, it's caffeine. Coffee is just a nice delivery vehicle. Like Charlize Theron's body. It's a beautiful delivery vehicle for her mind, which is really why I coat my bathroom walls with her posters.

I'd be perfectly fine drinking Red Bull in the morning but it just doesn't fit into the white, middle class, 50 year old male thing to do. Red Bull is actually better than coffee in that it has 250% of the daily recommended B12. Once I drank two Red Bulls and half an hour later took a nap. When my body wants to nap, it naps. Even with enough B12 to power all the football, basketball and hockey teams in the world for several lifetimes, my body decides when it's had enough and nothin' gonna change dat.

My need for coffee reminds me of that Snickers commercial, the one where Joe Pesci bites into a Snickers and turns back into the real person. I'm not me without my coffee. I'm Mandy Manson, Charles Manson's little known, slightly less violent brother.

I can feel the life, the drive, the hutzpah flow into me as I drink my first coffee. It's too bad most of this drive ends up in the toilet bowl by the end of the morning. Otherwise I know I would achieve great things. Well, I'm kinda sure, anyway.

I remember once my sister poured this brownish liquid into my coffee cup. I drank it and then asked, "When are we having coffee?" I like it strong. She likes me to be quiet.

I don't understand the fuss about the health effects of caffeine. Scientists say the universe is made of energy, and coffee gives me energy, so its gotta be good. In fact, I think the C in E=MC2, the famous equation by Einstein, stands for coffee. The universe is really an extremely large cup of coffee, way larger than the trenta size (31 oz.) at Starbucks. It all started from a coffee bean so tiny and concentrated with caffeine that if you lived then, you would be up all night. It exploded and developed into individual coffee galaxies, similar to those Tassimo packets. Human civilization is the coffee stain around the edge of the cup. 

Speaking of creation, is coffee mentioned in the Bible? It should be. I wonder how many coffees Moses had before parting the red sea? You can't tell me he did that without some kind of stimulant. 

What about in the garden of Eden. Why an apple? Wouldn't a delicious hot cup of coffee be much more stimulating? Then we'd hear, "Hey Eve, drink this nice, sweet, creamy coffee latte" instead of "have I got a nice, sour granny smith for you." Presto, they gain the knowledge that there's a Starbucks down the path. That's the only reason I can think of for them to leave Paradise.

We can assume, then, that God had an awfully large amount of coffee before creating the universe. Judging from the results, I have a few questions. Where, exactly, did He get His coffee? Did He go to Coffee Time? The place I go to for my deck stain? That's why we have the phrase, "Too much coffee, God?"

One sure sign that God had too much lousy coffee is that the universe is full of entropy. The law of entropy states that overall, the amount of disorganization in the universe is always increasing. Wait a minute, what? He creates a universe that's impossible for us to clean up? Hasn't He made things difficult enough as it is? Try doing your own taxes in a universe like that. It means cleaning my garage is a complete waste of time. Yet He created my wife, who insists that the garage be ready for catalogue pictures.

Maybe He should have spent more than 6 days creating everything. It takes me 9 days to assemble a simple IKEA desk. Maybe He used one of those cheap, annoying allen keys to tighten everything, kept dropping it and then said, "Good enough, I'm sure it's suppose to rock back and forth anyway."

I checked on Amazon. There are some 12,000 books about getting organized. He could have read one on the 7th day. He could have enjoyed a nice, smooth coffee while He read.

Maybe, just maybe, He napped during Creation. And so far there hasn't been a nice enough coffee to get Him to peel himself off the mattress, trounce downstairs and fix the universe.