puddin's blog

i hate coffee. everything about it. the aroma, the taste, the (dare i call it a) culture. all of it. right down to it's clever little caffeinated molecular composition. (*ahem* c8h10n4o2 binds our reality) and all the other alkaloidal acquaintances it's akin to: cocaine, morphine, quinine, nicotine.....nice friends, asshole. that being said, i also can't live without it. i breathe coffee. hell....at times i eat it. but only a good indonesian. new giunea, preferably. though not the peaberry starbuck's occasionally carries. (to be honest, i have my doubts it's really a new guinea at all.

i hate coffee. everything about it. the aroma, the taste, the (dare i call it a) culture. all of it. right down to it's clever little caffeinated molecular composition. (*ahem* c8h10n4o2 binds our reality) and all the other alkaloidal acquaintances it's akin to: cocaine, morphine, quinine, nicotine.....nice friends, asshole. that being said, i also can't live without it. i breathe coffee. hell....at times i eat it. but only a good indonesian. new giunea, preferably. though not the peaberry starbuck's occasionally carries. (to be honest, i have my doubts it's really a new guinea at all.

there was a very distinct preconceived expectancy surrounding the event that was to take place this past friday night. being prepared to step into a venerable set-to of magnificent proportions....into a demonstration of warrior skill for which making the trek into the depths of central florida's mall infested swampland was worthwhile, i was more than slightly disappointed to find myself walking into, instead, a horrific reminder that my long time favorite gaming genre is in a sad and sorry state. it was several years ago that i last entered an iron fist tournament.