"Like A G6"

"Poppin bottles in the ice, like a blizzard

When we drink we do it right gettin slizzard

Sippin sizzurp in my ride, like Three 6

Now I'm feelin so fly like a G6"...

Okay, it's not everybody's favorite type of music. I like rap. I think it's interesting and even fun in a lot of cases.

My son, John, a law firm partner and conservative, was coming home from work after a day in court. My daughter, Sheila, telephoned him on his cell phone. During their brief conversation, John told Sheila to hold on. He said he needed to take a bit of his cough syrup.

Sheila asked him "So you're all up in your ride getting slizzard?" John was totally in the dark as to what she was referring to. What she was talking about is John "sippin' sizzurp", which, of course, is slang for sipping syrup, that is, cough syrup.

I'm not implying that I think anyone should sip cough syrup to get "slizzard", but I do love the sound of the words.

And "feelin so fly like a G6" isn't bad either considering that a G6 is an airplane, a Gulfstream still in production, but faster than a G4.

See what happens when you drink too much espresso coffee out of your new coffee maker? I really can understand the words to this song.

Frankly Frazzled

Addictions are bad.

Let's face it, no matter what you are addicted to, it's not a good thing. Being addicted to "posh" coffee is already taking its toll on me and mine.

Alex gets up at 4:30 AM to leave for work these days. Don't ask. He drives for about 3 hours to get there. (Not really, but it's a long way.) Also, Alex deals with things that are not always on west coast time.

Like any sensible wife, I do not get up to see him off in the morning. That's just too early to even think about getting up. Plus, I do like to sleep till 9 because that's a civilized time to rise.

This morning was a little different. I could smell coffee. As if I was sleepwalking, I made my way downstairs and to the kitchen. The coffee maker was hissing and spurting out fresh coffee. Alex was in the shower, so I went ahead and drank his coffee. It was wonderful.

I set the coffee machine to make another cup of coffee for Alex, but then I drank that one too. When Alex appeared in the kitchen, freshly turned out to grab his cup of coffee and head out the door, I had the good grace to apologize. "Just a minute, Honey, and I'll make you some more." I said sweetly.

My adoring husband said, "Jesus, I have to go." Oh come on, it only takes a couple of minutes to make some more. Well, Alex is a master of precise timing and so he had to leave without his coffee. I felt really bad. (Oh, not really! Get over it Dude!)

I looked at the clock and saw it was 5:05 AM and wondered at my sanity. I knew it would be sensible to go back to bed, but said to myself, "Self, how about one more cup?".

It was an offer I couldn't refuse. Now truthfully, after three espresso cappuccinos nobody is going back to sleep. I can always nap later, I thought.

Wrong. I cannot nap. I have been waiting for an important package (one that will require a signature) and if I fall asleep, I won't hear the Fed Ex guy when he comes.

So the package came at 4 PM, and I'm thinking of going to have another coffee just so I can make it through the evening.

Maybe I'll just pour a spot of gin in it.

Experimentation and Moral Downfall

We have had a Krups coffee maker for about 10 years.

Unfortunately, it has gone semi-kaput or kerplunck. (Sorry, if that's not a word, it should be.) We can still use it, but there is something askew about the basket for the coffee.

At first, my husband thought he could "fix" the coffee maker, but I was afraid he would either poison us with crazy glue or electrocute himself.

After some discussion, Alex and I decided we could "spring" for a new coffee maker. I looked at the Macy's ad and found a nice Krups coffee maker and pointed it out. "Uh huh," Alex said, not taking his eyes off the football game he was watching.

At half time, because we had run out of beer, Alex ran to Nob Hill Market to pick some up. When he got back home, he said proudly that he had purchased us a new coffee maker. He proceeded to tell me this was a very "posh" coffee maker. When I inquired how he knew that, he said the guy at the store said so. Well, then of course!

When I opened the package and found the coffee maker, I really couldn't figure it out at all. "Where is the coffee pot part?" I asked. "Huh?" Alex responded opening a Heineken and watching the television screen.

I continued examining the new coffee maker and truthfully could not make heads nor tails out of it. There was no place to put a filter full of coffee, nor was there a pot for the coffee to brew into. When Alex tells me something is "posh" I know that is his word for "frigging expensive".

Yes, it came with directions, but directions are not my strong suit. I'm not technically inclined and I'm very bad about following directions.

It turns out that this coffee maker is very special. You have to insert little plastic containers of first creamer and then espresso coffee into a little slot for one 8 ounce cup at a time. Once figured out, it's not hard but we no longer have the option of making a "pot" of coffee.

Perhaps the worst part of all of this is that this steamed cream and espresso coffee is the best coffee I have ever tasted outside of Paris. Drinking four 8 ounce cups of this brew is being moderate for me now. (I generally drink one cup of coffee in the morning.) Worse still, there are 60 calories in each serving of this sinfully wonderful coffee.

I feel like somebody who has just taken their first shot of heroin or crack. I know I shouldn't go back for more, but I can't help myself.

These little coffee pellets are quite expensive too. So now I have to think of a future where I am out on the corner, swinging my pearls, while soliciting johns for sex so I can support my "posh" coffee habit.

Another issue is that I will have to troll for johns who have a preference for wide-bodied women because after the extra 250 calories in my morning intake of coffee everyday, there will be more of me for sure.