You might think, from all my blathering on about coffee that I am somewhat the coffee snob. I'm not, actually, I'll drink Eight O'Clock coffee, I'll drink Starbucks. My only requirement is that my coffee be strong -- which is why I won't drink Nescafe or any other freeze-dried coffee or any of those foo-foo flavored coffee concoctions. Black, strong, and preferably, chewable.
And how do you know I'm not a coffee snob? 'Cause I'll reheat a cup of old coffee from the carafe ... yes, even 24 hours old. No true coffee snob would ever do that.
But damn. Why does some coffee, when you reheat it, end up tasting like pencil shavings steeped in flat water? Eeeeeuch.
In other news, the Phooka thinks we should live someplace that has a fireplace.
Until then, he'll make do...
Just think how much fun he's gonna have in the heat and the sun in Ho Chi Minh City! Lizards, bugs as big as him, and loads of sunny windowsills...
Johnny Trash brought home a medical bag from his old job. Pretty much everything in it was past its "use by" date, but we did get a stethoscope! Of course, the first thing we did with it was listen to the Phooka's heartbeat, which for some reason, we found hilarious.
Don't even ask how tempted I was to put the blood pressure cuff around Nepher.