Crazy Coffee

Roll up, roll up, ladies and gentlemen, the boys and the girls, the neuter and the very highly sexed indeed.

Be it drizzled from a passing hot air balloon, or siphoned through the nostrils of a migrating behemoth, coffee is served.

Karen is a little surprised at the goings on betwixt myself and my new love, and feels the need for a coffee...I believe her usual is a latte. So stunned, poor thing. With a haddock.

Shmeder feels the need for a little bit of fizz today, so gets her Cherry Coca-cola (remember - Cherry Coca-colaTM is a registered trademark, other colas ARE available) sent via express mail...I'll just hitch it to the back of this handy passing antelope and let it wander off. It'll get there eventually. Maths SAYS so.

Mr. Dave requests an English cup of tea..not something I'll miss, I confess, as I am definitely more of a coffee man now, and in the US Twinings do a reasonable line in the drink which cheers but doth not inebriate. La, sir. One tea. Via ballista.

Ha-hah! Up pops Adrian with some excellent advice which I am already following up, a hearty Mazeltov and a request for a get-stuart-to-ny-upachino, a house speciality coffee. The mug is triangular, three and a half thousand miles long, very smooth and shiny on one side and comes equipped with a sledge and a 'Get into the US Free' card.
Here you are, Adrian.

Who's this? Why, it's lambkin. He's a cute little fella, only a few weeks old, the first of the Spring lambs, and still skittish on his feet. Plunge him into lukewarm espresso, somebody. Wild feels the need to have his coffee accompanied by the damp fluffy bleat of nature.

A salt-encrusted mug of Navy Coffee for the dashing D, who is perfectly sane but simply enjoys ploughing the width and depths of the Atlantic in super-silent submarines piloted by Scottish-sounding Russian captains, whilst being pursued by clean shaven Americans equipped with an almost psychic intelligence officer-cum-history teacher, all from the comfort of his reading chair. As do we all.
On occasion.

Last, and by around forty thousand miles, no means least, the luscious, delectable and irresistable Krissa takes a strong filter coffee with two and a half teaspoonfuls of love. Or three full spoonfuls if we're using the spoon that sits in the sugar/love pot. Enjoy, darling.

The Coffee Shop Of Your Very Dreams has a 'For Sale' sign in the window.

We're relocating.

Still, today's slogan is fitting.

The Coffee Shop Of Your Very Dreams: the shop that likes to put underpants on it's head, a pencil up each nostril and say, "Here, have a coffee."