barefoot and coffeeless

There I was, barefoot, coffeeless and naked as a jay bird. I donned my terry cloth robe. Outside, the weather was durie; bad storms put my grinder settings on the fritz and me in a dismas mood. I turned on the ellie but all the programs were trish.

Tucking in my peter, a paul came over me and I felt so grumpy. Not only that, but my klaus of a roommate had nicked my chosen tamper and it wasn't likely that I'd get it bakke. He kent give a skeie about returning stuff and it drives me tacy.

The tamper had cost a fortune but I really doug the tony heather-colored handle (somewhere between amber and bronwen). It felt taylor made to phil my hand. My search to diserna difference in the shots with the new tamper was riddled with doubt. But to denye myself the purchase would have been like a staub in the heart even though I couldn't really aford it.

I was rather...duh...furious at that hasbeen roommate for using the last of my coffee, too. Mark my words, he's jenuinely no prince. The anger made me a little less intelligent and a lot more daryn; I didn't care a gay minute what he might do. I found his secret coffee stash, but I didn't have the kees. So I had to jimmy open the lock and phoung open the door.

Although stealing goes counter to my culture, I was hungry as a bassett hound and stubborn as a billy goat. Without caffeine, my willpower was scace and I became a sl28ave to habit. "I ain't owen that roommate nothin', just gimme some joe," screamed the thoughts eccoing in my head. Marshalling my energies, I brewed a cup justin time, hoping it would be the ultimo.

But ono! the machine didn't have enough watts. The brew looked murky and tasted rather kyle. I let it flow down the duane into the black well. Mike my words, some day I'll get it white.