I Know The Meaning Of Life! (Thanks Ask.com!)

People look for meaning in a lot of things: the Bible, trusted friends, counselors, philosophies of ancients like Plato, etc. But why stop there? Why not look for meaning in one of the most powerful entities known to mankind-- THE INTERNET! It's so obvious! The answers to all our questions are right at our disposal, and that's just what we're doing... disposing. It's quite sad really. All you have to do is go onto Ask.com and ask, "What is the meaning of life?"

It will answer (quite climactically, I might add) with:

"The meaning of life is a philosophical question concerning the purpose and significance of human existence."

Crap... Well that just sucks.

But I was not giving up! I knew the answer was out there. I just knew it. Next I just decided to go to TheMeaningOfLife.com... Let me just tell you right now, I was über excited when the website started loading. I was thinking, "Eureka! By George, I think I've got it!" along with some other 'profound discovery sayings' of the like when on the screen appeared an ad with a link to a website... selling LIFE the boardgame. I was just about over the disappointment, but being an optimist made me keep a'searchin' through the interweb for the answer to the question we are all (ironically enough) dying to know. 

You see, they have these pretty rad little ask and answer things online where you can view questions people ask a lot and the answers that people give. I looked at the highest ranked answers of course-- I go for quality, guys-- because they're the most trustworthy. I mean who knows? Some of the deepest minds of the world could be collaborating online to find these answers. And there they were. My excitement was seething within... 

Until I read them:

"Your main purpose is to survive by any means and to reproduce."

Umm... Ew. Okay, so that wasn't Einstein's response. Pretty bleak, too. But wait, there were more!

"We are here to have lots and lots of fun, sex, good food and take care of each other!"

Still twisted, but at least this person's friendly and concerned for others.

...And then it came, a beacon of hope upon my darkened horizon, a bastion of comfort encompassing my seemingly unbearable angst & despondency:

"42. It's categorically inverted by the integers of the divine fraction, thus making it a necessary key to the sub-complex division of life's true cause. This was proved by philosopher Charles Leland in the 19th Century."

Well, now it all just makes sense! My faith in humanity is so vast right now. I think I can sleep at night now.... Thanks, The Internet, and goodnight! 

You Know You're An Addict When...

So, ever since I can remember I have been a coffee lover. Over the years my passion for the deliciously satisfying beverage has grown an obscene amount. Being exposed to some of the strongest versions of coffee early on has matured my taste quite significantly. I prefer darker roasts, and I can drink my coffee hardcore, meaning without cream and sugar. I hope one day to be a connoisseur of sorts. I've always liked to drink it for pleasure...

But what happens when it becomes more than a disposable pleasure that you have every now and then? What happens when you become... ADDICTED? dun dun dun. Up until recently I thought my so-called interest in coffee was entirely innocent. Before, I knew it was a guilty pleasure and that I should probably cut back on my daily Cup'oJoe intake. Now I realize that I'm completely hooked. So hooked that I must have "the goods" every day. My eyes are opened to the caffeine-filled, crazed monster I've become-- just a'guzzling coffee like it's water (unfortunately, though it's made of water, it doesn't count as such. poo on that!). 

Caribou Coffee has only made this serious issue worse. The scrumptious flavor, perfect viscosity, potent energy-boost, and sheer joy found within every cup just cannot be turned away, avoided, or refused! Deliciousness up the wazoo, I say! Apparently, if deliciousness has reached the level of "wazoo," it's just about maxed-out in its awesomeness potential. 

Anyway, it only makes sense that I've begun making a Caribouan purchase anywhere between 1 and 4 times a week. I knew I had issues when I learned the name of the coffee guy (Sidenote: It's Ben) and virtually every item on the menu. I can easily give recommendations because I've sampled various beverages. 

It's not just me that knows about the coffee place and its contents, but the people who work there also recognize me when I come in. I see the glimpse of joy twinkle in their eyes when they see me come in. It's as if they are saying to me, "Ah, yes. Our favorite customer who single-handedly keeps us in business and oft will leave us a tip in the mug that says 'Thanks A Latte." Until last week I thought that that was the only thing they thought when they spotted me, but apparently I have a USUAL now. Yep. A usual. I've never had one before, and I've gotta say, it's quite fabuloso. No need to waste your time saying lengthy names of coffee drinks when your mouth is already so dry due to a lack of liquid sustenance. Just walk in, watch them immediately made your drink-of-TACIT-choice, pay the cashier, and waltz on out of there. The convenience is grand- truly 'tis so. 

At the same time, I realize the fact of the matter is that I'm spending away my life savings on the most delicious and least harmful legal drug (I've seen on several news reports that it can prevent Alzheimer's... here's hoping!). I'm a junkie. I'm ashamed. I've admitted my issues. I'm NOT seeking help though. Until I'm broke, have yellow teeth, and am short (oops. too late) I will not give it up. I can whenever I want for the record (basically every addicts claim, but I'm being serious). But yeah. Come with me to Caribou sometime. It will be a euphoric "trip" if you will. Get it... cuz I said coffee was a drug? Mmmmwow. Okay, so this is the part where I get embarrassed and stop typing. ¡El fin!