Please Do Not Talk To Me Until I’ve Had My Cup Of Coffee By A Cup Of Coffee

I know what you’re thinking.  I’m just a lowly cup of joe, lacking conscious emotion and awareness.  But this is not the case. You see, I do feel. I feel a lot. I feel pain, and grief and sorrow just like everybody else.  And just because I am composed of over 7 different acidic compounds, dimethyl disulfide and trigonelline, it’s not any easier for me to get out of bed than it is for you. So the least you could do is show some respect and quit your bitching until I’ve had a warm cup of coffee.

I don’t get why everyone assumes I am a morning person.  Is it because of my bright porcelain frame? Or maybe it’s my comforting aroma?  Get this idea in your head, before 9am, I don’t want to hear your fucking voice. I spend every goddamn morning trying to cheer you up and get you to your fucking class, but who’s here to make the start of my day more pleasant?

Everyone always complains to me.  “You’re too hot, you’re not sweet enough.”  Well how about you give me my fucking vanilla latte, and I can bitch about that!  

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