Spartacus Dream

After drinking too much of a new experimental blend of Rwanda/SWP Decaf  through my espresso machine while watching Spartacus "God of the Arena" and promptly falling asleep  I had a vivid dream in which I was a fierce Germanic Barbarian who had been captured by the Romans and made to fight as a Gladiator.


These were my weapons: The Patio Umbrella of Annoyance and a pair of Galoshes. I was forced to practice with these weapons of choice from sun up to sun down, pausing for a little gratuitous sex break with the other slaves at high noon. The Doctore would  then crack his whip and we would go back to fighting in our g-strings while the beautiful wealthy patrons watched us with wanton and flush expressions on their face. Dubbed the "Mad German" I practiced hard and soon learned how to use the umbrella as a shield and the tied together galoshes as a sort of nunchuck type of weapon which worked pretty well after filling them with rocks.

It was the night of the big fight, all the Roman Big Wigs were in the Arena and I was to fight Heavy Fucking Metal, a much feared creature from space that the Romans had captured during their intergalactic excursions through space and time via a portal that they discovered at an ancient Greek Oracle site. HFM's weapon of choice was "The Bass of Doom" which looked like it could cleave my head in two.

Thankfully, the intergalactic monster machine was chained to the wall to prevent him from using his retro rockets and escaping. He was forced to play his bass in attempt to use its sonic discharges to knock me over. I open my umbrella to protect and annoy and then let my galosh-nunchucks fly, scoring a direct hit around the beast's instrument.

Heavy Metal howled out an Alien Howl and struggled to shake away the troublesome boots as I advanced with my Patio Umbrella of Annoyance to the chants of the overwork crowd. A quick cut to a Roman Peasant flashing her boobs, a shot of tequila swallowed, and then back to the action, as I, the Mad German, advanced ever closer to my destiny with the metal fused beast.

Suddenly, the beasts hands were free and he pounded out a chord that shook the stadium and collapsed my umbrella inward.

Suddenly I was airborne, the sonic wave lifting me like a Tsunami and carrying me out of the Arena. I was free. I crash landed on a mysterious Mediterranean Island where I was then captured by Amazons and forced to serve as the Queen's footstool.

It was then I realized it had all been dream.

The realization snapped me out of it and a I woke in a cold sweat vowing never to drink even a half-caf espresso so late in the evening again.  Heck, I am not even German.

Decaf and Behmor

While, I am trying to jump on the wagon, the Behmor Roasting Wagon that is. You see, I had taken a little break from it, probably because I was over caffeinated a bit and started tweaking out in odd places. This forced me to cut down on my coffee intake, which then caused me to let my Behmor 1600 collect a little dust.

I still drank it mind you, but only in the morning and perhaps once in the while in the afternoon, but, for me, this is like going cold turkey. This is probably the reason behind all these damn movie reviews littering my site.

Anyways, I feel better now, a bit less jittery and I have also gotten sick of the crap I had been buying in the store. So, I went back to Sweet Marias and loaded up on a few elbows of an Espinola from El Salvador, as well as some organic offerings from Rwanda. Also, just to play it safe, I also got me a pound of SWP Decaf, which I heard is like the O'Douls of Decaf. So they still make O'douls? I remember drinking that with my old man who was a teetotaler.

So far, the Espinola has been standing out. The Rwanda failed to get my attention, bu that may because I roasted it on the P1 setting instead of the P3, like I wanted. The P1 sometimes lets the bean burn too hot too soon and giving them less character. The decaf, well the decaf tastes a bit like dirt, delicious dirt. It doesn't pack the punch I crave, but it also helps me get to bed at night.