That’s not where the coffee goes, sir.

Overheard older business-y man in Starbucks: “It’s always personal on the back end.”

Jesus. I would HOPE so.

“Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out…”

I had far too many feelings yesterday resulting from being social, so of course now that I have a free day to myself, as soon as I woke up they all came rushing back, and it was like a team of squirrels took over my brain and started playing emotional volleyball — “Sad about this!” *pass* “Insecure about that!” *pass* “Oh, hey, what about having kids, wanna rehash that one?” *pass*

Right. So I’ll be here all day with a slow drip of coffee martinis, watching comfort movies. I dare you to be sad when Justin Timberlake is serenading Mila Kunis with Kris Kross’s “Jump.” (Plus…dat ass.)

Or, hell, this seems like a pretty solid state of mind to finally go see
Inside Out and just embrace it all. (Obviously with a venti spiked Starbucks and a big fuck-off tray of theater nachos. That’s just being prepared; I learned that shit in Girl Scouts.)

I think I’ve found my Starbucks Soulmate.

In the news today: NJ Cop Accused of Lewd Act at Starbucks.

Two things:

1. Sometimes coffee is so good, I have to jerk off, too.

2. This is clearly the barista’s fault. He said “extra foam,” they didn’t make it right, dude had to make his own. Protect and SERVE, people. Protect and serve.