Coffee Grinds #7: Gingerbread-Peppermint-Eggnog Twist Flavored Grinds - YUM!

Some seasonal scrapings from the burnt bottom of our coffee pots. Enjoy!


• Please, please stop trying to give old Christmas carols "hip" and "cutting edge" arrangements. I'm not a  purist, it just sounds like crap and never works.

• I'm really tired of indie bands all trying to look like lumberjacks. DUDE. You play a mandolin and you sing about tea cups. You're NOT a lumberjack.

• Q: What' determines if a song is considered "dated" or "definitely of its time"?
  A: Whether the person you ask likes the song.

• Definition of frustration: When you go to buy a personalized keychain or mug, and they have every name under the sun, even the oddball ones, but they don't have yours. "What? They have Glenniford and Glenncort but they don't have Glenn??? What the HELL!"

• Most people believe their intelligence is "above average," which is a statistical impossibility. Also, smart elitists annoy me because I keep thinking that, metaphorically speaking, even the smartest ant on the anthill is still pretty freakin' stupid.

• Last night, my seat on the bus was broken and wouldn't recline, so I asked the bus driver to "pop-a-wheelie" the whole way home.

• Never listen to mean-spirited critics. Most of them have no vision to speak of, and since they can't see yours, they only want to tear it down.

• Dear TV and internet: Please stop asking for my "comments" or "feedback" and acting like you care what I think just because some marketing guru told you that you need to be more "interactive" in the era of social networking. You don't care what we think; I don't care what I think; and I CERTAINLY don't care what Joe Blow down the street thinks.

• Definition of irony: Michele Bachman said she wanted to return "character" to the White House. When asked twice (TWICE!) if she meant to suggest that President Obama lacks character she dodged the question while basically insisting she's a straight shooter of character who "says what she means." Okay, so if you're such a straight shooter who "says what she means" why the hell doesn't she ANSWER THE QUESTION?

• Which reminds me, candidates constantly saying that "people are sick of politics as usual" IS politics as usual.

• 2012 is almost here. Hey Def Leppard! That "Armageddon It" song ain't SO FUNNY NOW is it? IS IT?!?!?!?

Eggnog: Coming to Kick Your %#$@$*

I love eggnog, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I think I'd take big gallon jugs of egg nog and pour it all over my body, if it was socially acceptable and didn't cost so damn much. Strangely, I often find that many people do not share my unrelenting enthusiasm for this tasty, viscous beverage. The f*ckers.


Sometimes, I'll ask people why they don't like egg nog, knowing full well their feeble excuses will most likely be more inadequate than the second single from whatever band NME is hailing as "the new Beatles" this week.


After all, who could not like the nog? Are they just trying to f*ck with me? Is that somebody's idea of a joke? Well, ha-freakin-ha. I wonder what else these sickos think is funny. Maybe kicking homeless kids in the street?


Sometimes a person will actually have the sheer audacity to inform me he/she hasn't even TRIED eggnog; that he/she is turned off because of the belief it has raw eggs in it! This is, in fact, a myth. I try to inform these misguided souls there are NO eggs in most store-bought egg nog; in reality, eggnog is derived from the pureed fallopian tubes of the duck-billed platypus, the only mammal to lay eggs, and hence the snazzy moniker. Oddly enough, this tantalizing tidbit of information doesn't create a lot of converts to the eggnog cause. What the hell is wrong with these people?


Let me relay a little yuletide story to give you a better idea how deep my love for egg nog runs. Many years back, Salma Hayek propositioned me at a Christmas party wearing nothing but elf stockings and a long string of popcorn balls wrapped loosely around her torso. Needless to say, I was quite flattered. However, I politely declined the offer, for I had witnessed the Oscar-nominated beauty refuse a big, brimmin' cup of egg nog (garnished with cinnamon, no less) earlier that very same night. Perhaps "politely" isn't the correct word; I actually tossed a large glass of merlot in her suddenly-astonished face (I wasn't going to waste the egg nog), shook my fist righteously, and proclaimed at the top of my lungs:


"WAIT! WAIT! Come back!!!! I didn't know what I was doing!!! Don't leave!!! I saw Once Upon a Time in Mexico 12 times!!! In the THEATER!!! For the LOVE OF GOD, WAIT!"


Eventually, she did come back and we laughed about the whole thing over a couple of tall, frosty glasses of eggnog. Nothing else happened of course, and a few months later she ended up suing me blind for mental cruelty, but DAMN, that was the best freakin' eggnog I ever had.


After hearing this tale I'm sure you can appreciate my fondness for the magical holiday elixir even more.


And if not, then f*ck you.


Happy Holidays!