My "friend"

Today I am going to tell you about my "friend." My friend has not had any coffee today and this has turned her into a rampaging rabid mad cow of death. That sort of sounds like the name of a menopausal girl band.
My friend totally admits that she has an addiction but has no desire to overcome it. We formed a 12 step grop for recovering caffeine addicts but everyone got as far as admitting to having a problem, then realized that if we got over it, we'd be the posers that sit and drink tea in coffee shops. Now we are just a group of caffeine abuse enablers whose motto is "United we stand jumping up and down in place while saying the alphabet backwards ten times fast."

Speaking of the behaviors that can result..my friend has been barred from places like the library, museums, Easter Mass, punk rock concerts, and Hell's Angels Rallies. They all spouted some crud about her "talking to loud", whatever that's supposed to mean. At least she has a good shot at becoming the lead singer for the Rampaging Rabid Mad Cows of Death. I hear they are auditioning.
She really does feel feel bad for people that cross her path of a decaf day. In this part of New Mexico, most folks just think she's a disoriented skin walker that wandered too far from Shiprock. Speaking of geographical locales, I think I know why the suicide rate in Seattle is so much higher than the rest of the country. Everyone blames it on their stinky weather but if you think about it, Seattle is like, the birthplace of overpriced coffee addiction fixes, which means that a higher percentage of the population is addicted, which means that on any given day, some poor soul hasn't had their normal coffee for some reason or another and what is interpreted as suicide (like jumping off of a bridge) was really a moping decaf zombie who just wasn't firing on all eight cylinders that day (causing them to mopishly fall off the bridge).

At any rate, the one person that made her laugh in the middle of her brain melting down and convulsing was a little girl dressed in sparkles and swishy pink material at Sam's Club. This child was running up to complete strangers and yelling " Did you know my birthday is in two days?!?!"

In the midst of her zombie state, my friend decided to adopt this approach as a means to find the happiness denied to her this day. Oddly enough, people shrank away at the sight of a 25 year old woman rushing around the frozen aisles as she proclaimed her birthday. (For an addict, rushing while moping equals a speed somewhat akin to a muppet bouncing across the TV screen).

Some call coffee a stimulant, some call it a depressant, some call it a diuretic, and others call it a carcinogenic substance...I just know it is the medication that regulates my bipolarness that results when I don't drink any. I'm like those hippies out in San Francisco that claim they need prescriptions for marijuana to treat the recurring pain from the back injury they received in '72 when they fell off a ladder because they were stoned from doing marijuana. At least mine is legal in all 50 states. I better get going for now...auditions start soon and my friend left her glitter tiara in the freezer section.