Wake Up Ya Bastards

Walk into any Supermarket or Service Station these days (well, you don’t have to walk, you can run, hop, or crawl on all fours squealing like a pig – but walking has always worked for me) and you will no doubt have noticed the large quantity of high-caffeine beverages on offer to the average modern day consumer. Red Bull, V, Shark, Relentless, Jolt. A cavalcade of high octane potions whose sole purpose is to give us a little energy boost our own apathetic personalities can’t provide.

Let’s be honest, we all need a pick-me-up every now and then and this stuff is the perfect antidote. But be warned people, high caffeine soft drinks are not to be toyed with. If you’re younger than 12, or older than 62 you shouldn’t be drinking it. People who have high blood pressure should stay away. And if you’re pregnant, forget about it. Digest just one can of Red Bull and your unborn child will burst out of your sternum and start performing skate board tricks in front of everyone. (Medical fact).

For the rest of us, it’s perfectly safe. (Provided you do not drink more than five cans a day, in which case you face the risk of heart failure).

But it’s not only the soft drink world that has carved out in a niche in the “wake-up-mutha-fuckas” market. Franchise Coffee Houses are spreading across the planet like an epidemic. Currently there are ten new Starbucks opening up every second in London alone, and if that figure seems a little high, it’s because I just made it up. (God I’m a slack prick, why can’t I be arsed googling my statistics?).

I’m certainly not complaining about this Caffeine Revolution, if it wasn’t for coffee and Red Bull I’d spend most of my life in a dribbling coma. If I ever win an award (for, I don’t know, Best Supporting Scowl) and have to make an acceptance speech, caffeine will be the first entity I thank. The second thank you would be to all of the drunk Heterosexual girls who kiss each other at night clubs and parties. People like that make the world go round and simply don’t get the recognition they deserve.

Um, what was I talking about?

Oh yeah, caffeine.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that I'm a chronic insomniac, but I have never been a morning person. I’ve never been one of those guys who gets up three hours before he has to be at work, goes for a jog, comes home and has orange juice and bacon and eggs and watches morning television shows while poring over the Newspaper and maybe tunes into some "witty" Breakfast radio, before heading off to be the first person to get to work by at least 30 minutes.

We all know somebody like that. And if you read the previous paragraph and thought "Hey, that’s me!", then turn off the computer, leave your house and go lie in the middle of the road. Wait there until a car runs over your face, because you’re a prick.

Fuck mornings. Mornings are for old fuckers and kids with ADT.

I’m more of a hit Snooze a dozen times, then leave it to the last possible second before you race through the shower then run off to work. I hate mornings, but there is one bastion that at least makes them bearable: Coffee.

My main source of Caffeine is Cafe Nero, a kind of Poor man’s Starbucks located near my train station. I usually go for a Cappuccino or a Latte. I’d love to say I’m more of a Black Coffee kind of guy, but it just doesn’t have the same sugar high you get from my first two choices.

I go for the largest size they have to optimise the sugar and coffee bean intake. Herein lies the problem, as the large size at Nero’s is the “Grande”. Just like Starbucks, all of their cup sizes are in Italian (or French or whatever) so that the corporate Cocksuckers who drink there can feel all cultured and shit.

But it’s just not possible to order a “Grande Latte” without sounding like a white collar twat. Even if a seven foot Samurai walked into the store dragging a Tiger he had killed with his bare hands, and fucked Miss Universe on the counter in front of everybody; you’d still assume he was a mincing queer if he ordered a “Grande Latte”.

I side-step this problem by pointing at the largest cup and grunting, which is my main form of communication before the coffee kicks in anyway.

Halfway through the cup, the caffeine kicks in and I can feel the doughy mush of brain cells spark into gear.

I write as many pleasant business type emails as I can when the coffee buzz kicks in. Later in the day when it wears off and the morbid banality of the working day kicks in I usually reply to my Co-workers emails with pictures of Burn victims and Car crashes. But the morning is a blast.

Conclusion: Coffee is fantastic kids.



As a side note; I think Kath Een is a great name for a Porn Star. Also: Angela Fever. Coz it sounds like Glandular Fever, and you can't have porn without communicable diseases.