Wednesday 18 August 2010


They’ve just released the first aphrodisiac coffee here in the UK. They really will not stop before they try to invent just about anything. It apparently has some rare Indian coffee bean in it with the essence of oyster. Gosh. That sounds just delicious. The kicker, it costs 39 pounds for a 100gram package. [Apparently all the proceeds are going to cancer research]. I’m thinking for that price, this beverage better shave five years off my face and reduce my waistline to a 26. Yes, I’m a demanding woman, but these are tough economic times, I want my money working for me.

I suppose my first question is why? Do we need a coffee that apparently makes us want to get our groove on? My aim for the morning is to have a cup of coffee to a) wake up and b) get things going. And I DON’T mean cue the porn music and get out the satin sheets (I don’t own either, it just sounded good). I have more important matters on my hands like trying to figure out how to clean the house, take a shower and get dressed in four minutes flat without the 'King' screaming the house down.

My other worry is coffee is a social drink served just about everywhere one goes. Something tells me that people do not want their coffee to be that social. In fact, most people when dating use ‘meeting for a coffee’ as a safe alternative to having to sit with someone they barely know for an entire dinner. The last thing we need is the coffee making this freak you met off the internet suddenly think he's Johnny Depp with no inhibitions. Not to mention, Starbucks is a minefield of germs and chaos as it is, let alone having some horny man stroke my leg cause his triple venti makes him want to bust out the Barry White albums. In fairness, Starbucks did not invent this wonder drink, De Longhi did. But I’m sure it’s only a question of time until they come up with something similar. I can hear the barista now,“Do you want cream whip on your Triple Cocoa Pump up the jam Viagra Frappucino?”

What about dinner parties, could you imagine the uncomfortable situations ensuing after the quiche has been served. The neighbor’s husband suddenly gives you the eye, your husband starts rubbing your neck, and all your trying to do is serve the dessert without getting chocolate on your white tablecloth. I don’t need any more complications in my life!

Now, saying all this, I’m thinking this hysterical product works about as well as…well, oysters. I’ve never eaten a plate of oysters in my life and then felt the need to jump my boyfriend. In fact, most of the time I’m thinking, god these are good but please don’t let me die from some strange bacteria living in my mollusk. In my defense I have a sensitive stomach.

Come to think of it, this morning, I think I'll have tea.
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