That’s what I do: I make coffee and occasionally succumb to suicidal nihilism. But you shouldn’t worry — poetry is still first. Cigarettes and alcohol follow

There’s nothing I like more than rewards. Well, other than awards. I also love coffee a lot too. Being rewarded with a coffee award would be the ultimate euphoria for me.

I would be out of town, but every time I move, my home keeps relocating to where I’m at. My coffee is caffeinated, and my friends are either decaffeinated or nonexistent.

12 million Gertrudes agree—their name isn’t Gertrude. I know, because I asked them out to coffee, and only one responded. She said yes to coffee—and no to me.

I opened my eyes to see the rat taking a piss in my coffee mug. It was a huge brown bastard; had a body like a turd with legs and beady black eyes full of secret rat knowledge.

Who shall I shoot? You choose. Now, listen very carefully: where's your coffee? You've got coffee, haven't you? C'mon, everyone's got coffee! Spill the beans!

If there are #coffee stains on my @Harvard application, it’s because I was up all night Photoshopping a high school diploma. Please accept my apology, and please accept me.

I don't know where my ideas come from. I will admit, however, that one key ingredient is caffeine. I get a couple cups of coffee into me and weird things just start to happen.

I tried to raise my eyebrows in disbelief, but I forgot I’d packed away my eyebrows along with all my other winter clothing. My iced coffee was watery and warm with neglect.

My coffee gets increasingly better the more I drink and the closer I come to the bottom of the cup, where all the sugar is. I wonder if life is the same way as we approach the end.

We walked along the beach like two coffee lovers. But we weren’t. He was a fish, and I was astonished—not that a fish was walking, but that he didn’t love coffee.

When there are 16 ounces of coffee to be shared by two strangers, and only one 8-ounce cup between them, then one man must give up his coffee, and the other must formulate an alibi.

It is inhumane, in my opinion, to force people who have a genuine medical need for coffee to wait in line behind people who apparently view it as some kind of recreational activity.

We fought, we drank coffee, and then we made up. Then I made up the part about us having made out, because I was trying to impress my ex girlfriend and grandma (two people, not one).

You can’t put water back in a cloud after a rain like you can with a sponge. Coffee flows out of my penis, and though it’s less caffeinated, it’s just as drinkable.