a brief confession...

Ok, so I have consumed coffee in the past, though never regularly, and I will likely continue to occasionally consume it in the future. And this blog isn't just about why I don't drink coffee- it is more an excuse for me to ramble, give unwarranted advice, and talk about my running and adventures- but damnit, I'll take a cup of tea over coffee any day.

Thursday, February 24, 2011


Ok, so I really don't have the time to be writing this post right now, but the Wright brothers wouldn't have let something like time get in the way of building their first plane, so I won't let it get in the way of my posting or my trip to RiteAid later.  See what I did there?

I apologize for the lapse in posts there, I have been overwhelmingly busy with school, grant writing, planning for BorderVenture, etc (check out BorderVenture.blogspot.com !).  And I'm likely to continue to be really busy for a good while, so I apologize in advance for near-future lapses in posting.  I just wanted to let you know that my lack of posts was due to business and NOT a lack of reasons why I don't drink coffee.  I thought some might be concerned I was running out of ideas after receiving an email from a friend with a reason why someone might not drink coffee.  I'm sure she didn't think I'd run dry, but it brought my attention to that potential concern.  Anyway, on with it already!

To you white people out there (myself being one of them): have you ever had a day, or a time, or an experience when you maybe regretted being "white"?  Or maybe you just wished you were a little less white? When I say white, I'm referring to the whiteness that makes a blog like StuffWhitePeopleLike.com so damn entertaining.  Tragically white, if I may.  For example, perhaps when playing a spirited game of basketball?  (or maybe when playing any sport at all?) Or perhaps when someone brings up Arizona politics?  Or maybe, more likely as a male, when you try to dance with chicks at a club?  Or in my case, perhaps when you decide to run and hike 400 miles of the Arizona-Mexico border?  Or anytime when you've been in a foreign country that wasn't predominantly white? And to everyone else: I'm sure there are many times that you've been embarrassed for a tragically white person, and though you certainly wouldn't want to hang out with that awkward white ass of a person, you maybe wished they'd be a little less "white".  We've all been there, don't deny it.

Well, when thinking about all those times when you had wished you were less "white", or you wish the guy or girl next to you was less "white,"  I'd like you to go to www.StuffWhitePeopleLike.com, and scroll down to the very bottom of that post.  There you will see that the VERY FIRST POST about what white people like is........

You got it, COFFEE.  Don't be so tragically white all the time, and put down that damned cup of coffee.


Wednesday, February 9, 2011

I feel awful.

Absolutely awful.  I woke up this morning (it was still dark out) feeling like I'd swallowed a poisonous, spiky bowling ball.  I went to the bathroom to try to address the issue with no luck.  I went back to my room to check what time it was, thinking "it's probably almost time to get up anyway," only to see that it was 1 am.  Damnit.  Trying to lay back down seemed to elevate my internal agony-level, so I migrated back to my futon with the plan of sleeping in a sitting-up position with the futon in couch-formation.  This seemed to alleviate some of the pain, but all that moving around seemed to get the bowling ball excited, and it started doing gleeful somersaults in my stomach.  Unsure of what this new development would lead to, I grabbed the large pot I use for brewing beer from my closet and placed it close by on the floor, ready for whatever disaster might strike.

Well, I started to fall asleep with the pain coming in gentle waves, saltwater lapping tenderly at my open wounds.  You get used to anything after a while, really.  My neck started to hurt so I started to gradually work my position back toward something more comfortable.  I went too fast the first time and found myself reaching for the ole brewpot, but after sitting back up I realized it wasn't yet its time.  Now, more slowly, (we're talking over the course of 2 or 3 hours), I was able to eventually settle into relative comfort lying on my back.  Sweet, sweet, intermittent slumber.  Eventually, around noon, I dragged myself from my room-made-torture-cell and sat down on the couch next to my roommate, still feeling like the walking dead.  I explained my evening and my current state-of-being, and you know what the first thing she asked me was?  "Can I get you some tea?"  Ah ha!  I might feel like death, but that bowling ball of agony has receded into something feeling more like a softball of extreme discomfort, and I'll be damned if tea didn't come out on top of coffee once again.  

Unless you're truly an addict and convinced you're going to die anyway, you would never EVER drink coffee on an upset (tortured) stomach.  Tea on the other hand can be quite pleasant. Honey vanilla chamomile or peppermint tea please!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Another reason why.

My Grandma with the White Hair lived to be 92 years old, and be damned if I ever saw her drink a coffee in the 25 years I've known her.  Not that I'd remember anything before say the last 21 years, and I probably don't remember half of what happened through undergrad (thanks a lot you enormous plastic bottles of vodka).  Grandma had a glorious brain- she conquered every crossword those bastards at the New York Times could contrive, and was a poet through and through.

If you don't drink coffee, you might hope to be half as cool and live half as long as Grandma with the White Hair.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Mexico, Old People, AOL, and Coffee

Why shouldn't you drink coffee?  Because AOLnews said so.  Well, that's not really the full reason, so let me explain.
I recently visited Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for about ten days.  My reasons for the trip were many, most of which were based on personal enjoyment and recreation.  Quite selfish, really, but also quite nice.  The biggest driver was of course the fact that one of my best friends from high school (Justin) and his older brother (Duncan) were going to be there, and I hadn't seen either of them in a long, long time (well, everything is relative I suppose). To get ahead of myself a bit, Puerto Vallarta is absolutely beautiful and has the proper mix of some touristy crap attractions and real Mexico, and our trip was filled with beach time (obviously entailing ridiculous amounts of frisbee, ocean swimming, wave battling, babe-watching, volleyball, and tail-chasing), more chasing of girls, partying, hiking, exploring town, running, snorkeling, and just generally having a great time.

But if you're a gringo and reading this and thinking about going, please pull your head out of your ass- you're not special or entitled to anything- and travel with a bit of humility and respect for an amazing culture and people.  Anyway, these friends of mine were going to be in PV because their grandfather retired there a handful of years ago.
Old People
Grandfather is known as Papa Bill, a man I've known since the early years of my childhood.  Papa Bill is a generally jovial and carefree man.  He moved to Mexico some years ago with his somewhat unfortunate girlfriend Michalene, or Mike.  Mike isn't a bad person per say, just hyperanal, obnoxious, lives in constant fear, and is a chain smoker.  We think Papa Bill could have done better is all.  Anywho, when we were but wee lads, Papa Bill had AOL as an ISP.  I'm pretty sure this originally stemmed from Justin's influence and the popularity of AIM instant messenging at the time, but it just so turns out that Papa Bill never quite kicked the habit, and he happens to be one of approximately seven people in the world that still uses AOL.
AOL is an outdated, useless web browser with little functionality and news headlines that would look more at home on the front of a tabloid.  On one fine morning in Mexico however, AOL came through.  I opened up Papa Bill's internets and it defaulted to the AOL homepage, revealing the top headlines of AOLnews for the day, and low and behold, the second story down was titled "Study Provides Wake-Up Call for Coffee Drinkers."  Que bueno!  Finally, (un)popular media backs Evan's stand against coffee!
The "article" describes a study that found the "boost" in energy that habitual coffee drinkers get from a cupajoe is actually just the reversal of what they call acute caffeine withdrawal.  In other words, until you get your fix, you're just suffering from withdrawal.  Like a crackhead.  

So why shouldn't you drink coffee?  Because AOLnews says so.  And because you're developing a substance dependence and you're no better than a crackhead.  Soon enough you'll be stealing and selling your roommate's Wii games to pawn shops for coffee money.  Mugging old ladies and hard time will soon follow, and who knows what deprave and disgusting things you'll do for your coffee fix in prison.

and for proof of all this, here is the AOLnews article...
Proof that you can't trust Coffee Drinkers because they are like Crackheads

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Bitter Old Men.

Sometimes I transform into a bitter old man.  It's mostly only when I'm around who we'll refer to as The Professor.  He's not a bitter old man either, but when we share one another's company, we both transform.  You can sense it, the bitter is almost palpable when conversation initiates.  It generally starts as a complaint about something simple, some general discontentment, which then grows into a spirited rant about some frustrating facet of our lives (and I must say, The Professor and I both have the capacity to generate some excellent and righteous rants).  From there, it has the potential to mutate into a malicious rage and a hatred for humanity.  Soon enough, however, one of us realizes what is happening and points out to the other that we've once again become bitter old men, and a slightly refreshed and relieved chuckle ensues.  So what does this have to do with coffee, you ask?  Coffee is bitter, and I certainly don't need any more bitterness in my life, lest I not be able to chuckle myself out of the next bitter-old-man rant-rage.

Don't drink coffee or you could irreversibly transform into a bitter old man.  And that should be especially frightening to you female coffee users.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

A Brief Post...

This one is extra short because I should be doing work right now, but I wanted to revisit a point from a previous post.  Coffee makes you poop.  This was made brutally apparent on my recent airport excursions between Buffalo and Phoenix, and more specifically by my inability to avoid using airport bathrooms.  I hate airport bathrooms for two reasons.  The first and least relevant reason is that they are used by hundreds of people from all over the country and the world, each of them carrying a unique cocktail of diseases that they spread over everything they touch.  And even if you're as crafty as I, you still always end up touching something in those bathroom-disease-pits.  The second and most relevant reason is that the men's bathroom is always filled (FILLED) with suit-coat wearing uptight businessmen that are unleashing stressed, angry, coffee-inspired toilet-catastrophes all around you.  It is just awful.  I'm sure that this is not the case in the lady's room because women obviously do not ever fart or poop. 

To the airline-veteran wearers of suit-coats: lay off the beanjuice when traveling for your own good and for the safety, sanctity and comfort of us all.

I think I probably use hyphens too much, but they are just so damn handy!