Street Cred and Whip Cream

Every day when I wake up in the morning I’m immediately tired.  I’m not sure if I sleep well at night, but it seems that I can always fall back asleep for hours upon wake up.  I spent five years in the Navy, and even though every person I worked with always had a huge mug of black coffee, I never grew the addiction to the black crack.  I just never really needed it to get by.

Now that I’m out now and going to college, I find that I can’t even get through my morning without sipping on something that has some type of caffeine.  This is where my problem comes in however.

I hate the taste of coffee, I mean really hate the taste.  When my wife and I go in to a Starbucks, I tell the coffee girl to make me a caramel frappuccino with extra, extra, extra, extra, extra, extra caramel.  I honestly tell them five shots of extra caramel because I hate the taste of coffee so much.  My icy cold brew has to be literally a syrup of sugar and caramel. I think my wife is slightly embarrassed to enter any Starbucks facility with me because of this.

That being said, I found a new place to get coffee, a local coffee house.  They serve the best-blended caramel de leche that I have a hard time not getting it in the morning on my way to college.  Unfortunately however, when the girl working asks me for whip cream, I always feel a bit guilty.

Why?

The brawny side of me (the lumberjack, the side that wishes he would hunt more, or chop down trees) immediately tells me I’m girly and real men don’t drink blended drinks, none the less whip cream.  The little kid in me however remembers that anything associated with whip cream probably is a damn good thing,

So of course I say yes.

Upon my arrival at school, I always mix the whip cream in to my coffee.  For some reason, I believe people look at me differently, thus affecting my street cred.  In my mind, I actually see people staring at my frosty plastic cup of goodness and telling each other that real men don’t eat whip cream.   Somewhere, I wonder if this is an unspoken guy code.  Along the lines of not peeing next to a guy in the bathroom, and always sitting one seat away from a guy friend in the movie theater.

I’m sure when Ugg first ordered a tall glass stone of raptor pee (cause sometimes, Starbucks coffee actually tastes like it), he pondered the same exact thought.  Of course, it wasn’t whip cream but you get the point.

Addiction and Pizza

I’m not sure when it happened.  It might of been my very first addiction actually.   The rush of waking up every Saturday morning,  and running towards it.  It’s slim delicate design in my hands and it’s grooves pressing against my thumbs.  It was cold when I first picked it up, but it would get warmer in my hands as I pressed it’s every surface.  It’s what every 90’s generation x child was doing at the time and it felt good.  Damn good.

T.M.N.T.T.M.P.

Still don’t know yet?  Still don’t have an idea of what my addiction of choice was?  Well, I’ll give you a few hints.

1. It gave me karate skills.
2. It was beating the life out of anyone that stood between my turtle (Leonardo if my brother didn’t pick him first) and that tin can of a bastard Shredder.
3. It was the amount of pure pleasure one gets when executing the perfect air horizontal kick to the face and knocking the enemy on their butt with stars coming out of their head.
4. It was throwing the plastic device called a nintendo controller across the room when getting upset at my brother for allowing my character to die at the arms of the pathetic foot ninja.

It was…  Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - The Manhattan Project

Oh the name alone sends thoughts and memories in to my very brain.  I will always remember the day we brought it home from Toys R Us.  My father allowing us to put our hands on the “Game Insert” that you had to take up the counter for the employee to go and get.  You would wait as he/she would run back to the sliding game area and pluck your very game from the abyss of Nintendo games.The drive home just waiting to slip that hard plastic device in to the greatest freaking invention known to any kid.  I loved it.  I loved every part of the game.

It was the simple pleasure of knowing that I was coming closer and closer to defeating Shredder and saving the world from his evil demise.  What?!  Bed time?!  Screw bed time.  I didn’t need to sleep.  Sleep was for kids who didn’t have a Nintendo.  School?!  Screw school too!  My teacher had no idea that I couldn’t turn off my Nintendo, for if I did, the travesty of starting over would be more than I could bare!

Man, if I could go back and relive the moments with my brother playing it, I would.  And it would be awesome.

And so it begins..Again!

Well, an opening post I believe should highlight the mind behind the person writting it.  As of right now, I’m going to just leave this post here as a placeholder for the site.  Eventually I’ll go back and make this more of a history lesson behind myself, but for now, it works just as a teaser.

Cheers!