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Agent Cooper

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"Until it goes *click*" [03 Aug 2008|07:06pm]
I leave the garage door open while doing yard work out front. The lawn mower and other implements of destruction travel through there from the shed out back.

Today while cutting the grass, I realized some dumb cunt in gangbanger red was standing next to his Honda, the back trunk open, 30 feet from my garage. There are no houses or businesses on that side of the street, he doesn't live on my block, no reason for him to be there. Just standing by his trunk, obviously waiting to yank something from my garage.

Unbelievable!

I don't know what he thought he'd get. The TV is worth $15. Good luck taking the elliptical trainer. Maybe he thought he'd get the bike, but I keep it locked up. Because of idiot homeboys.

I thought about walking over and showing him my fucking gun. But then I remembered I don't own a gun. Partly because of my temper.

I went about my yard work, thinking, "He can't really be THAT stupid." Idly practicing my Police Report skills: silver-blue Honda 2-door, tall skinny black male 18-25, red baseball cap. Couldn't read the plate without walking towards him.

As soon as I closed my garage door he got in his car, started it, and drove off.

Of course my worry now is that he'll be dumb enough to come back, try to break in. Which would be fine, if only I were there to catch him. With a hammer.
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Mouth Feel [03 Aug 2008|07:40pm]
[ music | Cinder and Smoke - Iron & Wine ]

I went to Cafe Vega for a coffee tasting. A fellow from Stumptown was there and it was just like a wine tasting: inhale deeply of the grounds, then quickly slurp the brew into your mouth, trying to aerate it. "Like using a spray bottle to spritz it across your palate." There were spit cups. But no cheese and crackers.

I love coffee, but it was just a trifle ridiculous. One coffee promised: "Fragrance of Jasmine mutates into flavors of Dutch chocolate, roasted almonds, meyer lemon and plum finishing with chamomile tea like grace."

The Sumatran tasted like weed (honest!), and damn if the placard didn't promise "a taste of cannabis." So maybe it's not all bunk.

Tasted six coffees, brought home a bag each of Gautemalan and Kenyan beans.

Turnout was very sad. Three of us. There were a few more in the shop who didn't bother to get up from their tables for a taste. Woe to the independent coffee shop in the Central District.

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