Free Coffee. Damn it.

Somebody’d better come with me to SWEETLEAF in LIC sometime this week to get free fucking coffee. I know some of you may in fact find this funny, like: “Haw haw, I never go to do sh*t with Andre anyway.” Or you might just be plain lazy: “But Long Island City is so hard to get to… and I have a final in two weeks that I have to study for every hour of every day (in verit.- it’s not, and you don’t. Asshole).” I know that many of you — and I’m pointing at you with my massive finger of accusation — drink coffee daily from your little boutiques where there’s always some peppy-/stocky-looking barista with her hair tied back who looks like she’d be nice to talk to, but in reality she’s not (and I know because I’ve tried); she’s just another stuck up coffee maker who’s pissed off because she has to deal with the French all of the time and is probably in one of your classes and doesn’t want you to see her working there. To you coffee regulars I upturn my accusing hand and beckon with the pointed finger. Come get coffee. It’s free. And you shouldn’t have any money, because that’s abnormal.