Folks, it’s pretty simple: Don’t put your mouth-sounds in my ear-holes until these veins are coursing with hot bean water.

Normally I’m a nice person, but if you chat me up before my 9 AM with Joe, I’ll just point to my big stupid mouth and say, “Drip me!”

I’m sorry, but I physically cannot interact with another human being until I get a cup of that sweet brown acid, mud-mined and hotter than a locomotive’s whistle. Don’t believe me? This morning someone told me they liked my hair, but I hadn’t had my coffee yet, so I hit ’em with my car!

Take me to Stumptown, because until we get there, I’m the mayor of GRUMPtown.

Talk to me before my coffee and I’ll cancel your pet insurance. Hey, I can’t be held responsible for what I do under these circumstances! It’s right there on the mug!

Did you know Frankenstein is the name of the doctor? Or that people overuse the term “whom”? What if I told you peanuts aren’t nuts—they’re legumes? Yep, these are the things you learn from me when I haven’t had my coffee.

Before coffee, I’m, like, a zombie feeding on its own, like… brains or whatever, and struggling to complete straightforward zombie analogies.

No sir, I can’t function without that milky mud punch. When I first wake up, I scream at random intervals and urinate in the corners of my apartment. I don’t know how to shake hands or sit in a chair, and I think newspapers are food. Somebody get me some goddamn coffee, or I’m going to try to drink a book!

Until I get a mouthful of half-caf, I’m a podcast host on Barstool Sports. My program? Devil’s Triangle’s Advocate, sponsored by Monster Energy’s Java Monster and produced by none other than Edward J. Hardy (“Ed” for short).

Pre-coffee? Bret Stephens. Post-coffee? Sufjan Stevens.

B.C. (Before Coffee)? John Wayne. A.D. (After Drip)? Wayne Brady.

¿Antes del cafe? Alec Baldwin. ¿Despues del cafe? Not a member of the famously hot-tempered Baldwin family.

Read the room, friend, by which I mean this hilariously candid t-shirt!

Scan the signals, buddy, by which I mean the caption of my latest #lattelicious Instagram post!

Peruse the periphery, pal, by which I mean my lumbering form, crawling like a tranquilized koala to the nearest coffee shop!

Oh, BEFORE I’ve had my coffee? I’ll throw on some five-dollar sunglasses, hop behind the wheel of my Suburban, and patrol the local parks, looking for people of color cooking food on public property. Nothing personal; just haven’t had my jitter juice!

Until I suck down a steaming mug of dirt, I’ll defend your right to bring a guitar to a party. Then I’ll explain why that last “Star Wars” movie was indisputably perfect.

Catch me before that java hits my vena cava and I’ll tell everyone that the shirt you claim is from ASOS is really from Aéropostale. Hey, that’s on you for approaching me in the exact scenario warned against on the chalkboard outside my favorite coffee place!

After I’ve had my coffee, though, you can talk to me. I’ll just be inexcusably awful.


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