When I’m making coffee, sometimes I’ll get impatient and take the pot out while it’s still filling up and pour myself a cup, allowing some of the still-dripping coffee to drip onto the hot part of the coffee maker and make a sizzling sound while staining it. And I don’t even care.
That’s just a peek into my twisted psyche.
The sickest and most twisted part about you is you’re not drinking some form of espresso like a normal person.
in what upside down world is espresso more normal than a drip coffee maker?
maybe if you’re, god forbid, european. but that doesn’t count
Welcome to my twisted world. I live in a place colonised by the brtsh that a bunch of Europeans moved to years later. I’m cursed with cultural whiteness but somewhat decent food
at least the bri’ish didn’t leave their food there and you still have spices