119 This Stinks
You can tell
That hasn’t happened here in the Intellect Capitol of the Western World, yet.
The three that ARE here have been trained to make a concoction developed at the Wessays Secret Mountain Laboratory. It is called a “Tire Fire.”
You take a large cup and deposit two shots of espresso. The older the better. Fill the rest of the cup with the normal burned-taste coffee they serve and that’s that.
The “Tire Fire” smells and tastes exactly like its name.
If you have never been at a real tire fire, you have no idea what you are missing. Vulcanized, steel-belted-radial rubber burns slowly and said fires can burn for months, depending on how many hundreds of tires there were.
It stinks. And if you’re there for more than a few minutes, YOU stink.
And no matter how vigorously you scrub, the odor remains in your nostrils forever.
It’s tough to describe. But think of a combination of boiling tar and smooshed skunk.
So the clerk asks “why do you call it a tire fire?”
And the customer answers “Because it smells and tastes like burning tires.”
So the clerk asks: “…so why make a drink like that?”
And the customer answers “you have to like tire fires.”
The point of all this is the thing keeps you awake. It makes “Red Bull” seem like chamomile tea.
Energy. Boundless energy.
Probably not for the faint of heart. In fact, probably more than one a day will make said heart explode.
There’s another good name for a non-alcoholic beverage. “The Exploding Heart.”
Maybe add a little Red Bull to the “Tire Fire?”
Like Scotch and Aussie beer, Bach and “Law & Order Criminal Intent,” this is an acquired taste. It takes training and discipline to acquire it. And it takes perseverance and dedication. Don’t expect this to be easy. Nothing this good ever is.
Start slowly. Test and push your limits. Reduce your daily exercise program if you have one.
Side effects include palpitations, flutter, dizziness, nausea and itchy scalp. In rare cases, it causes delusions and twitching of eyelids and middle toes.
So take only as directed.
I'm Wes Richards, my opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.
(c) 2006 WJR