I am so fucking angry. I need caffeine.

I am 59 years old. I should be calm and placid.
Or dead.

Not so. I am fucking furious and fuming.

I have just read an article about the corporate thieves who  sell what they call coffee to the world.

You know, Starbucks, Costa etc.

The ones who thieved the beauty of the Italian espresso bar back in the 80s and turned it into this grotesque global money-minting machine.

I cannot explain or describe how angry I feel. Certain things cause me, an already near-permanently angry old man, to overheat, almost to spasm.

The music for The Archers on Radio 4 is one such irritant. The words Starbucks, or their pronunciation of a type of coffee as "lah-tay" is another. Even worse is how scum-mongers such as Costa coffee have compounded the sins of the (initially well-meaning) Starbucks project.

They are all crooks, of course. How much do those horrible mugs of frothed hot milk and sugary additives really cost them? How much do they pay those poor girls and boys who look at you so blankly when you ask them if they can produce something a little stronger than usual? They just want to sell you a muffin.

I hate how Costa and Strabucks appear like a rash wherever there's a little disposable income. I hate how they have forever ruined two innocent colours - Costa red and Starbucks green.

I want more caffeine, I do not want some marshmallow-infested gloop with sweetie-pie hundreds and thousands floating on top!

I want fucking coffee! Is it too much to ask?  Even at the South Mimms Service Station on the M25 where caffeine is surely a necessity and could be sold at a premium. No such thing. That liquid fudge you just sold me is not going to help me avoid that 16-wheel arctic that is about to srcunch my poor little Renault to nothing.

Blah!