No, I'm not talking about LiveJournal, I'm talking about my usual Friday lumberjack breakfast. Today I decided to mix it up a bit by trying Caribou's new Pumpkin Spice Coffee Steamer. Basically it's their answer to Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Latte. At first taste, I was pleased with my Caribou Pumpkin thingy, but after downing most of it, I have to say it's too jam packed with spice. The flavor is a bit overwhelming. I hate to say it, but I think Starbucks has your number in the Pumpkin Spice department, Caribou. May I suggest trying a tie-in deal with another company? Like Jimmy John's Big John Latte, or a Chipotle Carnitas Burrito Latte? Hoo boy! There's a trip to the bathroom that'll wake the neighbors!

On my Monday morning mocha run, I saw this little froggy crawling on the outside of the window at Caribou in Lakeville. Maybe he just wanted to show off his frog junk to the customers sipping their lattes.

One of my friends was telling me recently that she won't frequent Caribou Coffee, the nation's number 2 fancy-ass coffee chain behind Starfucks, because an Islamic bank is the majority owner of Caribou. Sorry, but whenever I hear a claim like this, I always smell bullshit a la Target not supporting veterans. But according to my trusty bullshit confirmer/buster Snopes, this particular nugget about Caribou is fact! Granted, it's nowhere near as nefarious as some would have you believe. So continue scarfing down those lumberjack breakfasts from Caribou with your conscience intact, folks. Though it wouldn't make a bit of difference to me. They could make their mochas from baby penises and curdled sweat from between a fat lady's thighs for all I care. The shit tastes good. Damn good. That's what matters.

In the early 1900's, big burly lumberjacks bedecked in woolen plaid would tell bawdy jokes around the morning fire. They would sing ribald songs of felling trees and bedding buxom ladies while chowing down on low fat berry muffins and washing them down with nonfat decaf mochas (hold the whipped cream). At least that's what I tell myself to feel less emasculated over my usual Friday breakfast.