Song Of The Day: Headlock / Imogen Heap
Word Of The Day: Cacoethes / A bad habit or insatiable urge

Thank you, thank you. You're really wonderful. Yes really, please (waving from giant neon hovercraft, floating over a throng of adoring public).

So, I'm doing coffee enimas now, in an attempt to detox my liver and colon. My liver needs help, you gurlz. It's fucking good for your liver and skwit. You should try it and snit. It could fix your shit and snit. Here's my prescription for whatever ails you:

Prepare: Arabica blend. Espresso grind. Cool to room temperature.

1, Fill enima bag with contents of coffee pot.
2, Fill colon with contents of enima bag.
3, Fill porcelein oracle with contents of colon.
4, Fill room with glow of healthy, ebullient trikaya radiance.

I doused about a half gallon of Starbucks French Roast through the Brown Crown this morning, and I report: General bouyancy. Pervading sense of transparency. Rock hard erections, increased girth. Higher SAT scores. Decreased domestic violence. Infra-red vision. Ultra violet aura.

Even barring those phenomenal results, who wouldn't want two ways to imbibe the beans? Color me a holistic whore, dumpin' some on the tongue, pumpin some up the bung - and I'll confess, I thank GOD I don't have to choose between the two. You might as well make a new mother decide which siamese twin the doctor will kill in surgical separation. This caffeinated coupling is a cathartic catholicon, gurhlz. I fucking have a bounce in my step, people. What can I tell you? Get the edge.

Sure, I see a culture forming around this pratice. In the 70's we saw Key Parties, the 80's a rise in alternative medicine, 90's brought the big bang of coffee shops -Starbucks, Caribou Coffee, Seattle's Best - a coffee shop on every corner. The new Millenia marks the synthesis of these three epochs. Key parties become caffeine parties, holistic becomes hole-istic, and the commercial super nova that is coffee morphs into a curative social ritual. People will gather in the tens, then hundreds. The taboo of anal (first softened by the advent of truly populist pornography) finally gone, salons emerge, the coffee "shop" shifts into the mystic coffee clinic. "Mystic", because essentially it's a metaphor for non-duality. Two diametrically opposed apertures, synchronized in twin-ship. The Entrance and the Exit, could they be anything butt the turnstile of What IS and What Isn't, the Wheel upon which all form and emptiness circulates itself, respiring expansion and deflation of innumerable Kosmos? "Coffee" cuz that's the agent of insight. "Clinic" cuz it heals. The future of love is here. Take a sip with those lips, slip its funnel in your tunnel. The one on the top is the one on the bottom. The alchemists called this correspondance; As below, so above.

Enima bags are $12 at Walgreens. What are you waiting for?