15> He likes his Irish coffee like he likes his women: loaded with whiskey.
14> He likes his coffee like he likes his strippers: scalding hot and in his lap.
13> He likes his coffee like a major league catcher likes his privates: in a large, strong cup.
12> I like my coffee like I like my recently deceased Chihuahua: stored in the freezer to lock in freshness.
11> He likes his coffee like a baby likes fruit juice in a bottle: sweet, spill-resistant and something to occupy the mouth when no naked breasts are around.
10> I like my coffee like I like surrealist humor: giraffe.
9> He likes his coffee like he likes his one-night stands: stale, bitter, smoking like a chimney, with a butt-ugly mug.
8> I like my coffee like I like my women: hot. Of course, the difference is I can actually *get* hot coffee.
7> I like my coffee like I like my meddlesome neighbors: ground into tiny bits.
6> She likes her coffee like divorce attorneys like their clients: very rich, very bitter and with lots of grounds.
5> I like my coffee like I like my sex: cheap and frothy, from a girl in a green apron.
4> I like my coffee like Jacko likes his playmates: sweet, aged 8 years and covered with half-and-half.
3> He likes his coffee like he likes his flatulence: made from the finest beans, rich enough to smell from across the room and satisfying to the last “Ah-h-h-h!”
2> She likes her coffee like she likes her Iraqi information ministry: chock full o’ nuts.
1> I like my coffee like Maria Myerson, a girl in fifth grade who gave every boy except me a Valentine, even though I had written her love poems in my own blood every day — ruining me for life, that ungrateful skank prosti– um, sorry… cold, with a bitter aftertaste.
[ The Top 5 List www.topfive.com ]
[ Copyright 2003 by Chris White ]