Please note: In order to justify his own foolish past actions (some as recent as last night) and arrive at an equally foolish conclusion, the author of this article has relied upon myriad myths, half-truths, and downright ridiculous fabrications concerning the harmlessness of alcohol when aided by the alleged messianic powers of coffee. No doubt, these lies were told to the author by other drunkards and degenerates like himself at some sloppy bar circa 2:58 in the morning. The editor of this article has marked the vast majority of the author's bullshit with asterisks (*) for you, our respected reader.

For millennia,* binge drinkers have sidestepped the full impact of alcohol's short term consequences with coffee.* Whether you need to sober up for a safe drive home or eliminate tomorrow's nasty hangover, coffee is the cure you're looking for!*

Now, I know what you're thinking: Sure, coffee can take care of sloppy drunk losers in the NOW, but what about the liver disease and broken familial ties that will plague us in the future?

Let me tell you, friend: you've got nothing to worry about!* Recent studies have shown that every daily cup of coffee you drink dramatically increases your chances of escaping long term consequences of alcohol abuse altogether.* I've also read studies* that show that coffee helps to prevent heart disease, Parkinson's, and diabetes. It's a miracle drink with no adverse side effects!* Screw all the old crap you've heard about healthy lifestyles-- stuff that involves tedious exercise and dieting-- I say we go get hammered, slam some jamocha, and live forever!*

Click on the link to read all about it!

The editor would also like to mention that the author of this article never actually read the news report linked to here. After the author announced the news report's title (Coffee Defends Liver Against Booze) in a loud, obnoxious, Ooh-Looky-Here type voice, he did a little dance, pointing to his coffee cup and raising his eyebrows at the editor saying, EH? You hear that? EH? Midway through this sad display of ignorance / arrogance, the author suddenly realized he was late for a job interview and ran to the kitchen to pour himself a thermos full of Jameson and Folgers. The editor then stood at the door, shaking her head and regretting the last two years of marriage, as the author walked backwards to his car, pointing at the thermos and shouting EH? EH? for the entire length of the driveway.