coffee anyone?

Age 41. Made my first cup of coffee today. Goggled the french press thing yesterday. Watched a video. The coffee looked like standing water on a muddy fire trail. After spraying my toaster, blender, Sodastream, subway tile, iPad, and "Pork...The Noun Not The Verb" artwork with almond milk I realized you are supposed to froth the milk before you add it to the latte. Kate, the neighbor, was kind enough to bring something called a drip something over this morning. It was much better than the french thing—easier clean up, as well. The thing is, I don't care so much for coffee. For me, it's all about foam. Foam foam foam. Te quiero foam so much sometimes I just sprinkle it with sugar, spoon it off a restaurant latte and call it a day. I've even been known to make-out with the inside of coffee lids obliterating every last beautiful bubble with my tongue-y tongue tongue. That's a good day...foam so thick it resembles a dreamy white mini-Matterhorn summit atop a latte, foam so thick some could easily mistake it for a porcelain doll's naked bum "ass up" bobbing for apples in your cup. Happiness is where the foam and the buffalo roam, and the skies are not cloudy all day.