#30 – Tim Horton’s Brown Sludge Water™, Part Three: A Review of the Tim Horton’s K-Cup

For the last couple of years I have worked as a generic office drone, doing generic office drone things so as to be able to afford a tiny shithole of an apartment.

(S) Office drone is about all that this piece of shit paperwork gets you in Canada

Anyone familar with North American workplace tradition knows that one of the most important ways to avoid doing any work (or, more accurately, to avoid showing authority figures that you have no idea what, if anything you’re supposed to be doing) is to grab a cup of coffee and take it to your cubicle. Unfortunately, I work in Canada, which means that I am subject to the norms of urban design in Canada. Being subject to Canada’s atrocious urban form and insane car dependence and working in an office that is too small to justify an actual coffee maker, I am forced to use what is perhaps the most evil invention ever afflicted upon those who like coffee: the Keurig machine.

The Keurig is to coffee what personal motorcar is to the urban center – a dull, wasteful, and ultimately unsatisfying experience that would have been far more enjoyable with simpler tools. How bad are these fucking things? Their inventor, John Sylvan has in his way repudiated their existence, saying that he doesn’t get why people even use them. With that kind of ringing endorsement who wouldn’t be jumping up and down for the chance to permanently piss on any perception of their product as a quality one by putting out some branded Kontent?

Enter Tim Horton’s, a company that cares about the quality of its goods in the same way that a gorilla cares about taking a shit.

(S) Even the cat on the mug looks desperate to get out of there

I have a confession to make. One morning at my office the only kind of Keurig coffee pod available was Tim Horton’s. Yes, reader – I tasted of the K-Tim Horton’s Brown Sludge Water™. And in doing so I have found a new low for branded Canadiana. Upon my first sip I was promptly slapped with the fused flavors of drywall-compound and the stale taste of week-old water trapped in a reservoir. The smell of coffee was there, but the coffee itself tasted watered-down. Which was in its way a mercy, seeing as how that collection of flavors ought to be classified as a war crime. The too-cool-to-be-hot, too-hot-to-be-lukewarm temperature and horrifying lingering stench of what honestly smelled like furniture polish mixed with glue invaded my face like Genghis Goddamn Khan. I don’t know what black magic invented plastic coffee, but a dark sorcery it is indeed.

It should be noted that I am pretty okay with all kinds of coffee. I am decidedly not a coffee snob – most mornings start with me, the cheapest coffee beans on the shelf, and my French press. But if ever this unholy monstrosity is offered to you, you run. Run, dammit. You don’t deserve that. You deserve better than Canada from the start, but that fucking coffee ruined my day. It tasted like Canada feels – cloying in all the wrong places. I cannot stress enough how unacceptable this product is. I actually took the expired K-Cup outside and booted it into the snow because of how much I hate that fucking Tim Horton’s Brown Sludge Water™ deviant.

Mercifully, McDonald’s coffee came to me this afternoon by way of coupon. Good God, have I never been more grateful for AmeriKKKa. That too-hot freedom scalding my throat because I was an idiot was a blessing. God bless America for its ability to provide coffee that isn’t wrapped in bullshit to its hapless neighbor.

Jesus Fuck, though. Fuck everything about that Tim Horton’s merchandise. Getting as far away as possible from that hot garbage is a damn good idea.

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