A champion's breakfast has no time for American dreamers and their non-dairy creamers. Their waists and their java —sadly— are heavily padded with too many additives.

When properly caffeinated I'm competitive and often combative, and when that coffee is murdered-out without doubt I'm the slap-happiest.

Just like the boffins from Tufts I'm fed up on the value added. I've ghosted the oat milk. I boast only French roast. I weaned off the regular dose of cane sugar and sucralose. I've parted ways with whipping cream and aspartame.

Ibogaine chased with hard black chugged from a cracked mug to start the day. Unfluffed covfefe raw dogged: the only way.