drip raze after every other coffee maker in the house had taken its last breath, he dusted off the cheapest of the bunch — the one he put away as soon as something more stylish came along — and he rode that white workhorse into the ground. when its legs were worn down to stumps, he brushed the bones with lemon and water and asked the beast to brew him one last pot of nabob. it howled a series of inarticulate admonishments before joining its more photogenic siblings in the graveyard of caffeine-kissed plastic urns caked with the detritus of daybreak. 220711 what's it to you? who go blather from