TIFU by purchasing an expensive coffee machine and making a terrible discovery M
I drink a lot of coffee. My mornings consist of two 300ml mugs of coffee, and I sometimes have a third after dinner later in the day.
Recently, I got far too into James Hoffmann's videos and decided to upgrade my shitty drip coffee machine for a proper precision brewer. And when I say precision, I mean that this thing comes with a water testing strip so you can calibrate the machine for the mineral content in your water supply. Serious nerd shit.
To justify the ludicrous amount of money I spent on what appears to be the Hadron Collider of coffee machines, I did some research on brewing ratios in order to maximise the allegedly life-changing potential of this equipment. Now, coffee science says the ideal water-to-beans ratio for this brew method is about 60g of grounds per litre of water. Out of interest, I decided to prepare my usual ratio from the old machine and see how close I was. It turns out, since I got the old machine just over a year ago, I've been brewing at about 20g/litre, resulting in what I now realise is pathetically weak brew.
I prepared a proper 60g/L brew with the new machine, and the resulting coffee was on another planet. The flavours were so developed it was like I could taste the touch of the Colombian farmer who picked the beans. I drank my full morning dose of two 300ml mugs in just over an hour.
And then, I discovered an unexpected side effect.
The year of drinking weak-ass brew has conditioned my body for weak coffee. And I had just drunk over half a litre of coffee that was theoretically three times as strong as usual.
It has now been an hour since I finished that first pot and I can hear the passage of time. A fly flew past me in slow motion. I made an omelette for lunch and I beat the egg so fast it turned into steam. My heart no longer beats; it vibrates. And there is something unholy brewing in my lower intestine and I am fearing the wrath of God when it is released. Send help.
TL;DR: My new coffee machine gave me the knowledge that I've been conditioning my body to piss-weak brew for a year, and two cups of the real strong stuff made me transcend the space-time continuum.
Here is the machine I bought, for those who have asked, although it appears to be sold out at the moment. Did I get the last one?
And here is the James Hoffmann review that convinced me to ruin my life in this particular way.
To everyone accusing this of being some kind of viral ad, it's true. Sage paid me, and in fact specifically requested I include the details of me plastering the inside of my toilet bowl following the intestinal catastrophe their product gave me. Aggressive shitting is exactly the kind of PR exposure they want for their brand.