IT'S A BUCKET!

One of the sights that absolutely sickens me is two people smooching. Huge sloppy kisses and barely restrained groping are NOT suitable for the public street, nor for the eyes of little children, families, or easily startled pets and passers-by. Or, as it turns out, sour old armadillos.


But that's quite likely just a serious twinge of envy. I actually wouldn't mind doing that myself sometime. Somewhere suitably private, of course.
I've been frightfully lonely these past two and a half years without love, affection, and companionship.

No, I have NO intention of getting a dog. Or a cat. They'd probably object to my pipe-smoking, and insist on vegan kibble in the dish. Besides getting piercings and garish tattoos during their puppyhood. Kittenhood.
A goldfish who likes strong tobacco would be nice.

Most of my best relationships presently are with inanimate objects. They have such interesting opinions. Chairs, tables, couches. Bookstores.


One of these days I'm going to replenish my spice rack. Other than frequent purchases of hotsauce -- to be used in the middle of the night with horribly unsuitable snacks -- I haven't shopped for strong flavours in years. Maybe it's time to throw out the dried oysters too, as that bag dates from autumn of 2010. Somewhere there's a block of hard shrimp-paste from Malaysia that I was going to use in curries, but never got around to.
As well as a dried fish; a flounder. There were two of them; the first one got used for broth already, as the second will also. The flounder is presently not alone, however, as I have got it a companion; a beautiful and fragrant dried croaker. Suitable for steamed pork patty - haahm yiuk beng.
They make a lovely couple, perhaps I should treat them as puppets?
Why hello, ms. Croaker, you sure look nice today!
Thank you mr. Flounder! Kissy kissy?
Piscine smoochies.

I like the idea of cooking, but the process makes for a lousy solitary vice.
And if you don't bother, you never have to throw out green bacon.

This afternoon I shall have a late lunch, and do some people-watching afterwards. While thus engaged I shall enjoy my pipe; it keeps the other humans at a safe distance. Please don't go near the man with smoke coming out of his mouth, dear, he might bite.
Oh, and he's probably a carnivore. That type, yes.
See, he's even dressed normally!
That's mighty suspicious!

I'll puff fiercely if I have to.



Random concepts: sambal, oyster sauce, dried shrimp, mensen, Isabel Allende, Vietnamese-English Dictionary, Old Gowrie, Keemun tea, keris, sarimanok, scales, a fat egret, combs, Charatan pipe, Cheri Chung Chor Hung, balsamic vinegar, Khartoum, Jacobins, Lumumba, Kashimashi, racing nuns, saffron, shadows, slang, Jan Fabricius, Vergeelde Portretten Uit Een Indisch Familie-album, sour cream & onion, Aṣṭādhyāyī of Pāṇini.


I could have sworn that there was a red stapler around here somewhere.



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