At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Sunday, September 08, 2013


Let's move back in time, shall we? Dinner this evening consisted of rotini noodles with a jalapeƱo stirfry, the pan juices extended with yoghurt.
There were other chilies, of varying degrees of heat, in the dish.
It was very good.

No, I don't think it will prove Mexican-Heartwarming. JalapeƱos are a lovely vegetable, and may also be served as salad with a simple French dressing. Or just yoghurt.

Today's teatime pick-me-up was drinkable yoghurt. Plus a cuppa.
Lunch, in mid-afternoon, was a sandwich and drinkable yoghurt.
As well as a double-bagger. Third one today. Hydration, eh.
Breakfast was (wait for it) drinkable yoghurt.
Before another caffeinated beverage.
Several cups daily.

Yesterday evening I had steamed meat patty and saltfish claypot rice in Chinatown. A whole pot of Oolong, and a big steaming mug of Hong Kong style milk-tea. But no yoghurt, as the restaurant does not have any. The corner-of-the-eye physical appeal of the waitress more than makes up for that. A small woman, very girlish, sparkling eyes.
And this youthfully middle-aged perv just loves small hands and bouncy ponytails . Oh gracious yes.
It was a very good dinner.

Yesterday's lunch, however, did include drinkable yoghurt.
Two bottles - one strawberry, one mango.
Because I knew dinner wouldn't.

Friday night's snackiepoo was a peanut butter sandwich with meaty parts. And plenty of chopped chilies. When you've run out of mayonnaise, substituting a smooth blend of yoghurt and peanut butter is not as good an idea as it might first seem. Probably healthier, but there are good reasons why nutritionists are curiously bad chefs. Should've omitted the yoghurt.

My intestinal flora and fauna are fine.
Thriving, in fact.

But, seeing as I restored ten pipes this weekend -- three Charatans, two Stanwells, one Tillshead, one Nording, and three Savinelli Punto Oros -- my hands are not fine. My right hand in particular feels like the devil herself shat it out. Six blisters, roughened skin, and sore finger tips.
The nail on the index finger feels bruisy and tight.
The joints are stiffish, and the muscles achy.
Those ten pipes are now spic and span.
No more gunk, tar, and green crap.
Smokable again. And pretty.

Still. Very sore hands.

I blame yoghurt.

Should've had more chilies, less yoghurt, and used more alcohol on the pipes. Plus lots more tea. Tea is good for you, it flushes out the toxins.
But my heavens those pipes are looking very fine now.
Even got the crud-buildup out of the rims of the sandblasts.
One of those Charatans is a really beauty.
I might even buy it myself.

That waitress would look dynamite smoking it.

It's just a thought.

Mmmm, yoghurt.

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