CANTONESA, PURA Y DURA

Two young ladies on the bus. Which caused this blogger to forcefully repress his inner Humbert Humbert. No, they did NOT look like the slutty juvenile temptress that Vladimir Vladimirovich so tastefully described.
Too sweet and innocent.
As well as ladylike.
And refined.


Roundish faces, nice cheeks, elegant moth-antenna eyebrows, full lips and angry eyes. Features and physical characteristics that would make a dead man blush.


I shall not mention what I think their age might have been. Cantonese people always look far younger than they really are. One Cantonese gentleman I know is my age but looks many years more youthful.
So for all I know these two young ladies may already be college graduates. It's a talent.

Nor shall I describe them in any great detail. Any accurate explicatum would pull the perverts in. And there are already far too many such.

[Somewhere between twenty and forty would be my guess. Use your fermentive mind, and don't go nasty on the imaginary details. Though if you do, please imagine a savage slap upside your face.]

Neither one wore any scrap of Hello Kitty.

Not consciously alluring.


But, if they were employed at a cigar bar or tobacco shop, they'd make any damned cheroot seem smokeable. Precisely like my classmates years ago who successfully persuaded me as a young lad that the bolknak (which is the quintessence of a figurado vitola) would be an altogether excellent smoke. Or a tuitknak from Hajenius, Oud Kampen (La Reina), De Heeren van Ruysdael, or Justus van Maurik. Exquisite choices.
So elegant! So magnificently femmy wemmy!
Or, for men, masculinny-winnie.
Macho-wacho.

[Bolknak: a fat Dutch torpedo, pointy at both ends, with a gradual taper at the mouth end, a blunter taper at the tip. Tuitknak: a smaller more elegant version of the bolknak. Nearest equivalents are variations on the Perfecto, and it must be mentioned that Oliva makes an excellent version, although the La Libertad short perfecto is not to be sneezed at.]


If these two were selling smokes, the store would be empty of product in mere hours.

We're on fire now, dudes!
Delicious. Divine.
Delightful.


Sometimes I wish I were fifteen years younger.


Yes, ma'am, I will buy that cigar.
Can you light it for me?




Please note: I was going to edit out the creepazoid factor, but on second thought it had to stay. This blog veers close to the cusp of disturbing at times, which may be why some people read it.
It's sort of a hallmark.




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