THE NORMAL BREAKFAST

If you want your lou po bing to taste extra good, heat it in the toaster oven. Or in an ungreased skillet also can. But that presumes that you bought more than just one and took it home, and that there is sweetened condensed milk on the premises, so that you can enjoy it with a cup of Hong Kong style milk tea.


I am, as you have probably guessed, not a breakfast person. For me the process of facing the day starts with a cup of strong coffee on an empty stomach, followed by a smoke, and cruising into the internet for news.
This is hard to manage when you live with a fervent non-smoker, such as my apartment mate, who is a morning person besides.

Because she is full of piss-and-vinegar at the break of dawn, many of the stuffed animals in the apartment are so also at that hour. I can hear their voices from her room, gaily disputing primacy and who outranks whom, as I blearily open my eyes while pretending that I am still able to sleep.
Eventually there are crashing sounds from the kitchen.
Plus the sizzle of something frying.

There have been times when she started the day by sauteing pork chops. Good for over rice with some soy sauce, garlic, ginger, and butter. Then she'll head to the teevee room to scarf down her breakfast while watching trashy shows on the boob-tube.

At six o'clock in the morning.



Women are cute when they're eating.
If ever I have a girlfriend, she'll do that too.

Whether that will increase the racket every A.M. remains to be seen.
I greatly fear it will; many more voices.
I shall have to hide.

I'll be under the bed, if anyone wants to find me.














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