Monday, November 16, 2015

THE UNITED STATES OF MONKEY

There was no game on, so the cigar smokers in the barn tried their hands at conversation. Five tightly arse-clenched Republicans fueled by bananas.

Dear lord.

Nearly an hour of droning inanity.

Of course I was already frazzled at that point, having previously dealt with someone who was unbearably precious, and shortly following that, a visit from a survivalist gun-rights activist and anti-vaxxer worried about gmos and Round-Up (Glyphosate) in his tobacco. From whom I got the intelligence that them folks in Washington are deliberately flooding the country with violent Syrian refugees in order to drive up the price of gold.
It is a plot.


Ladies and gentlemen, it does NOT take all kinds.

There are several we can well do without.



On the other hand, I thoroughly enjoyed everything I stuck in my mouth today. Four successive pipe-fulls of one of my own experimental Virginia mixtures, the entire sequence briefly interrupted by lunch.

I am presently savouring a cup of coffee, while contemplating a fifth pipe.

The problem is that it is cold outside. Ideally I would be ensconced in a throw-rug and indoors, enjoying my tobacco. But my apartment mate gets theatrical when I light up in our quarters. The last time, a whole host of small stuffed animals accused me of murderous intent.


I would go to one of my favourite hang-outs, but Chewzilla is working there tonight, and life is too short to deal with fanged gorgonids.

By sheer necessity, I must wait until Savage Kitten is at work tomorrow before I can smoke a pipe. I think I shall celebrate by getting under the covers entirely nude, with a good book. An ashtray and a cup of tea within easy reach on the bedside table.


Why nude? Because I can, it's sensual, and I shall be alone.

If there were someone with me, I would be entirely clothed.




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