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.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016


It's the season of disease and berserkety. Yesterday I did not leave the house because of a stuffy nose, which alternated between plugged solid, with swollen sinuses, and flood-like leaking. That actually prevented any berserkety, because I just did not feel like it. I stayed home, dozed, read the news, dozed, and read the news again.

The news, nowadays, is a horrid substitute for chicken soup.

I want milk-tea, a good smoke, and some rambunction!

Today might not be a day for that either.

Which does not please me.

I rarely get ill, and have not needed to take off for my health in several years. My philosophy about taking sick leave has always been that you don't call in but show up anyway, establish that you are miserable but a trooper, then on the first day that you feel well enough to party, make sure everyone knows you're at home with the sniffles.

That has never worked. The one time I really shouldn't have gone into the office was on a Saturday, and I was the only person there. The only reason I didn't collapse on the cable car back home was because one of the other passengers was a monumental know-it-all boring dunderhead, and hearing his voice droning to another passenger was irritating.

I had heard him several times before. Always the same self-centered tales of the past. Oh shut up you old cock. Don't look this way, I am NOT going to make eye-contact. Keep staring straight ahead.

He's dead now, I think, or in a care facility where they keep him sedated.
Haven't seen him in years.

Anyhow, the point of all this is that I never call in sick. Yesterday and today happen to be my weekend, and it gripes me no end that my nose and sinuses aren't making me happy. They're ruining my days off!
If I'm going to feel nasty, I want to be paid for it.

I think I'll shave and wash anyway, and go into Chinatown for snackies at some point. Gotta get out of the house. Some very mild berserkety.

Should I smoke around little children, or old people?
Or maybe blow clouds at the pigeons?
Maybe I'll just cough.

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