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.

Monday, November 21, 2016


Yesterday the apartment mate came home steamed. She had chauffeured her boyfriend ("wheelie boy") down to San Jose, and apparently "the motha-f**ker didn't shut up the entire g-dda**ed time!" From which one can deduce that he's a lousy back-seat driver. As well as not entirely sane, because a sane person does NOT irritate someone with Asperger's syndrome driving on the freeway in the middle of a rainstorm.

After ranting for half an hour about her boyfriend, she turned on real-life crime on teevee, to help her relax. Jealous wives and husbands, guns, murder, and blood spattered walls.

In retrospect, I had a much better day. North of San Francisco, the rain stopped shortly after I got to work. The sun even came out briefly. No conversational hazards to speak of, as the cigar smokers were too busy howling at the football game on teevee.

I got a lot done.

Her pressing need for a drink afterwards does disturb me somewhat. She opened up a can of Hansen's Orange Soda to reward herself and unwind. This is not normal. I usually fix myself a nice soothing cup of coffee upon coming home, that's the ticket. It clears the mind.
I seldom if ever drink soda at home.
But I did not grow up here.
It's very American.

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