At the back of the hill

Warning: May contain traces of soy, wheat, lecithin and tree nuts. That you are here
strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton.
And that you might like cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Thursday, November 24, 2016


It is traditional at Thanksgiving that a member of the group, entirely without prompting, bores everyone present with either a prayer before we tuck in, or some bushwa about how we should all be grateful for something, and he will now detail what it is that he can be grateful for this year.

Which is probably dreary as all git-out.

Here's what I am grateful for: My apartment mate is quite dysfunctional.
It's called Asperger's Syndrome, and it means that she is totally oblivious of certain things unless they are explained to her, forcefully and in detail.
This means that she is unaware of how dysfunctional I am.

She will spend the day cooking, then pack up stuff and go to her brother's house for Thanksgiving Dinner.

I will not celebrate, and will have no Thanksgiving Dinner.

I plan to wander around Chinatown for a few hours, eat a pastry or two, smoke a pipe, and be grumpy till evening. Then I will enjoy the peace and quiet in my own neighborhood for a while, when everyone else has headed somewhere for turkey-related revelry. Really, as usual dammit, I have no celebration on the schedule. I have never "done" Thanksgiving, and haven't participated for most of my adult life. I don't seem to be normal. Yes, for the first time in years someone actually extended an invitation, but I shall be content grumpily sulking up a storm, as I had already fully resolved to do.
I've been anticipating scowling and growling for weeks!
I am petulant, and good at sulking.

Bah, humbug. Thanksgiving is for patsies. Turkey is a miserable bird that puts you to sleep. Stuffing is nasty. Relatives are over-rated.
That game? A complete waste of time.

Fortunately she does not know any of this.
I wouldn't want her to worry.
Or feel hurt.

I am grateful for milk-tea.
I am grateful for pastries.
I am grateful for Sriracha.
I am grateful for Aspirin.
I am grateful for cheese.
I am grateful for pipe-tobacco.
I am grateful for apple wood smoked bacon.
I am particularly grateful for sausages, and ice cream.
I am grateful for cheddar and sour cream potato chips.

I am also immensely grateful for nitrates, nitrites, sugar, salt, saturated fats, cholesterol, alcohol, carbon monoxide, masturbation, the Arts Council, nuclear weapons, the Daily Telegraph, and not properly labeling fatal poisons, but, above all else, most of all, I am grateful for the ONE thing that can come out of people's mouths: vomit!

One of my favourite C'town restaurants closes for Thanksgiving, which is unfortunate but just as well, as I do not wish them to know that I am a social failure and do not participate in many celebrations.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.



  • At 11:17 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I like pasties too.

  • At 12:39 PM, Blogger The back of the hill said…

    Which bakery?

    The charsiu sou at AA are very good. As are the loupo beng at Yummy. I'm fond of both.


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