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.

Sunday, February 26, 2017


There are times when I am glad that my apartment mate is not a social creature. Things do not get said that otherwise would. When she took a message from my uncle and aunt (requesting that I call them when I returned), she was matter-of-fact, and businesslike.
They did not remember who she was.

All they remember is that my "girl-friend" and I split several years ago.
That the two of us still occupy the same apartment escaped their mind. Somehow they believe that my uncanny resemblance to my father extends to my being a Don Juan. Hoo ha!

My father was a romantic man, and the ladies thought him a fine specimen.

I am not romantically gifted, and I remain rather oblivious to what the ladies think about me. In any case, I have had no entanglement of any kind since then, because I am, generally speaking, dense.

It is sad. But I have my briar pipes, tobacco stockpile, and the shrunken head collection, and that's all any man should need.

Anyhow, once Savage Kitten had finished transcribing the message and the call had concluded, she realized that she could have told them that she was Mitzi, the new flame, transgendered, formerly know as Ricki.
As well as an Orthodox rabbi.
And black.

She sometimes wants to channel for one of the monkeys when at work.

"You go now, little nick-nick person, you not good enough.
Don't come back without bananas!

While I am typing this, she is channeling for the she-sheep's Scottish family.
Something about scones and clotted cream, and how our household is not good enough for their little girl.
"Jeremy, I told you those people were savages!"
"Now now, Boudica, now now."

Anyhow, I talked to my uncle and aunt. They're pleased as punch that the brilliant grandson in Los Angeles is at the Oscars, which I really must watch, oh it will be so exciting!

My cousin the kid's mother will be in the audience too.
As well as the young lady whom he is dating.
And his sister, whom I haven't met.

I haven't seen the movie.

Savage Kitten is now singing songs from Camelot, while shopping on the internet. This apartment is, withal, not a particularly silent place.

She has also encouraged me to have some of the chickpea and spinach Indian bread, heated up in the fry-pan, with plenty of butter. The head sheep, who loves butter, objects, as it is the last stick of butter!
The she-sheep wishes that he wouldn't be so selfish.

If I start dating again, I shall bring along a sock-puppet. It will accustom whoever it is to the other voices (I just got insulted by the monkey, btw), and introduce her to the alternate realities within this abode.

Jeremy & Boudica. Never heard their names till now.
Mitzi and Ricki are quite new on me too.

My kinfolk don't know about this.
Any part of it.


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