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, March 27, 2017

DON'T DREAM; THAT'S WHERE THE FRIKADEL LIVES

Woke up out of a dream in which Tausug speakers and BasileƱos were having a furious argument. I never spoke much (any) Yakan or Samal, and whatever Tausug I once knew has gone by the wayside.
I was at a loss for words.

It was damp, and the heat was oppressive.
Probably just the down comforter.


According to the weathermen we were supposed to have a downpour. Serious rain. Not quite biblical proportions, but something significant.

That was it?!?

Barely even moistened the pavement.


Wahab Akbar was assassinated in 2007, in Quezon City.
I have no idea why that came to mind.
November 13.


In my second dream everybody was eaten frikadel except me, because the hot mustard was gone and I was being neurotic about the proper way to enjoy a deepfried stick of ground horsemeat, binders, texturizers, flavourings, unidentified bestial proteins, salt, and spices.

Sometimes I can be far too picky.
Everything smelled so good.
Hot fat. And nutmeg.
Shag tobacco.



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