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, April 12, 2017


Three people visited my blog today specifically for an article from a few years ago, written when I was still young, innocent, and in a relationship.
I am less young, and not in a relationship anymore.
But still innocent, oh lord yes!

There is no one more saintly and innocent than me. Among dirty old men, at least. Which is a group that statistically represents all of society, although comprised largely of springy fellows in early vibrant middle-age, many of whom are single and smoke pipes. And like Virginia-Perique mixtures, because they have good taste.

You will now kindly note that I am an absolute paradigm.
[Like Graham Chapman, Sean Connery, & Gerald Ford, all rolled into one.]

A representative of the type.

Several of my acquaintances are also rather like that, albeit not nearly so springy, and some of them don't smoke, which is very sad for them.
Although it does leave more for the rest of us.

The post visited today was Chinatown Sex Dungeons.

Short recap: One day I returned home and my apartment mate accused me of knowing all about places in her old neighborhood that she had never even heard of, and people setting fire to the sleeping homeless.
Because I am white, and we know.

As of yesterday, the closest Chinatown comes to the aforementioned sex dungeons is foot massage places where your nasty old stompers will get a wash and a hard rubbing, and though bums do sleep in the neighborhood, they are mainly ex-cons dossing down in Hang Ah Alley, mostly white or wheatish of complexion, plus very Caucasian Berkeley frat-boys losing consciousness after drinking like fish in North Beach and sprees of casual vandalism (ripping down signs and tipping over garbage bins).

University cities like Berkeley have more sexual violence, death by being site on fire, drug use, and general mayhem and thuggery, than neighborhoods like Chinatown.

You don't believe me? Try walking through Berkeley late at night.
Especially near the campus and Frat Row.

Perky middle-aged men like myself dare not go there.
See, we're not frat boys. We're normal.
Sweet and well-behaved.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:

All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


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