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 05, 2017


With all the horrible things happening in the world, what was the very first news item that caught my eye this morning? Yes, that is correct, the shtuss about a new Pepsi commercial. Which was so repulsive it was withdrawn, a crime against humanity, offensive to everyone, in extremely dubious taste, and worse than you can possibly ever imagine!

Which, of course, I would not have seen anyway.

As I do not watch television.

There has been nothing good on since Arrested Development ended.
The heyday of broadcasting started with the X-Files, continued through the Canadian series Forever Knight, and stopped in February, 2006. Since then it has been nothing but blonde slags and fat-bottomed hos.

Oh, and sports, but intelligent people never watch that.

[Everybody always says the best years of television were during their teenage years, so, in a further venture into denialism and identity-obscuranticist self-delusion I shall do the same. Which means that I saw all of the best Hong Kong splatter and gore films with Chow Yunfat and Andy Lau during my wee infancy. No wonder I grew up twisted, and became a gender-fluid South Indian computer programmer who voted for Gary Johnson!]

Most pop-culture references go completely past me. Which has always been the case.

I do not think I'm living in the past, as I am very much vested in the present. But I haven't watched a movie in a theatre since the Pagoda Palace got torn down. At least I don't think I have. Maybe something at the Embarcadero Cinema or the Kabuki.

The Pepsi commercial featured Kendall Jenner. About whom till mere moments ago I knew nothing, and intend to continue knowing next to nothing. Didn't even know the dear girl existed until this morning.
Pepsi Cola I am familiar with, but do not drink.

Why would anyone name their daughter after a town in Cumbria famous for pipe tobacco (Samuel Gawith, and Gawith-Hoggarth)? It seems sweet and thoughtful, if you are a pipe smoker like myself, but the whole idea is too similar to trailer trash naming their girls 'Brandee' and 'Sherree'.
Peculiar, and in a sense unkind.

Never-the-less, she looks rather wholesome in that severe Protestant black bikini, like she should be enjoying Saint James Flake (produced by Samuel Gawith), or even the Best Brown Flake. Something solid and respectable, rather than the nasty aromatics they make for people of extremely vulgar tendencies in America.

I feel certain that she doesn't smoke aros.

At this moment I am high as a kite on several cups of a traditional hot caffeinated beverage. I never drink carbonated stuff, and avoid anything sweetened by corn derivatives (because of the taste), preferring instead massive amounts of tea (Keemun, Oolong, or Pu-Erh), and a minute amount of cane sugar in my coffee.

The tobacco in my pipe is Orlik's Golden Sliced ("smoked by all shrewd judges"), but I am, while contemplating that picture of Kendall Jenner, now more than ever keenly aware of a massive shipment of fine English tins at the local emporium.

I must augment my stockpile before prices go up.
There is Saint James Flake there.

I have a few aged tins.
I must have more.


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