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, May 10, 2017

FAR MORE UNSUITABLE THINGS

Someone discovered an essay from over two years ago yesterday. And, totally ignoring the content, fixated upon one passage. A fairly important passage, admittedly, but a sub-subject merely mentioned in passing.

I had written:
No, this blogger does not speak Wenzhouhua. The local restaurant in the town where I grew up was owned by folks from Zhejiang (浙江 'jit gong'), but the kitchen staff were Cantonese, and the headwaiter came from Shanghai. Although everyone had spent time in Hongkong. So I've heard something similar (Wenchow is located in Zhejiang), both from the proprietors and their families, and the headwaiter. But I never learned it.
A pity, because one of the young ladies was extraordinarily nice.
It's something I've always regretted.
She entered highschool when I was already finishing my fourth year.
It would have been unsuitable, even by Dutch standards.


Yesterday's comment:
You should have pursued it, bugger unsuitability. Surely you have done far more unsuitable (or even unspeakable) things since returning to the States?
What happened to her?

[Essay and comments: A FEARSOME LANGUAGE: 温州話.]


When I returned to the United States she would have been in her third year of high school, with three more years to go. We had no friends in common.

I do not know what happened to her at all. When I went back to North Brabant, she was no longer there, and neither were her parents. I got the impression that they had all moved to Belgium, but I never found out.
I have wondered about it since then. She probably ended up totally different than I imagined.

As far as unsuitable and unspeakable things done since then are concerned, my lips are sealed. I admit to nothing.


Actually, there isn't a whole lot to admit. Besides some occurrences on the seedy side of North Beach and in the TL, and a few things overseas, life has not been a particularly eventful affair.

Nothing particularly dastardly, other than co-conspiring with my ex during our relationship to keep everything secret from her family. Which didn't work out too well for me, because when we broke up after several years she still had them, and I didn't have anyone anymore.


Savage Kitten and I broke up six years ago. Since then I have been single. Which is something one gets used to. There are no suitably unsuitable women in San Francisco.

I usually eat alone, I have no cellphone, I do not ogle women in bars, or visit hip clubs. Largely I keep to myself, and in my free time I read interesting articles, or wander about after lunch with a pipe.
When I get home in the evening I have coffee or tea.
And commune with my stuffed animals.
Who are fascinating.

Uncontrollable furry anarchists, with thieving tendencies.
A lack of boundaries and grasp of property.
Nor any respect for authority.
Thugs.




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