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.

Saturday, June 10, 2017


An ocassional reader e-mailed that rather than sneering at the British Conservative Party as "a bunch of bitter whinging wreckers who hate everybody", I should have instead lamented that they did not decisively win. Because, as he offered, "that perfectly describes you and most of your blog posts these past two years".

Me, a bitter whinging wrecker who hates everybody?

Not so! I am the sunniest of people! Truly!

Sneering is a celebration of life.

There are in fact an overwhelming number of people and things I love.

A short list: chicken curry, milk tea, intelligent waitresses at bakeries and chachantengs, kittens, rats, elderly dogs, Hillary Clinton (she still pisses you lot off!), Dianne Feinstein, comedian and wise political commentator John Oliver, bad movies, Oolong, Suisin, Virginia pipe tobacco and Virginia - Perique mixtures, Latakia, stuffed animals, my apartment mate and her eccentric view of the world, Cantonese swear words, a nice bit of cheese, sambal, and that fellow who was refused entry to the number 70 by the bus driver because his luggage was too large.
He so very much wanted to have breakfast in Mill Valley!

It really sounded like he had been away from the heart of civilization (that being Northern California, precisely and approximately) for far too long, and that he was keen to rediscover stuff he fondly remembered from years ago.
He was utterly disappointed.

And breakfast in Mill Valley does sound splendid, provided it contains meaty products and gluten, and is served in the afternoon. With copious amounts of strong tea. Basically a proper British fry-up leavened by profound Mexican and Southwestern culinary influences, followed by a bowl of Samuel Gawith's Best Brown Flake, eaten indoors while a soft rain falls outside and the tourists huddle disconsolately in doorways.
Far from the bums and the crowd.

Unfortunately none of my friends live in Mill Valley. The task of bringing civilization to Outer Bunfudgistan is too much. They aren't masochists.

I hope he came up with an alternate plan. There are many places on Lombard where breakfasty stuffs may be enjoyed, and the Dim Sum Club is not too far a walk. Almost anywhere in San Francisco has hot sauce, even the tourist restaurants, and hashbrowns taste good with either Tabasco or Crystal. Frank's too, but Tapatio not so much.

A good strong cup of coffee with the meal, and a nice pipe after, and you'll be right as rain.

Did I mention Teddy Bears? They also add to joy to one's existence. Along with bitter melon, fish sauce, egg plant, Greg Pease's Regency Flake, and Scandinavian Tobacco's many fine Oriental blends. Soft comfy throwrugs, a warm cuppa, naughty business, antique post cards, and a stuffed penguin wearing a kippah overlooking the bed.

Other things that please me: little girls happily walking with their mommies, tiny fragrant flowers on bushes by the roadside, the smell of wild anise, parrots flocking in Sue Bierman Park, two-tone briar finishes.
Comoy did the two-tone finish better than anyone.
It really brings out the translucence.

I am a bright cheerful man.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


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