At the back of the hill

Warning: May contain traces of soy, wheat, lecithin and tree nuts. That you are here
strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton.
And that you might like cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Saturday, March 31, 2018


The disconnected man in the modern era reaches for the company of like-minded though far away people as much as if not more than back in the seventies he did for LSD or subversive literature. Although on a Saturday evening in San Francisco, the internet is nearly empty. Everybody is out getting blotto on nasty-ass fruit-flavoured vodka ('Svedka'), committing rambunctious unsafe sex with the neighbors, or celebrating passover.
Which started yesterday, and continues for another week.
The second seder is tonight.

But enough of that. I am not pesachdik.
Today's lunch proved that well.
Carnitas burrito.

There is no such thing as a kosher le pesach carnitas burrito con everything, and it was as good a celebration as I've had in five years.
Same goes for any damned holiday in any damned calendar.
I'm just not a friendly and huggable quantity.
Socially, I am Doberman.

Not the friendly Doberman next door you used to play with as a kid, more like the savage snarling Doberman with trust issues that belongs to the retired cop two streets over. The one who eats stray children.
The beast voted most likely to develop rabies.
Yes, that Doberman.


All day long people have been asking what my plans are for Easter. Rather than explaining in great grumbling pissy detail that I have no faith left, do not believe in the resurrection, and have no family or children with whom to celebrate bunnies, I have politely stated that I have no agenda.
And will probably just enjoy a quiet and sunny day off.

Food, and smoking my pipe, in Chinatown.

Oh, plus the internet, of course.

No eggs. At all.

The internet exists for only three things: cute kitten pictures, pornography, and Hungarians.

Here's a seasonally appropriate kitten picture:

I was smoking outside earlier. And it got cold.
That's why I'm a little grouchy.

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


  • At 5:27 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Happy Flying Zombie Jesus Day.



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