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.

Thursday, April 05, 2018

STINKY OLD GUYS AND DUBIOUS MUSICAL TASTES

Because this is San Francisco, the question "what are you smoking in that pipe?" should not be answered in any great detail. If, for instance, I were to respond "a variegated mixture of aged Virginias with a touch of Perique, manufactured by Orlik for Kohlhase & Kopp under the brand name of a fine old English company now sadly zombified by British American Tobacco, and soon to be no longer available", you would respond "oh that's nice" and later remark to your companion that you had no clue what the old fart was pissing on about, you were hoping for a hit of marijuana.
And you might never even speak to me again.
By itself that's no very great loss.
But I'm not an old fart.


"What are you smoking?"

"Tobacco, kid, tobacco."


On a rainy night like to tonight you would see me downstairs from a fine establishment enjoying the last smoke of the day, while younger people avail themselves of the karaoke to belt out the classics.
Or white-boy rap.

Soon, baby. I just had dinner. When I finish my coffee I'm heading out.

I am rather old-school. Instead of ruining my life and rotting my brain with weed and popular music, I shall lurk quietly in the portico with my pipe, watching the weather. Peaceful post working day relaxation.

Sporadic other smokers will pass by, enjoying a last puff before bed.


As well as the odd potsmoking twenty-something dingo.



WEEPING NEAR KARAOKE JOINTS

Please just pretend that I am a wild animal, endangered and dangerous.
If you find tobacco oppressive, and offensive to you and your enlightened world view, don't bother telling me, precious. Should I react at all, it will be only to take joy in your pain, and see if I can make it worse.

Don't irritate the vicious brute, sweetie.
He's rabid, and he'll bite you.

Go ahead and sing.
And shut up.



TOBACCO INDEX


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