GO BACK TO KANSAS, DOROTHY!

As I get older I realize that I am not the big asshole I thought I was, other people are. Sure, I'm still an asshole, but the maskless Real Housewife of San Francisco type yakking on her cell phone while letting her dog poo on the pavement right in front of a neighbor's doorway, and not picking up after the beast, truly qualifies as a gigantic monument to assholery. Put down your damned Starbucks bev, pick up after your animal, wear your damned mask, and stop yakking on your cellular device. Oh, and kindly piss off too.


For some reason I dreamed last night that I was petting a raccoon who was happily watching trashy soaps on teevee while eating potato chips.
It was a very realistic dream -- as my dreams these days are, courtesy of blood pressure medication -- and I could even smell the baco-cheese flavour of his snacks. That might have just been me.

Many years ago there were more raccoons in this neighborhood. As a non-building owner, I am not involved with putting out the bins for garbage pick-up, so naturally I disapprove of the modern bins, because they are too tall, difficult to open, and so raccoon unfriendly.

I also despise joggers. Who also refuse to wear masks. Because they're being healthy! And it's only us unhealthy people who will get sick and die horribly from the disease laden droplets, so who cares?
Just those "boomers".

That first cup of coffee in the morning, followed by a pipe smoke and a walk, are enough to get the juices flowing again, but it takes a few hours after that for the milk of human tolerance to make its presence known.

I'm now ready for the second cup of coffee.

Another pipe in an hour or so.

And maybe chips.




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