THE SLOPING BROWS

There was a strong strain of insanity or dysfunction in the place where I had lunch. And once again I commend the waitress for being a saint, my galactic-over-rice was blessed, as was the strong cup of Hong Kong Milk Tea. This may have something to do with the current position of the moon, Toishan, or pandemic burn-out. It's close to a full moon, everyone there excepting myself was Toishanese, and it's been over a year and a half since this whole thing started.
Lord knows I'm sick of it, and I may be loopier than I was because of it.
Of course, I was probably plenty loopy to begin with.


The name 'Ashley' always seems to mean a white-trashy blonde.


Especially in its double 'e' form.


Yeah, a table of white people came in while I was finishing my tea. It's still tourist season. Made worse by the three day weekend. The great thing about tourists is that one doesn't have to visit Texas or Florida; one can experience the richness of the great red states simply by staying home. Including their inability to wear masks. Because it might hurt their big white noses.


佩戴你嘅口罩正確啲啦，死鬼佬！


Remarkably, local Caucasians are often also quite unaware of how to wear a mask, or as red-state selfish and apathetic about the possibility of causing the death of children under twelve, immuno-compromised individuals, and the as yet not vaccinated. It's a 'mah freedums' thing. Plus they love their faces, and don't see why they shouldn't show off their perfect features.

Some of them must have snacked on paint chips as children.

Possibly there has been inbreeding.




Tomorrow: lunch at a place where white people rarely go.




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