FLYING IN A FOG

The last conversation with my roommate last night before I went to bed was a long Asperger rant about her eldest sibling, which illustrated that he has inherited some of their mother's not-so-good characteristics. This morning while out smoking I concluded that he too must be on the spectrum. I suspect that all of her siblings are.
I also realized that some of my father's characteristics demonstrate that, though he was probably not nearly as deeply Aspy as my mother and my brother.
In his case, it gave him a certain charm.

Aspys mostly cluster around other Aspys.
Neurotypicals become Jocks.

While out walking I couldn't see the top of Nob Hill because of the fog. Precisely the same as when I came home yesterday, though later in the evening the apartment building there had been fully visible. The fog waxes and wanes, which is a result of wind.
The first crows were already audible.

I am quite fond of crows.

They're probably the neurotypicals that I most appreciate.


There were five of them feasting on a rodent corpse in the fast food restaurant's parking lot yesterday when I walked by. Although feasting may not be the right word. In a way that was very suburban bourgeois. Fast food dead rat for breakfast. Quite as nutricious and delicious as deep-fried McCrusty crap.

The thinking Aspy wakes up with caffeine and nicotine.
The Jocks of the world can have that other stuff.
Otherwise it would simply go to waste.



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