PERFECT OCTOBER WEATHER

When it's hot in San Francisco, my entire body hurts, especially the neck and shoulders, as well as my legs. I can barely move outdoors, and I become a bitter hatefilled man. I wish to violently expunge the louts who exclaim "oh what beautiful weather", then jump up and down on their corpses and spit.

Except that I cannot. Any activity is excruciating, my physical coordination has gone wanky, and I'll have to save that for the cold season. Can you louts please clearly mark your foreheads so that I can get back to you on this? Thanks awfully.
Verbal attacks at random in the meantime.
They might not make sense.

It got to eighty five degrees today.

I did not used to object to such temperatures. That was before circulatory issues. And before I had nurtured my bitter hatefilled side, and let it flourish. Anything above eighty degrees is naked weather, but one cannot do that when wandering around Chinatown.
With a pipe after lunch, or while shopping.
One needs pockets.


Evenso, I had a jolly good time. While in agony. Met a friend after stopping at the grocery store, we talked about changes in the neighborhood, he asked if I still went to the same place, he had not seen me there in a while. Oh yes, was there today. Given that he's seventy six, I have to wonder about the woman he frequently lunches with. Wife, or daughter?
I did not ask. I'm not a pokey person.

What a man needs, irrespective of how insufferably hot it is, is good pipe tobacco, tea, and a rattan chair so that one may sit down and relieve the throbbing.

Tea can be found in Chinatown. Oh boy. Good pipe tobacco I've got plenty of. Sadly, there are NO rattan chairs placed at convenient locations around the old neighborhood, in the shade, where on can enjoy one's post prandial pipe while grumbling or ordering a cold milk tea over ice to refresh the aching carcass.


RANDOM NON-SEQUITORIAL VENOM

For the record, Meghan Markle is an enormous vile twat. My apartment mate is watching informational discussions of that person on youtube, and after all this time I am convinced that Meghan is a psychopath and an egomaniac, very probably morally bankrupt and ethically challenged. An opportunist, and a crass vulgarian.
But who the heck cares? She's unimportant.
A symptom.



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