WORKING CLASS DELIGHTS

There are times when I regard aspects of my job with distaste. I can deal with the screaming and howls of despair that erupt frequently from the backroom, because it's sports related and those old 'forks' are just soiling their pants over "the game". Many times, however, they go on about how electric cars are a communist plot which will force everyone to use bathrooms that contrast with their biological gender, New York was a much better place when it was still run by Mafia dons, and all of "those people" were happy down on the plantation but the darn liberals went and spoiled all that.

Some of the very worst Third Reichians in Marin are Jewish.

Manifestly, Trump is the Messiah.


It's hard to ignore them when they are in full mating dance. They ruffle their gay confederate plumage, and puff out their chests. Hop, hop, hop, and pose! Inflate neck, loud screech! The only thing remarkable is when, like many cathartids, they poo on their feet for coolness rather than in their diapers.

Just pretend you don't notice the peculiar gibbering, dear, and select a pastry.
Do NOT establish direct eye or ear contact. It's dangerous.
You never know what will come out.

You're right in the middle of a bloody reptile zoo, and somebody is giving booze to these damned things. It won't be long now before they tear everyone to shreds.

I suggest the egg tart. It's great with tea.



My days off are really enjoyable. Surrounded by sane people. Well, I'm not sure that they are entirely sane. They now live here, which is dubious, and conversationally I'm not fully up to speed with them. But there is more of a brain evident, and the snacks are excellent.



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