IT'S BAT COUNTRY

Don't know about you, but white trash singing karaoke doesn't do bupkes for me. And it seemed like there was an entire trailer park of them in there tonight. Musically, the entire evening out was a no-mans land. Gangbanger attitude rap at the restaurant, something something something at the beer hall, and unknown suburban hairdo songs at the bar.
Very loud. Because white folks are often extremely loud.

This is the seventh circle of hell.

When we walked by earlier it had looked bearable. An hour later that had changed. As I get older, it strikes me that today's twenty and thirty somethings need to be spanked unzestfully.

Or we need to unleash the killer rabbit on them.



To be honest, I cannot think of a generation more worthy of being let go by San Francisco software companies in today's economy than this one. All those loud entitled tech-bros and barbies should go back to Modesto and Kansas city.

No morals, no taste, no self-restraint.

And get off my lawn!

Damn' kids!



Of course one doesn't say anything, because for all I know they could all be gun-toting Christian nutballs who voted for Trump. Loud white out-of-towners frequently are.

Good smoke. Peaceful. Very few tourist strolling back to their hotels. Dinner earlier had been followed by a pipe also, plus some informative exchanges in Mandarin, which because I am terrible at it I usually don't admit to speaking. As a big-beaked kwailo I have a built-in excuse for being Mandarin disabled. Dutch and German, no problem. Sie können hier nicht anhalten, das ist Fledermausland!

你唔可以呢度停，係蝙蝠地區！

Beware of bats, and men with jaunty smoking equipment.
Pineal gland extract is one hell of a drug.



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