REALLY, IT'S THE FOOD, ISN'T IT?

When I got home the plaintive voice of the turkey vulture came from the other bedroom, inquiring whether there were any fatty inner thighs. For a creature that normally should eat carrion -- and in his previous abode subsisted on dust bunnies -- he's developed some quite curious high fallutin' tastes. And I've explained to him that the likelihood of me whacking elderly drunks to harvest their edible body parts is, on the whole, rather slim.
There are laws against that. Apparently.

Those are still enforced, despite what you may have heard about the San Francisco "Doom Loop". And smug maga trolls squawking to the contrary. They've got unhinged jaws.


After a long wait, and a very satisfying pipeful, the bookseller finally showed up. Bus service for us common folk is already disrupted by APEC, and it hasn't even started yet. They're expecting twenty thousand people. Narco-terrorists, corrupt high level Asian functionaries, despotic third world politicians, and their ignorant and arrogant flunkies and lackeys, plus sundry wives, mistresses, concubines, bookies, catamites, kids, and spoiled brat teenagers whining "I want to go to Florida!" As well as asking what this dump is, why aren't there more burger joints, can we put caviar on that, and why don't they have roti canai with melted mentega dengan sambal bilis like they do in Kampong Busuk at the Haji's foodstall?

And of course there will be protestors. Because America just has to be embarrassed by self-righteous juveniles from UC Berkeley, and SF State, and pretentious middle-aged gits out of the suburbs who want a spotlight. So of course the Secret Service and Homeland Security will be all over the place, protecting the very important foreigners from the natives, and trying to limit where we can go, what we can do or think, and who we can talk to or be within three or four blocks of. There will probably be beatings.

I, personally, have no donkey in this fight. I have no need to speak with Datuk Ali Hassan Pencenderungmembunuh or any other Malay aristocrats and towkays.
Zij kunnen allemaal de pot op.

Fortunately, other than high security starting two blocks away, and my daily returning from Chinatown after lunch and shopping being rerouted, the visits of very important people will not affect me. Or my friend the bookseller, who will be out of town for a fortnight, and so will be blithely oblivious to Mentri Sri Baunajis' desperate need for adulation and obsequey.

I just hope the bastards don't eat all the precious sambal.

Or interrupt me when I'm quietly smoking.


It is unlikely that any of them will want to see Chinatown. They already know what real people look like. They tend to avoid them.


Welcome to San Francisco, all of you very important people!

Do you have fatty inner thighs?



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