FRESH AIR

Yesterday was a day for obsessions. If you let me loose on the internet for several hours, what happens is the drill-down search for odd things. I'm fairly certain that's not unusual; my apartment mate spent a large part of the time on the internet too, and consequently I heard squittering and chirping in Vietnamese from a dermatological clinic in Hanoi that deals with skin issues. Which, in that neither of us understand Vietnamese, is somewhere between soothing, and because I know what they are talking about, disquieting.

Pimples, zits, blackheads, cysts, boils, and ingrown hair.
Plus infected follicles. Hard little sacs.
In great detail!


No illustration will be provided, because this is a clean family friendly blog, and even her cute little children's story, which spontaneously erupted from her fertile brian, about little sebaceae dreaming of freedom and yearning, yearning for the open air, will not be retold here.
It is too graphic, and NOT suitable for little kiddies.

Sometime after dark fell I needed a break, and headed out with a pipeful of good tobacco for a smoke. In contrast with the previous night, the neighborhood was quiet, probably because a lot of people were recovering from playing golf with a hangover. Or perhaps doing the traditional new years plunge into the waters of the bay, with a hangover.
Fried breakfasts. With a hangover.

That would be young white people, of course. Local Cantonese people and the not insane like myself do not drink excessively much on New Years Eve, and in consequent have nothing to be hung over about.

Many of us don't see a reason to have another year.
The last one was perfectly fine, really.
Let's do all that again.



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