EVEN ONE IS TOO MANY

If you see someone wearing a keffiyeh, it's very probably an Anglo-origin bigot embodying societally acceptable anti-Semitism, and might even be a Berkelyite (or a Hollander). Not someone from the British Isles ( that's England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and Pakistan), because they dress funny and have no sense of style anyway. Berkeley. Or Holland.

Don't set fire to it, put away that Bic. It's probably made out of synthetic fabric, and you will poison everyone on the bus.


Admonitory phrase useful in so many different circumstances: "For god sake, Janet, get a grip on yourself!" Second best: "I'm here, so there's nothing to worry about".


The first five or six times I saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show were in Berkeley. At the same theatre on University Avenue where I fell asleep during some artistic and pretentious French porno flic. All I remember about that movie is that salad was involved. Fond memories.
Nowadays, of course, Berkeley is a ghastly hellhole filled with Oaklanders.
Terrorism supporting revolutionary Oaklanders.

21st. century puritans.

What I really wanted to have after returning from my cardiologists appoinment was pork liver congee with a fried breadstick and a strong cup of Hong Kong milk tea. The chachanteng was crowded, however, so I had lean pork and preserved egg congee and a breadstick at a place down the street. No milk tea. It was marvelous never-the-less. That eatery does not cater to white people, which is more of a language issue and problems recognizing the food than anything else, so not a single Berkeleyite was on the premises, nor, sadly, harmed. But for all I know there may have been piles of dead and groaning East Bay residents out back near the garbage cans. I didn't ask.

Gluten, corn sweetener, and non-ethnic fabrics were in evidence. Abundantly.
Along with plastic bags and deep-fried foods. Plus meat and peanuts.
So it would have been traumatic for them.

The only cloud on my ointment was the two Karens on the bus back over the hill. Who didn't listen to the detour announcement, objected when the detour started, loudly wondered where they were going, tried getting off while the vehicle was moving, and when it got back on the route and the bus driver went to reconnect the cables squawked "what on earth is it THIS time?!?"


"For god sake, Janet, get a grip on yourself!"


Instead of telling Janet to for gods sake get a grip on her damn' self, I informed them that the busdriver was reconnecting to the overhead cables. Despite having vocalized for six blocks in English, I don't think she understood that language when someone else was speaking.

Echt een irriterende zeurwijf.

Kvetchbitch.



You know, as I get older, I have less patience for my fellow Caucasians.
Far too many are highstrung petulant needy whiners.
Or from elsewhere in the country.
Often both.



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