OH, THE GHASTLY HUMANITY!

All night long idiots have been setting off fireworks. The sound of explosions from near and far was not conducive to a good nights rest. Consequently, today I'm siding with the English. Damned colonials!

First smoke of the day in a Charatan Canadian pipe, slightly re-topped.
A blend of two different red Virginias with a pinch Perique.
After, of course, absorbing a cup of coffee.


It is too early to be exposed to people pooing their dogs.


The great American past-time.

All over the city there are folks who will not be able to pick up dog poo with all ten fingers tomorrow. Mostly frat boys and urban rednecks. Male. Naturally. Their extraordinarily patient and long-suffering helpmeets of either gender will have to go out and act like human shovels, bedraggled and sleep-deprived, hair matted and clumped, because Bubba James just had to be an idiot, and play with explosive devices despite being inebriated from drinking shitty beer since before lunch on Independence Day. Poo must be picked up after Rover.
And so it damned well shall be. Hell or high water.

My piles bleed for them.

Yesterday the prospect of dumplings was spoiled by the obese red-headed child who kept stepping outside to set off fireworks, returning each time with a satisfied smirk on his puffy face. His grandma regarded him with pleasure and pride, the tattooed mom-person seemed zonked and out of it, the aunt kept adjusting her make-up. You know, ladies, when someone keeps disappearing from the family dinner table to "do things", that's almost a sure sign of addiction. Does Sonny Boy also smoke pot? Probably needs it to put up with you.

Good luck when (and if) he goes off to college.
He'll pair it with pizza then.
Bloat-o-rama.



Fortunately the entire ghastly lot of them had left by the time my food arrived. So I was able to enjoy my 白菜豬肉水餃 ('paak choi chyu yiuk seui gaau') in the relative peace and quiet of a crowded Chinatown restaurant, there being no other juvie white breads to fly the ointment or set off explosives right outside the plate glass windows.

Plus sambal, milk tea, and a pipe afterwards.
Dutch Uncle was a contented man.



On Wednesdays I usually bring the Indonesian Chinese auntie downstairs some groceries from shopping on Stockton Street. This week, peaches and okra. Persik dan katjang bendi.
It provides her with human contact and something healthy.
And it's good for my self-esteem.
Proves I'm human.



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