OLD TIMES, OLD TIMES

For the first time in slightly more than a week I have been able to enjoy my feet again. The effects of the extreme heat that lasted several days are gone, the swelter is blessedly over, there's a chill in the air, and the fog is back. Today was altogether lovely. My personality is sunnier. But please bear in mind that I still actively dislike most of the world.

Good weather simply means I'm more alive, more vibrant, and much more able to dislike and downright despise all the cretins out there and their repellent retrograde primitive cesspool cities, states, and countries. Capisce?

Not that I want them to suffer. Unnecessarily.

I have a little list. Most of mankind is on it.


All of this jumped sharply in to focus when I saw an Olive Garden "endless pasta bowl" advertisement on the overhead teevee at the bar where I was having a cup of tea and my friend was sipping a Jameson's Irish Whiskey. Normally I like images of food. But good grief what is that muck? Do they use constarch and colouring? Shampoo?
Bleh and feh. An entire world of bleh and feh.

Earlier, I had been on the usual weekly rat-viewing walk through C'town alleyways.
And at times I felt that rather than being the watcher, I was the watchee.

I did see one small cat, three feckless street people, and a man having a vicious argument with a person entirely in his own head. And several military gentlemen, because fleet week is back. Plus the little old lady who insists on staying on the street where she's comfortable, rather than in housing among the other discarded elderly.


Earlier, when I had a late lunch at a regular haunt, an old gentleman had remarked 'kam ngaam ge' (咁啱嘅 "how nice", "so fitting and pleasant") when I arrived. He's been going there for a while himself, our visits often coincide. I've also seen him at different places.
We don't talk much, but greet each other. Neighbors in a sense. Same neighborhood.


My friend the bookseller is at home now having some bread, cheese, and beer. And looking up all the music of DakhaBrakha, which is hard to describe. Ukranian. Slavic rockabilly?

I'm planning to go out and have the last smoke of the evening.
Red flake in a Dunhill Shellbriar billard.



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