OKAY, BEULAH!

It turns out that one of the people whom I know on Facebook thinks my previous essay about 'Burnt Weenie Day' is too negative. Why, there are tonnes of good people in this country sincerely celebrating! And my sneering at them is unjustified and uncalled for. So I apologize. With limitations. No apologies to Alabama, Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas. Nor to Arizona. Their politicians are unprincipled opportunistic butt lickers with badly hidden retrograde cavemen (or women) tendencies and merit calumny and insult.

Still on the fence about Georgia, however. Yes, there's Marjorie Taylor Green. Unmitigated and repulsive. But one of my favourite fellow pipesmokers lives there (John O.), which speaks in favour of the place. Let the one stand in for the many.
No hellfire and brimstone yet.

Wouldn't want to visit the place, because it's filled with chick-fil-A, grits, vidalia onion soda, brown recluse spiders, fire ants, ticks, termites, and all the usual mosquito-borne illnesses (chikungunya, dengue fever, malaria, West Nile, zika, and yellow fever), plus, apparently, syphilitic inbred idiots living in the swamps.

But I admire John's commitment.
He is by no means insane.

Also NOT on the shit-list: South Carolina. One of my all-time favourite tobacco companies (Cornell & Diehl) is located there, staffed by literate real human beings, with a head-blender (Jeremy Reeves) whose innovation and attention to fine details has maintained nearly unviversal (meaning my own) well-being and mellowness for years.



Specifically INCLUDED in my bad-tempered snarl of castigation is the area just to the south of California Street, between Hyde and Van Ness, whose wretched denizens set off explosive devices shortly after midnight yesterday, continuing with brief interruptions during which one could, deceptively, sink back into slumber, till nearly four in the morning. Heathens!

I sincerely hope they catch food poisoning today.

Undercooked chicken products.



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