THAT WILL WAKE YOU UP!

The pizza from 7-Eleven is better than the Italian place on Stratum's Eind made. It has been quite a long time since I had that, and I still remember it very unfavourably. A true New Yorker would be driven to madness by either. The wise man does NOT associate bar neighborhoods in Northern European metropoles filled with intoxicated violent yobbos with edible pizza, OR fine dining. Although there is a place there with damned good fries, krokets, bamischijven, and frikandellen. Which I remember as well as the pizza place but for different reasons.

You know what this neighborhood needs? A frietkot that's open at six in the morning.
A frikandel met scherpe mosterd would be the breakfast of champions.
Wake these people up something good.

There were such places near trainstations in parts of the Netherlands. In the past they would be filled with working men at that hour, having a hearty snack before catching the intercity and huffing dark shag cigaretts with their strong coffee afterwards.
The atmosphere was out of this world.

Commuting students would also patronize such places.
Same coffee. Same handrolled cigarettes.
A slice of heaven.

Remarkably, the Dutch aren't big on bacon and cheese bombs, although junkfood is one of their passions. That's more of an American thing, available at many tourist hotels for visiting Anglos at breakfast time. Along with packets of chocolate and sugar frosted cereal product.
Also not a Dutch thing. Sweet woodchips with milk poured over? No thanks.

I've never been much of a breakfast person.

But I could go for a frikandel right now.
With sharp mustard, and sambal.



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RABBIT RABBIT! KIM KARDASIAN

Rabbit rabbit, for good luck. Kim Kardasian, reality teevee dingbat, believes that the moon landing is fake. She is a certifiable idiot. I only know this because NASA denied her insane statement to that effect. Do you rememember where you were when Kim Kardashian outspewed her opinions about one of mankind’s greatest achievements?

I don't. She did so sometime in October. I do not watch reality teevee, and do not follow the vacuous twit, so it escaped me entirely until I saw a news blurb mentioning it.

I would walk a mile to avoid encountering a dingbat like that.
Given my job, I sometimes have little choice.
Thank you, have a nice day.
Get lost.

So today a very nice man got sick at work. About which he was extremely apologetic. My coworker and I dealt with the situation. And we shall speak no more about it.
I am not social, but I am diplomatic.


Much of the time I deal with people who have made questionable choices involving their clothing, personal grooming, and bad habits. Marin County is like that; it's ground zero for ethnic fabrics, cargo pants, and tee-shirts advertising grunge bands or cult movies.
Plus random lectures about spiritual matters.
And the divine child within.

Only rarely do I see any of those people in San Francisco, for which I am mighty glad. San Francisco is not their kind of place. We're not very spiritual. And we either strangled the child within or gave the little sh*t up for adoption. The traveling Hungarians stole it and reared it as a cannibal. It ran away and was raised by wolves. Then it joined the circus. The machine chewed it up an spat out cat food. It had the wrong aura and we ate it.

Rabbit rabbit.



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NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================