WOODEN SNOB

Previously on Wednesdays I would end up going to two places during the afternoon. Lunch and milk tea, errands, pastry and milk tea. That latter has become rather a waste of time and money. Still like the place. Taken a scunner to some of the regulars. I am not social enough to surpress that scun. So, lunch and milk tea, smoke a pipe and do my shopping etcetera, then catch the bus back. Stopping by one location briefly to scope out colourful cigarette packs. And home before the evening rush hour.

Dealing with people one-on-one is better than dealing with them one-on-several.

Which leaves plenty of time for other things. Let's see, shall I sit around in that extra time with my thumb in a dark place, or do something useful and marginally more constructive? Prepare a hot beverage? Doomscroll? Look up seal script and jinwen script variants of words? Fiddle with pipe rims? Why, the possibilities are endless!


Perhaps I should bone up on the intricacies of cage-brawling, which appears to be the new national sport, suitable for lawn parties, birthdays, and displays of patriotic fervor.
Far better than clowns doing magic tricks and blowing up balloons.

It's probably going to be more rim work, as I am not into sports.
Yes, that's un-American of me, I know.
Meh.

This is the time when all my fellow Dutchspeakers are joyously anticipating clobbering other more innocent people in the sport of the deities, absolutely smashing their hopes and dreams like we did a few years ago with the Mexicans. We are just better at soccer than everybody else, but, sadly, absolute crap at team work, which explains why we don't own more of the world and enjoy the fruits of you lot sweating in the verdant fields as we relax in the shadows of our deep colonial verandas with a cold drink and a long cheroot. While all the rest of you work up a sweat. As we should.

Please work harder at harvesting sugar, opium, and spice.
Entertain us with your colourful native dancing.
And kindly stop misbehaving.


Darn heathens.



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