ALL THE BOOLAS

Two ex-military men were boisterous and repetitive at the end of day. I was tired and hurt in several places, as at this age is common, but I was never-the-less able to remain courteous. Because I have trained myself to graciously put up with people. Despite sometimes wishing to say "thank you for your service now get the floody buck out of my face you utter blister". Which might be unprofessional, you understand. And conceivably taken amiss.
I do not wish there to be any amiss taking.

Definitely not in Marin County where people are sensitive and spiritual and might have big feelings, saints preserve us.

It's a very special and delicate part of the world.


I will be off work for a few days and I look forward to having real food in San Francisco while dodging the heffalump tourists from Karenstan (the Red States) with which at present we are awash, as they waddle waddle waddle down the sidewalks in dreamy slo-mo on the lookout for shops that sell "my parents visited fishermans wharf and all I got was crabs" tee-shirts in sizes extra-large through extinct prehistoric carnivore.

Sometimes it feels like the entire population of McAllen, Texas, is visiting.
Or Alabama and Mississippi, where everyone has diabetes.
And every damned meal is deepfried.

Yes, I know I should be kinder about my fellow Americans, but please remember that Trump won the election, which means that over half the country voted for him and can't be trusted.

There is precious little intelligent life between the Ferry Building on the Embarcadero and New Hampshire. No wonder we're the only place where space aliens land. Good food, and more books per capita than any other place except Singapore, which also has resident space aliens. If you see somebody looking remarkably like Will Smith running down the street with a strange device, kindly step out of the way and avert your eyes. It's serious business.


No, I shall not tell you where to get good cioppino.
We're all out of sourdough, please leave.
Beat poetry was not written here.
We have no mayonnaise.
It's bloody sad.



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