FAIRY PRINCESS BREAKFAST

If you really think about it, the breakfast of total champions should be a big slice of Swedish Princess Cake, a small cup of strong coffee with sugar and hot milk, and a half shot of good dark rum. With that in your system you can tromp the moors, smoking dark British style flake in a shellbriar billiard with a taper stem, the sandblasted pipe of the just, whacking at the weeds with a blackthorn walking stick while joggers and dog walkers yield before you.

My apartment mate called in sick today. The flue shot is ambushing her out of left field. She had a slice of Swedish Princess Cake for breakfast, none of that other stuff, then predictably forwent the pipe and dark tobacco, and retired to her room to nap. I had woken up to Rajeev or Manesh or some other skeevy subcontinental trying to tell me about unallocated burial funds up to ten thousand dollars per lucky decedent in California, and simply disconnected the call. So there were opportunities unavailed aplenty.


My apartment mate is uninformed about good dark rums. Like many good little Chinese girls she's made it all the way to middle-age without habitual drinking, her indulgence being once or twice every several months adding a teaspoon of liqueur to a hot beverage at night to help her sleep. There would be no point in gifting her a bottle.

Diplomatico Ambassador Selection, for instance.

And unlike me, she doesn't smoke a pipe.

We agree on Swedish Princess Cake. I had it for dinner last night, she had it to start the day this morning. The perfect tobacco for tromping about the moors whacking at prickleburs was Fribourg & Treyer Special Brown Flake. The moors where the whacking happened is the top of Nob Hill, or one block down on Taylor street if I'm feeling energetic (because I need to eventually trek back up to get over the hill, and my legs you know).

"Paige from State Resource Center just called to inform me that social security often leaves gaps for final expenses" at which point I hung up. A robocall by subcontinentals.
No Swedish Princess Cake for Sanjeev.
Bad Indian!


We have no rum in the house. I do not eat breakfast. Cup of strong coffee, pipeful, tromping. Avoid Van Ness, no need to inspect the fentanyl trolls going into a coma down there near the childcare facilities, slowly amble up a block or two, then across and down again.



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