SALINE ODOURS

The repulsives in the back room were remarkably civilized today. There were no venomous disputations, no maligning of someone else's character, no screaming disagreements, or voiced evil. Well, someone did at some point roar something that included the words "mothe (Alps) cker" "you si (Alps) sterd", and " go sho (Alps) your rancid (Alps) (Alps) (Alps) iot", plus a short phrase which implies procreational activities by an alleged saviour. But it was at a gentleman on the televion who was in some way connected with a sportive event.

I had other things to do, so I did not watch the game.
There are always other things I can find to do.
Like fondling a Peterson apple 87.
Mmm, it felt very good!
Smooth briar.


The Peterson interpretation of the apple shape is more like a Dunhill than a GBD or Comoy. This example is a straightgrain, waxed but not stained, so a "natural" finish. Saddle stem. Very 'old school' looking.

Filled it with a Red Virginia blend, and enjoyed a quiet hour despite the horrid racket from the backroom. There' a bit of a swamp smell in the building, due to heat and the recent high tides. Fecund. A hint of decay. Something salty. Perhaps a dead animal in the mix.

A pipe smoke helps disguise the aroma of putrefaction.

Imagine a stretch of mudflats half a mile away filled with dead fish and bird carcasses. There are probably suburban teenagers out there huffing pot and mushrooms in the hot sunlight, while drinking stolen bottles of their parents chardonnay and pinot grigio.

They don't smoke tobacco. Tobacco is evil. It leads to disapproval, ruined job prospects, pimples. Also, it conflicts with Axe body spray or Hello Kitty perfume.

Leave before the tide comes in and hides the evidence.
Drag your unconscious friends.



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