GO AHEAD -- LIGHT BOTH ENDS

This blogger is keenly looking forward to Tuesday, when I shall be off for a day or two, and at leisure. It isn't that I seriously mind catering to the several nicotine-addicted middle-aged paunchy gits ("da solid bidniz men") whom I see at work, it's that there are times when I wish to play old timey communist songs full blast just to spite them.

As you may gather, many of them are right-wing.
A few make Donald Trump look sane.


I am a total expert at insanity. It's part of my psychological toolbox, because I live in San Francisco, and know far too many cigar-smokers.
There is, in this modern day, something peculiar about the breed.

Fifty years ago smoking cigars was fairly common, and in that era even respectable SANE people indulged. That was the day and age when the only crazy people smoking cigars were elderly troll-like men with their pants cinched up to here, and trilbies on their heads.
They often reeked of tuna salad.

All those precious old dears have passed, and nowadays many tattooed freaks and foaming Republicans huff stogies. Plus, I discovered recently, chunky e-commerce pudge-pots celebrating a bachelor party.
Which is probably a good thing; the likelihood that one of their friends will be pulled away from his video game and conceivably have sexual relations with a real live flesh and blood woman must fill them with gladness.
There's hope for the tribe yet!
Procreation may occur!

Multiplication they understand. But simple addition baffles them.
Man plus woman equals does not compute.

May the force be with you, little Harry Potter. Be fruitful.
Nanoo, nanoo.


As an insane expert, I can only conclude that some of the women in this city are completely nuts. Either that, or they figure that a baby elephant seal can't wriggle very far, and can be trained to be a good monkey.

That explains the e-pudge bachelor party far better than biology.
Some women don't have a strong survival instinct.
They take unnecessary risks.


Anyhow, one more day, and then I can refresh my self among sane people. Smoke my various briars without being considered eccentric. Speak happily of voting for a Non-Cro-Magnon candidate in the next presidential election with no fear of a misguided cheroot-sucking parasite chortling about "liberals" and wetting himself with glee.

I like cigar smokers, I honestly do.

It's just that sometimes I get tired of the reek of bananas.

Or the flying poo.


Pipe smokers, such as myself, are completely sane and normal, and have very few peculiarities. I feel I must point this out. Compared even to non-cigar smokers, we are balanced, and refreshingly even-keeled.
You can introduce us to your parents. Always.









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