Saturday, July 11, 2020


Sadly, Swedish Princes Cake is NOT made with real princess. If you thought it was, here's some more bad news: Girl Scout Cookies. And I'm beginning to think that my apartment mate is trying to fatten me up, for reasons entirely unconnected with the soup cauldron or the stuffed turkey vulture who keeps wistfully daydreaming about corpse. Corpsie-corpse. Nice corpsie-corp! The turkey vulture is convinced that nice ripe corpses are just there for the taking. Surely there's oodles of dead people outside?
A generously fresh carrion filled wasteland?
It is manifestly a sad personal failing of mine that I don't bring him back a ripe cadaver that's nice and juicy to eat.

Good thing he also likes cake.

Maybe I'm too scrawny.

And perhaps my apartment mate has finally realized that I am, in fact, a thin old bean. What with the bakeries and teahouses in Chinatown no longer part of my regular weekly ambit.

I've largely stopped going over there. No places to eat, fewer people to watch or converse with. It's become too quiet and somewhat depressing, and I realize that many of my favourite eateries won't ever reopen.
I worry about the staff at all those places, who weren't living high off the hog to begin with, and for whom life has become a whole lot tougher.

People for whom cake is more out of reach than it was.

Cake. It's such a happy word.

If you've ever eaten in Chinatown, you probably took the low prices for granted, not considering that if everyone is being paid less there, their lives do not approach yours in comfort and certainty.
And prices in C'town were quite low.

These were hard working people. On a thin margin.
Which is now a whole lot thinner.


It did not have to be this way. We had three months warning before the lockdown, we saw what was happening in Iran and Italy, and we did nothing. Then three months of lockdown. And we still did nothing. We wasted nearly six months with our collective thumbs in dark places. Half a year that we twiddled. It wasn't China or the Liberals that did this, or Colin Kaepernick, it was us. All of us. We did this ourselves.

Seeing Alabama, Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, the Carolinas, and Texas turning into disaster zones gives me no pleasure. Never-the-less, screw them. They gave us Trump. Screw him too.

Roger Stone is probably clenching his buttocks in delight.

I most particularly want Florida and Texas to rot.
Mobs, the rebel flag, and possum pie.
No one likes them anyway
Kentucky too.

Hey Donald, that mask makes your ass look fat.

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1 comment:

Cecily said...

And Orange Fool doesn't have any of our current president in it.

If it did, I wouldn't eat it. But it's really good.

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