Yesterday was my apartment mate's birthday. And I like that woman, so I bought a cake and some foody substances. As well as gifting her with action figures. Two admirable people. Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Anthony Fauci. As well as a spider monkey. Who will join the other small roomies that infest this apartment and often say outrageous things. Or tell me that I should eat more, so that eventually when I croak I will have nice fatty thighs upon which to feast (that's the turkey vulture), unlike the wiry pins I have now, which are undoubtedly too tough and stringy to enjoyably beak apart. Not as scrumptious as a raptor (scavenger) would like.
Sorry, little buzzard dude, I eat enough. Plenty.
My thighs are fine the way they are.
As was the Dungeness crab which I brought home.
Having seen the internet meme of the crab with the steak knife, I did not place sharp objects anywhere near him. Yes, it would have evened the playing field, made the confrontation more equitable, but that was not something I desired. Headline: "Jury sides with crab who stabbed kwailo in kitchen stand off, justifiable self defense verdict".
I would never trust a jury of my peers in this city.
Too many bleeding hearts and vegans.
There was also charsiu (我鍾意好肥嘅), of which there is plenty left over.
She concentrated on the crab.
I think she had a good birthday.
In afterthought, Septimus should have been Septemembra or Septemartus. But I wasn't concentrating on what little remains of my high school Latin. I cannot remember what brachiures are called. They don't play a part in the Gallic wars or Suetonius.
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