Monday, March 07, 2022

THE "NEATNESS" NUT

When out for that first smoke of the day you grasp man's inhumanity to man. As represented by the evil dude who lightly placed a used mask over a pile of dog poo. When you try to move it to the curb with your shoe so that the street sweeping vehicle can dispose of it, you discover that doing so creates an unsightly situation. The fact is that it's bio-hazard squared.
Fortunately I didn't get any on my shoe, but I dodged a bullet there.

There was another identical mask on the pavement nearby.


Gee thanks, anonymous dog-owning psychopath.


One could assume, if one did not have coffee inside of one, that dog owners are a danger to the public. Just look at what they do with masks. But fortunately I did have my first cup already, and I am a calm equitably tempered man, so I bear the evil sumbitch no ill will.

What goes through their head?


"Oh that is so unsightly, let me put a doily (used face mask) over it so no one will have to look at it."


Twisted dang dingo. We need far more non-dog owning pipesmokers in this neighborhood to raise the mental health level and dramatically decrease the weirdness quotient. And it would have the added benefit that people carrying yoga mats would get far more exercise dodging the men with pipes as well! Like bicyclists, they think they own the road.
And joggers too! Jogger, bicyclists, dog owners, and yoga practitioners. Too many of them. All radiating a self-satisfied smugness. While wandering around civilized neighborhoods at the crack of dawn. "Look at us, we have virtue! And abundant healthitude! We put facemasks on piles of dog poo! Unique and creative!" Actually, it was probably just someone who hadn't had their morning coffee yet (because it might promote peristalsis), whose synapses weren't firing properly at that hour. And conceivably the type of person who straightens pictures in doctors' waiting rooms (they're seeking help for that). With which I can sympathize, to a certain extent. There's one picture at my cardiologist which is a minute fraction off-kilter, and one of the patient consultation rooms at the clinic has an illustration of a rose (next to the sign saying translators are on call) which has been irritating me for years, why hasn't anyone ever adjusted that, but it's too close to the computer and I don't want to get up and poke it lest at that precise moment the doctor comes in and it looks like I was trying to access the system.
A sane man worries about appearances.


Other than the facemask dog incident, today's early morning stroll with a pipe was extremely enjoyable. It starts getting light shortly after six now, and it was crisp, clear, and bright by the time I lit up. The smell of G.L.Pease's Embarcadero (red Virginia tobaccos with Izmir, pressed and sliced) in my briar was ethereal and induced contemplation, the caffeine in my veins had the synapses sparking full tilt, and there weren't too many people about.
A few dog owners, joggers, bicyclists, and yoga freaks.
No street loonies yet.



TOBACCO INDEX


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