One of the most peculiar styles of Chinese cuisine, from the viewpoint of most Westerners, is the selection of dishes offered by a "tea restaurant" (茶餐廳 'cha chaan teng'). Many of the ingredients are more familiar than "normal" Chinese food, yet presented in guises far less expected.
Plainly put, this ain't your mom's Chinese.
What it actually is, is quick easy comfort food, hearty and filling, for an audience that happily mixes and matches whatever is available, and wants lots for less. And they want it now. They're starving, please hurry!
Especially if the time they have to dawdle is limited.
Snacks, savoury or sweet.
Fast energy.
茶 ('CHA'): TEA. 餐 ('CHAAN'): A MEAL; TO DINE. 廳 ('TENG'): HALL, OFFICE, DEPARTMENT. 餐廳 ('CHAAN TENG'): DINING HALL, RESTAURANT.
Hong Kong tea restaurants began back in the thirties when entrepreneurs set up near construction sites, docks, and factories, and with more verve than actual skill invented a selection of food and drink that everyone could afford. Once dairy specialties and bakery offerings were added, the rocket took off.
Almost nothing could be more Hong Kong than the neighborhood joint where cheap sandwiches, pork chop over rice, spam, and sundry modern convenience foods are available from morning till almost midnight, all with a cup of strong bitter tea mixed with sweetened condensed milk.
You just want a cholesterol bomb and tea? Also can!
Tomato soup, French toast, plus tea? Will do!
Toasted pineapple bun and butter? Yep!
Iced lemon tea? We've got that too.
Tomato sauce, or Portugee.
Baked spaghetti!
Nothing fancy here, but we pride ourselves on getting you happy fast, and getting you on the road again. Or stuffing you silly for a low-low price, with stuff that you never cook at home, but not-so-secretly crave.
This is what reminds you of the place you came from.
You got familiar with it over several years.
And boy do you miss it.
Of course it's totally Hong Kong style, but I associate it primarily with Chinatown and the Richmond District, seeing as I live in San Francisco. Yeah, spam too. It's a queer vice -- we white folks are supposed to sneer at that humble substance -- but not something I'm embarrassed about.
SAMPLE CHA CHANTENG MENU
For your delectation, here's a list of offerings; most good cha chanteng in Hong Kong will have many of them. They're more limited overseas.
Although in San Francisco it seems far harder than it should to get a pineapple bun (so named because of the top crust) toasted, with a thick wedge of fresh creamery butter shoved in.
Or a hot buttered piggy bun.
Oil-sand toast.
茶餐廳菜單
Soup 湯類
羅宋湯 Russian borscht soup
西班牙番茄湯 Gazpacho
粟米忌廉湯 Sweet corn cream soup
紫菜牛丸湯 Seaweed beef ball soup
紫菜豆腐湯 Seaweed tofu soup
鮮蝦雲吞湯 Wonton soup
Toast 多士類
黃油多士 Buttered toast (油多)
港式)西多士 HK style French toast with butter and condensed milk
牛油果占多士 Toast with butter and jam (油占多士)
奶油厚多士 Condensed milk toast (奶油多)
奶醬厚多士 Condensed milk and peanut butter toast (奶醬多)
咖央西多士 Coconut jam French toast
菠蘿飽 Pineapple bun
菠蘿油 Toasted pineapple bun with butter
餐肉菠蘿包 Toasted pineapple bun with butter and luncheon meat
叉燒菠蘿包 Char-siu pork pineapple bun
油沙厚多士 Oil-sand toast; thick buttered toast with coarse sugar
奶油猪仔包 Crispy hot buttered piggy bun
[NOTES: The jam used in HK is strawberry (草莓酱 'chou mui jeung'). Coconut jam is called 'kaya' (咖央'gaa yeung'), that being the Malay and Indonesian name. The most common version of HK style French toast (港式西多士 'gong sik sai do si') consists of two thick slices of spongy bread glued together with peanut butter, dipped in barely sweetened beaten egg, fried in lots of butter on both sides, served with thick drizzles of sweetened condensed milk and golden syrup. And a pat of butter melting on top, for extra good. It's called 奶醬厚多士 ('naai jeung hau do si') or simply 奶醬多 ('naai jeung do'). Jeung (醬) refers to 花生醬 ('faa sang jeung'), which is peanut butter ("pinda kaas", "beurre d'arachide"). An upscale modern variant is the nutella toast (能多益西多士 'nang do yik sai do si'). Nutella in Chinese: 能多益巧克力醬 ('nang do yik jiu gu lik jeung', 能多益榛子果仁醬 ('nang do yik jeun ji gwo yan jeung').]
Sandwich 三文治
公司三文治 Club Sandwich
咸牛肉蛋三文治 Corned beef and egg sandwich
芝士火腿三文治 Grilled ham and cheese sandwich
火腿蛋三文治 Ham and egg sandwich
午餐肉三文治 Grilled Spam sandwich.
芝士午餐肉三文治 Grilled Spam and cheese sandwich
午餐肉蛋三文治 Spam and egg sandwich
烟肉生菜蕃茄三文治 Bacon lettuce and tomato sandwich
吞拿魚三文治 Tuna sandwich
Baked Rice/Spaghetti 焗飯/意粉
焗火腿芝士意粉 Baked ham & cheese spaghetti with cream sauce
焗牛肉片飯 Baked beef rice with tomato sauce
煎蛋焗豬扒飯 Baked pork chop rice and a fried egg
焗葡汁/茄汁雞飯 Baked chicken rice with Portuguese sauce or tomato sauce
焗肉醬意粉 Baked spaghetti with carbonara sauce
焗葡汁/茄汁牛脷飯 Baked ox-tongue rice with Portuguese sauce or tomato sauce
焗腸仔肉醬意粉 Baked spaghetti and sausages with carbonara sauce
焗葡汁/白汁石班飯 Baked cod rice with Portuguese sauce or cream sauce
焗茄汁鴛鴦扒飯 Baked pork chop rice and chicken rice with tomato sauce
焗白汁雙魚飯 Baked salmon and cod rice with cream sauce
焗白汁三文魚飯 Baked salmon rice with cream sauce
焗白汁帶子蝦飯 Baked scallops and shrimp rice with cream sauce
焗白汁海鮮飯 Baked seafood rice with cream sauce
Curry Rice/Spaghetti 咖哩類飯/意粉
咖哩雞球 Curry chicken
咖哩牛肉 Curry beef
咖哩牛腩 Curry beef brisket
咖哩豬扒 Curry pork chop
咖哩石班 Curry fish
咖哩牛脷 Curry ox-tongue
咖哩海鮮 Curry seafood
Congee (rice porridge) 粥類
鯪魚球生菜粥 Dace and vegetable congee
海鮮粥 Seafood congee
牛肉粥 Beef congee
雞粥 Chicken congee
免治牛肉粥 Ground beef congee
[Same as: 碎牛粥 Minced beef congee.]
魚片粥 Fish congee
皮蛋瘦肉粥 Pork and preserved egg congee
蝦球粥 Shrimp congee
柴魚花生粥 Dried fish and fried peanuts congee
火鴨粥 Roast duck congee
爽滑肉丸粥 Pork meatball congee
猪肝粥 Pork liver rice porridge
碎牛粥 sui ngau juk: rice porridge with minced beef
艇仔粥 Sampan congee (with squid, crackling, ground meat, peanuts, crisp noodly bits)
香菇肉鬆粥 Black mushroom and pork floss congee
魚片粥 yu pin juk: fish curls congee
鮑魚滑雞粥 Abalone and chicken congee
白粥 Plain congee
油條 Chinese doughnut (fried dough stick)
Noodle soup (rice noodles or thin mein) 湯麵類河粉/米粉
海鮮湯麵 Seafood noodle soup
魚蛋湯麵 Fish ball noodle soup
牛丸湯麵 Beef ball noodle soup
牛腩湯麵 Beef brisket noodle soup
牛筋湯麵 Beef tendon noodle soup
雙丸湯麵 Beef and fish ball noodle soup
炸菜肉絲湯米 Pork shreds and pickled vegetables rice noodle soup
沙茶牛肉湯麵 Satay sauce beef noodle soup
鮮蝦雲吞湯麵 Fresh shrimp wonton noodle soup
炸鯪魚球湯麵 Fish curls noodle soup
蝦球湯麵 Shrimp noodle soup
車仔麵 Assorted noodle soup
三文魚湯麵 Salmon noodle soup
Side dishes 菜類
蠔油芥蘭 Chinese broccoli in Oyster Sauce
蠔油西生菜 Lettuce with oyster sauce
腐乳西生菜 Lettuce with soy curd sauce
腩汁西生菜 Lettuce with beef brisket sauce
釀豆腐 Deep fried minced shrimp stuffed tofu
釀茄子 Deep fried minced shrimp stuffed eggplant
羅漢齋 Lo Han vegetables
Instant noodle or macaroni in soup 公仔麵/通粉類
雞絲公仔麵/通粉類 Chicken instant noodle or macaroni
腸仔蛋公仔麵/通粉類 Sausage and fried egg instant noodle or macaroni
火腿蛋公仔麵/通粉類 Ham and fried egg instant noodle or macaroni
蝦球公仔麵/通粉類 Instant noodle or macaroni
午餐肉蛋公仔麵/通粉類粉 Spam and fried egg instant noodle or macaroni
蝦球公仔麵/通粉類 Shrimp and instant noodle or macaroni
沙爹牛肉或雞肉公仔麵/通粉類 Satay sauce beef or chicken instant noodle or macaroni
Lo mein 撈麵
咖哩牛腩撈麵 Curry beef brisket lo mein
雲吞撈麵 Wonton lo mein
蝦球撈麵 Shrimp lo mein
牛腩撈麵 Beef Brisket lo mein
薑蔥撈麵 Green onion and ginger lo mein
Rice or spaghetti plates 飯類/意粉
煎蛋免治牛肉飯 Minced beef and fried egg over rice or spaghetti
柱候牛腩飯 Beef brisket over rice or spaghetti
餐肉蛋飯 Spam and egg over rice or spaghetti
干煎洋蔥豬扒或雞扒)飯 Fried pork chop or chicken cutlet over rice
粟米雞絲或石斑飯 Chicken or cod with corn sauce over rice
鮮蘑菇雞扒飯 Chicken cutlet with mushrooms over rice
鮮茄魚片或牛肉湯飯 Tomato soup rice with cod or beef
吉烈豬扒或石斑飯 Pork chop or cod fillet over rice
蕃茄豬扒意粉 Pork chop with tomato sauce over spaghetti
枝竹羊腩飯 Lamb Stew over rice
西蘭花牛肉飯 Broccoli beef over rice
鮮茄牛肉飯 Tomato beef over rice
豉汁排骨飯 Black bean spareribs over rice
芥蘭牛肉飯 Chinese broccoli beef over rice
菜遠斑片飯 Cod with bokchoi over rice
滑蛋牛肉或蝦球飯 Scrambled egg with beef or shrimp over rice
海南雞飯 Hai Nan chicken rice
凉瓜牛肉飯 Bitter melon beef over rice
凉瓜排骨飯 Bitter melon spareribs over rice
時菜牛肉飯 Vegetable beef over rice
蝦炒蛋飯 Shrimp scrambled egg over rice
Fried Rice 炒飯
菠蘿蝦炒飯 Pineapple shrimp fried rice
生炒雞絲飯 Chicken fried rice
生炒牛肉飯 Beef fried rice
招牌炒飯 House fried rice
粟米火腿蛋炒飯 Ham, egg and corn fried rice
咖哩牛肉炒飯 Curry beef fried rice
鄉下佬炒飯 Farmer's fried rice
楊洲炒飯 Yang Chow fried rice
咸魚雞粒炒飯 Salt fish and chicken fried rice
海鮮炒飯 Seafood fried rice
福建炒飯 Fukien fried rice
鴛鴦炒飯 Two flavour fried rice
瑤柱蛋白海鮮炒飯 Seafood fried rice with dried scallop and egg white
Pan Fried Noodle 煎麵類
菜遠斑球煎麵 Fish and vegetable pan fried noodle
菜遠牛腩煎麵 Beef brisket and vegetable pan fried noodle
鮮茄牛肉煎麵 Tomato beef pan fried noodle
沙茶牛肉煎麵 Satay beef pan fried noodle
豉汁排骨煎麵 Spare ribs black bean pan fried noodle
黑椒牛肉煎麵 Beef with black pepper sauce pan fried noodle
銀芽肉絲煎麵 Pork with bean sprouts pan fried noodle
海鮮煎麵 Seafood pan fried noodle
Yi fu noodle 伊麵類
牛腩燴伊麵 Beef brisket yi fu noodle
干燒肉絲炆伊麵 Braised yi fu noodle with meat shreds.
褔建燴伊麵 Fukien yi fu noodle
海鮮燴伊麵 Seafood yi fu noodle
蟹肉干燒伊麵 Braised yi fu noodle with crab meat
Chow Mein 炒粉麵類
干炒牛河 Beef chow fun
沙嗲牛肉濕炒河 Satay beef chow fun
豉汁排骨濕炒河 Spare ribs with black bean sauce chow fun
滑蛋蝦濕炒河 Scrambled egg with shrimp chow fun
豉汁牛肉濕炒河 Beef with black bean sauce chow fun
星洲炒米粉 Singapore fried rice noodle
鯪魚鬆炒米粉 Dace Fish fried rice noodle
牛肉炒公仔麵 Beef fried instant noodle
火腿蛋炒公仔麵 Ham and egg fried instant noodle
廈門炒米 Amoy fried vermicelli
Fried Spaghetti 炒意粉
鮮茄牛肉或石斑炒意粉 Beef or cod fried spaghetti with tomato sauce
黑椒牛肉或雞肉炒意粉 Beef or chicken fried spaghetti with black pepper sauce
干炒海鮮意粉 Seafood fried spaghetti
鮮茄海鮮炒意粉 Seafood fried spaghetti with tomato sauce
鐵板黑椒牛肉炒意粉 Iron plate beef fried spaghetti with black pepper sauce
鐵板咖哩牛腩燴意粉 Iron plate curry beef brisket with spaghetti
鐵板大千海鮮意粉 Iron plate seafood spaghetti
鐵板黑椒牛仔骨意粉 Iron plate spareribs spaghetti with black pepper sauce
Refined specialties 精美小菜
大地魚炒芥蘭 Stir-fried Chinese broccoli with dried fish flavour
蒜茸炒芥蘭 Stir-fried Chinese broccoli with garlic flavour
紅燒豆腐 Red-braised tofu with black mushrooms and fresh vegetables
牛肉炒唐芥蘭 Chinese broccoli and beef
鯪魚鬆炒時菜 Stir-fried seasonal vegetable with fish shreds
蔥油黃毛雞 Ginger and scallion chicken
薑蔥爆牛肉Ginger and scallion beef
薑蔥爆牛俐Ginger and scallion ox tongue
沙茶滑豆腐牛肉 Beef and tofu in satay sauce
蒙古牛肉 Mongolian beef
梅菜斑球 Preserved vegetable and cod
炸菜牛崧豆腐 Preserved vegetable with beef and tofu
麻婆豆腐 Ma-Po tofu
宮保雞 Kung pao chicken
魚香茄子煲 Fish-flavour eggplant
蒜子斑球豆腐煲 Garlic cod and tofu in casserole
八珍豆腐煲 Eight treasure tofu in casserole
咖哩海鮮煲 Curry seafood in casserole
生菜牛尾煲 Ox tail and lettuce in casserole
瑤柱蛋白扒龍利 Fish fillet with eggwhite and dried scallops
避風塘炒蟹 Typhoon shelter crab
Sets 套餐
營養餐 Healthy set meal
常餐 Regular set meal
快餐 Fast set meal
海鮮餐 Seafood set meal
特餐 Special set meal
[NOTE: A set usually consists of a beverage, an egg dish, a main or over-rice. The regular set often is a small omelette, something meat plus vegetables, rice or spaghetti, and a cup of hot milk-tea (奶茶 'naai cha') or coffee-tea mixture (鴛鴦 'yuen yeung').]
Beverages 飲品
港式奶茶 Milk tea Hong Kong style
鴛鴦 Mixed coffee and tea with condensed milk
凍檸茶(檸檬紅茶) Lemon tea
檸樂 Cocacola with lemon
檸檬蜜糖 Lemon honey beverage
阿華田 Ovaltine
朱古力 Chocolate
好立克 Horlicks
生薑蜜 Ginger honey beverage
荔枝冰 Lychee juice with crushed ice
涼粉冰 Grass jelly with crushed ice
紅豆冰 Red bean with crushed ice
什果冰 Mixed fruit with crushed ice
珍珠奶茶 Milk tea with tapioca pearls.
椰林珍珠冰 Coconut milk tapioca pearl crushed ice
椰林珍珠紅豆冰 Coconut red bean tapioca pearl crushed ice
橙汁 Orange juice
汽水 Soft drinks
[NOTES: You may have to specify whether you want your beverage hot (热；热嘅 'yit'; 'yit ge') or cold (凍；凍嘅 'tung'; 'tung-ge'). I always have my milk tea hot, but if you are younger than me and female, it will most likely be taken for granted that you want it cold, and probably with tapioca pearls (珍珠 'jan jiu', 波霸 'bo baa'). Tapioca pearl milk tea is usually called 波霸奶茶 ('bo baa naai cha'), and some variants shockingly contain no tea. Yuen-yeung (鴛鴦) is also frequently cold (凍鴛鴦) and pearly (波霸鴛鴦). Red beans ("adzuki"; 紅豆 'hung dau') are used in sweets and desserts. 冰('bing') is ice, often crushed.]
Dessert 甜品
芒果布甸 Mango pudding
香蕉班戟 Banana crêpe
雪糕班戟 Icecream crêpe
朱古力煉奶班戟 Chocolate and condensed milk drizzled crêpe
香蕉船 Banana boat
雲尼拿雪糕 Vanilla icecream
Always wait till the server has brought you a cup of weak regular tea before asking for gong-sik naai cha, because while plain hot tea is automatic in Hong Kong in almost all types of eateries, here in America restaurants realize that many people prefer ice water for some goofy reason. White folks probably will look askance at the strong milk tea, and young Chinese Americans will ask for a chilled dairy beverage with enormous gummy tapioca balls instead.
Immature people will be disturbed by the menu in any case.
Especially if they came from the Midwest.
Or were born in suburbistan.
慢慢快快食，呀。
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, May 19, 2014
Sunday, May 18, 2014
STUPID AMERICANS: OPERATION AMERICAN SPRING
Well golly! Apparently millions upon millions of patriotic Americans marched on Washington this weekend to drive out President Obama, Vice President Joe Biden, Speaker John Boehner, Attorney General Eric Holder, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, and House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi.
They thronged unstoppable, they were a force to be reckoned with!
Except that they couldn't be bothered. Those concerned citizens, millions of them, that is. You see, it was raining. And they were romancing Cliven Bundy's cattle. Or dodging the drones and black helicopters. Or sitting in front of the tv snarfing pizza while watching baseball. Maybe they forgot.
The good pair of jeans was in the wash.
The pick-up truck had a flat tire.
Couldn't find an umbrella.
Lost the calendar.
Hangovers.
Pussy.
I didn't find out about the whole shmeggeg-o-rama till today. Over two days AFTER it did not happen. And boy am I pissed. I missed out on the live action, the excitement, the cumulative esprit-de-corpses, the whole big ball of earwax!
Dang!
First indication that something took place:Operation American Spring falls flat: ‘This is very disappointing,’ Texan says
Oh crap! They found a talking Texan!
Then there's this lovely video of tens of millions of Americans not actually present at any time on Friday:
WHERE ARE YOU AT?!?
[Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84qfizTSs40#t=28. Credit to teanuts for implying that millions (upon millions) are there karmically.]
According to a disturbed website which shows that some computer programmers will work for darn-well anyone, no questions asked, no conscience burdened:
[Begin cite]
'Harry Riley, COL, Ret. is calling upon millions of patriots to march upon Washington D.C. to remove Obama, Biden, Reid, McConnell, Boehner, Pelosi, and Attorney General Holder from Office.
He has termed it “OPERATION AMERICAN SPRING – Beginning Of Tyranny Housecleaning” and it’s due to commence May 16, 2014.
There are 3 primary phases to the plan:
Phase 1 – Field millions, as many as ten million, patriots to assemble in a peaceful, non-violent, physically unarmed
Phase 2 – At least one million of the assembled 10 million to stay in D.C. as long as it takes to see Obama, Biden, Reid, McConnell, Boehner, Pelosi, and Attorney General Holder removed from office.
Phase 3 – Politicians with the principles of a West; Cruz, Dr. Ben Carson, Lee, DeMint, Paul, Gov Walker, Sessions, Gowdy, Jordan, to comprise a tribunal to convene investigations and recommend appropriate charges against politicians and government employees who have violated the Constitution.'
[End cite]
[Source: http://www.truthandaction.org/operation-american-spring-ret-colonel-creates-march-washington-may-16-2014/, Truth & Action]
There are many other websites quite as unrealistic and optimistic.
Proof, more than anything, of the American Dream.
In all its prismatic glory.
Yah shurr, folks, darn tootin'.
"A duck cannot be turned into a fox; an elephant cannot be turned into a flea; the laws of nature will not permit."
The whole thing originated several months ago at 'Patriots For America', and gained adherents at ever increasing breakneck speed since that time. Judging by the internet chatter (which again, I was totally unaware of till today), it struck a chord, and people were outraged.
Something was palpable!
They would march!
I'm actually rather upset about this. And seething with resentful envy. Quiveringly jealous, almost. The batshit crazy fringe gets MILLIONS of readers, moves hearts and minds to passion, whereas my blog has to scrape by on slightly over eight hundred visitors a day.
My batshit crazy is FAR better than theirs!
I should have the rabid following!
What's wrong with the world?
Stupid Americans!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
They thronged unstoppable, they were a force to be reckoned with!
Except that they couldn't be bothered. Those concerned citizens, millions of them, that is. You see, it was raining. And they were romancing Cliven Bundy's cattle. Or dodging the drones and black helicopters. Or sitting in front of the tv snarfing pizza while watching baseball. Maybe they forgot.
The good pair of jeans was in the wash.
The pick-up truck had a flat tire.
Couldn't find an umbrella.
Lost the calendar.
Hangovers.
Pussy.
I didn't find out about the whole shmeggeg-o-rama till today. Over two days AFTER it did not happen. And boy am I pissed. I missed out on the live action, the excitement, the cumulative esprit-de-corpses, the whole big ball of earwax!
Dang!
First indication that something took place:Operation American Spring falls flat: ‘This is very disappointing,’ Texan says
Oh crap! They found a talking Texan!
Then there's this lovely video of tens of millions of Americans not actually present at any time on Friday:
WHERE ARE YOU AT?!?
[Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84qfizTSs40#t=28. Credit to teanuts for implying that millions (upon millions) are there karmically.]
According to a disturbed website which shows that some computer programmers will work for darn-well anyone, no questions asked, no conscience burdened:
[Begin cite]
'Harry Riley, COL, Ret. is calling upon millions of patriots to march upon Washington D.C. to remove Obama, Biden, Reid, McConnell, Boehner, Pelosi, and Attorney General Holder from Office.
He has termed it “OPERATION AMERICAN SPRING – Beginning Of Tyranny Housecleaning” and it’s due to commence May 16, 2014.
There are 3 primary phases to the plan:
Phase 1 – Field millions, as many as ten million, patriots to assemble in a peaceful, non-violent, physically unarmed
Phase 2 – At least one million of the assembled 10 million to stay in D.C. as long as it takes to see Obama, Biden, Reid, McConnell, Boehner, Pelosi, and Attorney General Holder removed from office.
Phase 3 – Politicians with the principles of a West; Cruz, Dr. Ben Carson, Lee, DeMint, Paul, Gov Walker, Sessions, Gowdy, Jordan, to comprise a tribunal to convene investigations and recommend appropriate charges against politicians and government employees who have violated the Constitution.'
[End cite]
[Source: http://www.truthandaction.org/operation-american-spring-ret-colonel-creates-march-washington-may-16-2014/, Truth & Action]
There are many other websites quite as unrealistic and optimistic.
Proof, more than anything, of the American Dream.
In all its prismatic glory.
Yah shurr, folks, darn tootin'.
"A duck cannot be turned into a fox; an elephant cannot be turned into a flea; the laws of nature will not permit."
The whole thing originated several months ago at 'Patriots For America', and gained adherents at ever increasing breakneck speed since that time. Judging by the internet chatter (which again, I was totally unaware of till today), it struck a chord, and people were outraged.
Something was palpable!
They would march!
I'm actually rather upset about this. And seething with resentful envy. Quiveringly jealous, almost. The batshit crazy fringe gets MILLIONS of readers, moves hearts and minds to passion, whereas my blog has to scrape by on slightly over eight hundred visitors a day.
My batshit crazy is FAR better than theirs!
I should have the rabid following!
What's wrong with the world?
Stupid Americans!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
JOY TO OUR ROTUND FRIENDS
In addition to all the celebrations that, as a single man, and not really exceptionally social, I am forced to ignore or just pretend don't happen, there's one other holiday I just found out about that I totally missed.
World Penguin Day.
Oh crap!
That sounds like a festive event I dearly would have liked getting invited to, and I am both hurt and resentful that no one called me. I hate being excluded, and I'm sure that there was lots of herring.
You folks just live to torment me.
All that herring!
Selfish cretins! You ate all of it yourselves.
You and your little penguin buddies.
Just look at them. They're wondering "where's the disco ball? How can ANYONE have a party without a disco ball?"
You guys forgot all about the disco ball, didn't you?
I would have brought the disco ball.
You should have invited me.
World Penguin Day happens on the 25th. of April. I was wondering why everyone seemed so happy, but nobody gave me a clue. They probably thought that, being a single man and not very social, I would not attend even if invited, and if I had come I'd end up sitting in the corner with a glass of whiskey glowering at everyone else gaily frolicking.
Maybe so, but you could've told me.
Don't just assume.
Herring!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
World Penguin Day.
Oh crap!
That sounds like a festive event I dearly would have liked getting invited to, and I am both hurt and resentful that no one called me. I hate being excluded, and I'm sure that there was lots of herring.
You folks just live to torment me.
All that herring!
Selfish cretins! You ate all of it yourselves.
You and your little penguin buddies.
You guys forgot all about the disco ball, didn't you?
I would have brought the disco ball.
You should have invited me.
World Penguin Day happens on the 25th. of April. I was wondering why everyone seemed so happy, but nobody gave me a clue. They probably thought that, being a single man and not very social, I would not attend even if invited, and if I had come I'd end up sitting in the corner with a glass of whiskey glowering at everyone else gaily frolicking.
Maybe so, but you could've told me.
Don't just assume.
Herring!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Saturday, May 17, 2014
A POX UPON THAT DECADE
Thanks to an episode of Bob's Burgers (a truly educational television series), I have found out about someone so completely and insanely self-absorbed and messed-up that none of us can compete. He's perfect in his loathsomeness, we are just midgets in comparison.
Dang he's one sick puppy.
STEVEN TYLER
In 1970, this man embarked upon a musical career as the lead throat of Aerosmith, a band that I knew existed but to whose music I have never consciously listened. All in all, the seventies were one miserable music scene after another, peaking with the vileness that became the eighties.
That's two decades of loathsomeness that I am glad are behind us.
From the era of Nixon to the narrishkeit that was Reagan.
Truly two decades of cultural mayhem.
And Steven Tyler.
But its not Steven Tyler's music that catches my attention.
It's his swine-like personal life.
Quote:
"In 1975, Tyler persuaded the parents of 16 year old groupie Julia Holcomb (sometimes spelled Holcolm) to sign over guardianship to him so that he could live with her in Boston. They dated and did drugs together for three years. Holcomb was referred to as "Diana Hall" by the editor of the Aerosmith autobiography Walk This Way in an attempt to conceal her identity, but other sources have confirmed her identity. Pressures leading to their split included both their age difference (Tyler was 27 when they first met), a house fire, and a pregnancy that resulted in an abortion."
End quote.
Got that? He seduced a minor, and plied her with drugs. Yes, she was probably thrilled to participate, but that is neither here nor there.
Minor, drugs, and idiot parental units.
Followed by an abortion.
Predictably.
Quote:
"Band member Ray Tabano wrote in Walk This Way that the abortion "really messed Steven up" because the child was a boy. Tyler wrote, "It was a big crisis. It's a major thing when you're growing something with a woman, but they convinced us that it would never work out and would ruin our lives. You go to the doctor and they put the needle in her belly and they squeeze the stuff in and you watch. And it comes out dead. I was pretty devastated. In my mind, I'm going, Jesus, what have I done?" However, Julia Holcomb has said that Tyler was snorting cocaine while watching the abortion and offered some to her."
End quote.
Really messed Steven up? I would offer that Steven was already messed up way before that, and the focus on his feelings and his foetus shows remarkably little concern for the girl, far too much concern with a drug-snorting egomaniac. That it was a boy is immaterial, btw.
She deserves our empathy.
He doesn't.
Quote:
"Julia Holcomb revealed her regret for having the abortion, joined the Silent No More organization of women who have regretted their abortions, and converted to Catholicism."
End quote.
Perhaps she unmessed up herself. One certainly hopes so.
Catholicism is pretty dang messed up too.
But she's well rid of that prick.
Quote:
"Tyler had a brief relationship with fashion model Bebe Buell, during which he fathered actress Liv Tyler, born in 1977. Buell initially claimed that the father was Todd Rundgren to protect her daughter from Tyler's drug addiction. Through Liv's marriage to British musician Royston Langdon, Tyler has one grandchild."
End quote.
Another messed-up relationship, and more drugs. Such a model human being. Both of them. Who the hell is Todd Rundgren?
Quote:
"In 1978, he married Cyrinda Foxe, an ex-Warhol model, and the former wife of New York Dolls' lead singer David Johansen, and fathered model Mia Tyler. He and Foxe divorced in 1987; in 1997, she published Dream On: Livin' on the Edge With Steven Tyler and Aerosmith, a memoir of her life with Tyler. Foxe died from brain cancer in 2002."
"On May 28, 1988, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Tyler married his second wife, clothing designer Teresa Barrick. With Barrick, he fathered a daughter, Chelsea Anna Tallarico (born March 6, 1989), and a son, Taj Monroe Tallarico (born January 31, 1991). In February 2005, the couple announced that they were separating due to personal problems."
End quote.
Yet more up-messing. One can't help wonder if it was the egocentric narcissism or the drugs.
Quote:
"In January 2006 the divorce was official. Tyler had been in a relationship with Erin Brady since 2006. He became engaged to Brady in December 2011. In January 2013, Tyler and Brady broke off their engagement."
End quote.
Groupies, drugs, and a complete absence of condoms, common sense, and seemingly any ability to form decent relationships. Truly an exceptional individual, and an example for the rest of us.
Permit me to make a gagging sound.
"...the fast-paced life of touring, recording, living together, and using drugs began to take its toll on the band"
I had forgotten what a repulsive era that was, and how much seriously reprehensible sh*t came out of it. Heck, I spent the eighties and nineties putting the seventies and everything it represented out of my head.
Most bands from the seventies were vile. Either as musicians, or as individuals. Aerosmith was no different.
In all fairness, I have no clue which bands dominate today's music scene. All I know is that they don't represent me either.
It's been mostly crap since the Beatles.
I don't go to clubs.
[All material cited above from Wikipedia.]
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Dang he's one sick puppy.
STEVEN TYLER
In 1970, this man embarked upon a musical career as the lead throat of Aerosmith, a band that I knew existed but to whose music I have never consciously listened. All in all, the seventies were one miserable music scene after another, peaking with the vileness that became the eighties.
That's two decades of loathsomeness that I am glad are behind us.
From the era of Nixon to the narrishkeit that was Reagan.
Truly two decades of cultural mayhem.
And Steven Tyler.
But its not Steven Tyler's music that catches my attention.
It's his swine-like personal life.
Quote:
"In 1975, Tyler persuaded the parents of 16 year old groupie Julia Holcomb (sometimes spelled Holcolm) to sign over guardianship to him so that he could live with her in Boston. They dated and did drugs together for three years. Holcomb was referred to as "Diana Hall" by the editor of the Aerosmith autobiography Walk This Way in an attempt to conceal her identity, but other sources have confirmed her identity. Pressures leading to their split included both their age difference (Tyler was 27 when they first met), a house fire, and a pregnancy that resulted in an abortion."
End quote.
Got that? He seduced a minor, and plied her with drugs. Yes, she was probably thrilled to participate, but that is neither here nor there.
Minor, drugs, and idiot parental units.
Followed by an abortion.
Predictably.
Quote:
"Band member Ray Tabano wrote in Walk This Way that the abortion "really messed Steven up" because the child was a boy. Tyler wrote, "It was a big crisis. It's a major thing when you're growing something with a woman, but they convinced us that it would never work out and would ruin our lives. You go to the doctor and they put the needle in her belly and they squeeze the stuff in and you watch. And it comes out dead. I was pretty devastated. In my mind, I'm going, Jesus, what have I done?" However, Julia Holcomb has said that Tyler was snorting cocaine while watching the abortion and offered some to her."
End quote.
Really messed Steven up? I would offer that Steven was already messed up way before that, and the focus on his feelings and his foetus shows remarkably little concern for the girl, far too much concern with a drug-snorting egomaniac. That it was a boy is immaterial, btw.
She deserves our empathy.
He doesn't.
Quote:
"Julia Holcomb revealed her regret for having the abortion, joined the Silent No More organization of women who have regretted their abortions, and converted to Catholicism."
End quote.
Perhaps she unmessed up herself. One certainly hopes so.
Catholicism is pretty dang messed up too.
But she's well rid of that prick.
Quote:
"Tyler had a brief relationship with fashion model Bebe Buell, during which he fathered actress Liv Tyler, born in 1977. Buell initially claimed that the father was Todd Rundgren to protect her daughter from Tyler's drug addiction. Through Liv's marriage to British musician Royston Langdon, Tyler has one grandchild."
End quote.
Another messed-up relationship, and more drugs. Such a model human being. Both of them. Who the hell is Todd Rundgren?
Quote:
"In 1978, he married Cyrinda Foxe, an ex-Warhol model, and the former wife of New York Dolls' lead singer David Johansen, and fathered model Mia Tyler. He and Foxe divorced in 1987; in 1997, she published Dream On: Livin' on the Edge With Steven Tyler and Aerosmith, a memoir of her life with Tyler. Foxe died from brain cancer in 2002."
"On May 28, 1988, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Tyler married his second wife, clothing designer Teresa Barrick. With Barrick, he fathered a daughter, Chelsea Anna Tallarico (born March 6, 1989), and a son, Taj Monroe Tallarico (born January 31, 1991). In February 2005, the couple announced that they were separating due to personal problems."
End quote.
Yet more up-messing. One can't help wonder if it was the egocentric narcissism or the drugs.
Quote:
"In January 2006 the divorce was official. Tyler had been in a relationship with Erin Brady since 2006. He became engaged to Brady in December 2011. In January 2013, Tyler and Brady broke off their engagement."
End quote.
Groupies, drugs, and a complete absence of condoms, common sense, and seemingly any ability to form decent relationships. Truly an exceptional individual, and an example for the rest of us.
Permit me to make a gagging sound.
"...the fast-paced life of touring, recording, living together, and using drugs began to take its toll on the band"
I had forgotten what a repulsive era that was, and how much seriously reprehensible sh*t came out of it. Heck, I spent the eighties and nineties putting the seventies and everything it represented out of my head.
Most bands from the seventies were vile. Either as musicians, or as individuals. Aerosmith was no different.
In all fairness, I have no clue which bands dominate today's music scene. All I know is that they don't represent me either.
It's been mostly crap since the Beatles.
I don't go to clubs.
[All material cited above from Wikipedia.]
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Friday, May 16, 2014
VIETNAMESE RAMPAGE, ASSAULT CHINESE, DISCOURAGE FOREIGN INVESTMENT
It appears that the Vietnamese are no better than other South-East Asians when it comes to vicious tendencies. One would not expect otherwise. But when rioting turns violent and deadly in a society which is rigidly controlled, there can be no clearer indication of approval from the rulers. Vietnam's communist party was founded on xenophobia, and has steadfastly maintained the tradition. Vietnamese hatred of foreigners has a long history, dating back to the imperial despotisms and warlords of the pre-colonial age.
The only thing that has changed is that in this more literate and well-organized age, keeping lists and targeting victims is much easier.
From the South China Morning post:
‘They beat up every Chinese they found’
Excerpt:
"Hundreds of Chinese were today fleeing Vietnam ahead of expected large-scale anti-China demonstrations planned for the weekend, following the deaths of at least two during riots."
Excerpt:
"At least two Chinese have died, and around 90 been injured during the riots, in which Vietnamese protesters attacked Chinese businesses and torched factories over Beijing’s establishment of an oil rig in the disputed Paracel Islands weeks ago."
[Source: http://www.scmp.com/news/china/article/1513401/they-beat-every-chinese-they-found-masses-continue-flee-vietnam-violence, 南華早報, MAY 16, 2014.]
The riots have been going on for several days now, and the Vietnamese government still hasn't called a halt to the bloodlust.
Per The Guardian:
Anti-China riots turn deadly in Vietnam
Reports of 20 or more killed as Beijing's expansionism in South China Sea provoke continued violent backlash in Vietnam
Excerpt:
"Violent reaction in Vietnam to China's expansionist stance in disputed seas has turned deadly with reports that 20 or more people have been killed during rioting that began with attacks on foreign-owned factories."
Excerpt:
"A doctor at a hospital in the central Vietnamese province of Ha Tinh said five Vietnamese workers and 16 other people described as Chinese died during anti-China rioting on Wednesday night."
"There were about a hundred people sent to the hospital last night. Many were Chinese. More are being sent to the hospital this morning," the doctor told the Reuters news agency by phone."
Excerpt:
"Earlier this week mobs burned and looted scores of foreign-owned factories in southern Vietnam, believing they were Chinese-run when many were actually Taiwanese or South Korean."
[Source: http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/may/15/anti-china-riots-turn-deadly-in-vietnam. theguardian.com May 15, 2014.]
Given that the regime in Vietnam has had only ONE major success since the Paris Peace Accord in 1973 (unless you count their brutal expulsion of nearly a million ethnic Chinese during the late seventies and early eighties as an achievement), it is only natural that scapegoatism is spreading like wildfire. Many other countries in the region have made spectacular advances in the past generation, but Vietnam still presents a picture of timeless underdevelopment.
Where, apparently, savagery lurks barely beneath the surface.
The New York Times hints that there may be wider ripples than just the typical Viet ethnic hatred:
China Targeted by Vietnamese in Fiery Riots
Excerpt:
"On Tuesday and Wednesday, the center of those conflicts was the factories in the gritty industrial suburbs north of Ho Chi Minh City, where thousands of poor Vietnamese stitch name-brand sneakers and clothing for sale around the world. "
Note: Most of those products are destined for the well-to-do consumers of Europe and North America. Your feet have a hand in this.
Excerpt:
"Early Thursday, Nguyen Van Thong, a worker at an electronics plant he said was American-owned, said his fellow workers had been “angry over China’s invasion” when they began driving motorbikes through the streets, lobbing gasoline-soaked rags into buildings. His electronics factory was spared, he said, only when guards trying to fend off an angry crowd pointed to the Vietnamese and American flags flying overhead."
Note: Coloured rags may not save employers much longer, when the rioting masses realize that such banners are a convenient protective tactic. Surely in Vietnam, a few Vietnamese flags are easily acquired, and far cheaper than fire insurance?
Excerpt:
"The marauding crowds appeared to take their greatest toll on Taiwanese and South Korean factories. The few workers and guards who remained in the streets, where the acrid odor of burned plastic lingered early Thursday, said they assumed rioters were at first confused about the factories’ ownership, then got caught up in indiscriminate looting that rippled out from the show of anger at China."
"At one Taiwanese factory that had tried to ward off attack, a banner outside the ruined building read “No Chinese working here.” And in a stretch of the Vietnam Singapore industrial park, which includes investors from many countries, companies that hung signs in Chinese were destroyed or damaged, while nearby plants flying flags of other countries were mainly untouched."
Clearly Vietnamese petulance is motivated by bigotry and racism, rather than a well-considered perception of grievances and international politics.
Most disturbing, however, is the possibility that primitive sentiments may also become inflamed elsewhere:
"The explosion of violence reflected growing animosity in the region as China works to solidify its claims over vast parts of two seas that other nations have long considered their own."
"On Wednesday, the conflict played out not only in Vietnam, but also in the Philippines, which said it lodged a formal protest with China over signs that it is reclaiming land at a contested coral reef. "
[Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/15/world/asia/foreign-factories-in-vietnam-weigh-damage-in-anti-china-riots.html?hpw&rref=world&_r=0. NYT, MAY 14, 2014.]
It would not be irrational to fear similar outbursts eventually in Manila.
Anti-Chinese sentiment has always flourished in the Philippines, albeit largely underneath a smiling Filipino mask. Many if not most of the educated classes in the islands have blood kin in Fujian province, and every Philippino politician has connections among the entrepreneurs who built the Philippine economy.
Where-ever you look, there are potential targets.
As well as fuel for fondly imagined grievance.
There's a well-established tradition of lynching ethnic Chinese in much of South-East Asia. But the Chinese are much stronger now, and can make things rather unpleasant for countries that would fall back on past cultural practices.
Atavism may not be a wise choice.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
The only thing that has changed is that in this more literate and well-organized age, keeping lists and targeting victims is much easier.
From the South China Morning post:
‘They beat up every Chinese they found’
Excerpt:
"Hundreds of Chinese were today fleeing Vietnam ahead of expected large-scale anti-China demonstrations planned for the weekend, following the deaths of at least two during riots."
Excerpt:
"At least two Chinese have died, and around 90 been injured during the riots, in which Vietnamese protesters attacked Chinese businesses and torched factories over Beijing’s establishment of an oil rig in the disputed Paracel Islands weeks ago."
[Source: http://www.scmp.com/news/china/article/1513401/they-beat-every-chinese-they-found-masses-continue-flee-vietnam-violence, 南華早報, MAY 16, 2014.]
The riots have been going on for several days now, and the Vietnamese government still hasn't called a halt to the bloodlust.
Per The Guardian:
Anti-China riots turn deadly in Vietnam
Reports of 20 or more killed as Beijing's expansionism in South China Sea provoke continued violent backlash in Vietnam
Excerpt:
"Violent reaction in Vietnam to China's expansionist stance in disputed seas has turned deadly with reports that 20 or more people have been killed during rioting that began with attacks on foreign-owned factories."
Excerpt:
"A doctor at a hospital in the central Vietnamese province of Ha Tinh said five Vietnamese workers and 16 other people described as Chinese died during anti-China rioting on Wednesday night."
"There were about a hundred people sent to the hospital last night. Many were Chinese. More are being sent to the hospital this morning," the doctor told the Reuters news agency by phone."
Excerpt:
"Earlier this week mobs burned and looted scores of foreign-owned factories in southern Vietnam, believing they were Chinese-run when many were actually Taiwanese or South Korean."
[Source: http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/may/15/anti-china-riots-turn-deadly-in-vietnam. theguardian.com May 15, 2014.]
Given that the regime in Vietnam has had only ONE major success since the Paris Peace Accord in 1973 (unless you count their brutal expulsion of nearly a million ethnic Chinese during the late seventies and early eighties as an achievement), it is only natural that scapegoatism is spreading like wildfire. Many other countries in the region have made spectacular advances in the past generation, but Vietnam still presents a picture of timeless underdevelopment.
Where, apparently, savagery lurks barely beneath the surface.
The New York Times hints that there may be wider ripples than just the typical Viet ethnic hatred:
China Targeted by Vietnamese in Fiery Riots
Excerpt:
"On Tuesday and Wednesday, the center of those conflicts was the factories in the gritty industrial suburbs north of Ho Chi Minh City, where thousands of poor Vietnamese stitch name-brand sneakers and clothing for sale around the world. "
Note: Most of those products are destined for the well-to-do consumers of Europe and North America. Your feet have a hand in this.
Excerpt:
"Early Thursday, Nguyen Van Thong, a worker at an electronics plant he said was American-owned, said his fellow workers had been “angry over China’s invasion” when they began driving motorbikes through the streets, lobbing gasoline-soaked rags into buildings. His electronics factory was spared, he said, only when guards trying to fend off an angry crowd pointed to the Vietnamese and American flags flying overhead."
Note: Coloured rags may not save employers much longer, when the rioting masses realize that such banners are a convenient protective tactic. Surely in Vietnam, a few Vietnamese flags are easily acquired, and far cheaper than fire insurance?
Excerpt:
"The marauding crowds appeared to take their greatest toll on Taiwanese and South Korean factories. The few workers and guards who remained in the streets, where the acrid odor of burned plastic lingered early Thursday, said they assumed rioters were at first confused about the factories’ ownership, then got caught up in indiscriminate looting that rippled out from the show of anger at China."
"At one Taiwanese factory that had tried to ward off attack, a banner outside the ruined building read “No Chinese working here.” And in a stretch of the Vietnam Singapore industrial park, which includes investors from many countries, companies that hung signs in Chinese were destroyed or damaged, while nearby plants flying flags of other countries were mainly untouched."
Clearly Vietnamese petulance is motivated by bigotry and racism, rather than a well-considered perception of grievances and international politics.
Most disturbing, however, is the possibility that primitive sentiments may also become inflamed elsewhere:
"The explosion of violence reflected growing animosity in the region as China works to solidify its claims over vast parts of two seas that other nations have long considered their own."
"On Wednesday, the conflict played out not only in Vietnam, but also in the Philippines, which said it lodged a formal protest with China over signs that it is reclaiming land at a contested coral reef. "
[Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/15/world/asia/foreign-factories-in-vietnam-weigh-damage-in-anti-china-riots.html?hpw&rref=world&_r=0. NYT, MAY 14, 2014.]
It would not be irrational to fear similar outbursts eventually in Manila.
Anti-Chinese sentiment has always flourished in the Philippines, albeit largely underneath a smiling Filipino mask. Many if not most of the educated classes in the islands have blood kin in Fujian province, and every Philippino politician has connections among the entrepreneurs who built the Philippine economy.
Where-ever you look, there are potential targets.
As well as fuel for fondly imagined grievance.
There's a well-established tradition of lynching ethnic Chinese in much of South-East Asia. But the Chinese are much stronger now, and can make things rather unpleasant for countries that would fall back on past cultural practices.
Atavism may not be a wise choice.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
ANIMALS AND REDUCING ANXIETY LEVELS
Here's the brutal truth about stuffed animals: bears are fiercer than cats, even when the cat in question is larger than the bear. It's their horrible claws, and all that fierce survival sh*t.
This was the response of the big grinning purple feline, when I suggested that if the young lady (my apartment mate) started leaking (because of a nose cold) in the middle of the night, she just shove Ms. Bruin directly into the line of fire. The cat had been worried, so I sought to assure her.
Nobody is closer to the young lady than her teddy bear.
Not even the young man she's been seeing.
Certainly not the cat.
The cat was of the opinion that sick women are quite disgusting.
I wouldn't know. I am not nearly as close to my apartment mate ('the young lady') as either the bear or the cat. Nor to anybody else.
So I don't know from disgusting. Or women.
I washed and did my laundry today; I am not filthy.
And unlike a cat, I don't have to lick myself.
I deserve malted milk balls.
"It's so disappointing when you're talking to a human and you realize, oh they're filthy, and they go "hey, I'm not too filthy for a human", and you have to tell them "you can't help it, you're just a human, a walking bit of two-legged filth, that's just the way it is", and their little icky furless faces all crumple up...."
"I'm sure the monkey won't mind; he's very nasty."
"......Hey!!!! "
Like the cat, I don't know how to deal with other people's colds. Should I splash them with chicken soup? Turn up the heat? Suggest that they go have a bath, they're filthy? Simply behave like they're still quite normal?
I know! Moldy bread! It's got penicillin! That's loads of good!
The cat tells me I should stick my head under the faucet.
According to her, all humans should.
We need it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
This was the response of the big grinning purple feline, when I suggested that if the young lady (my apartment mate) started leaking (because of a nose cold) in the middle of the night, she just shove Ms. Bruin directly into the line of fire. The cat had been worried, so I sought to assure her.
Nobody is closer to the young lady than her teddy bear.
Not even the young man she's been seeing.
Certainly not the cat.
The cat was of the opinion that sick women are quite disgusting.
I wouldn't know. I am not nearly as close to my apartment mate ('the young lady') as either the bear or the cat. Nor to anybody else.
So I don't know from disgusting. Or women.
I washed and did my laundry today; I am not filthy.
And unlike a cat, I don't have to lick myself.
I deserve malted milk balls.
"It's so disappointing when you're talking to a human and you realize, oh they're filthy, and they go "hey, I'm not too filthy for a human", and you have to tell them "you can't help it, you're just a human, a walking bit of two-legged filth, that's just the way it is", and their little icky furless faces all crumple up...."
"I'm sure the monkey won't mind; he's very nasty."
"......Hey!!!! "
Like the cat, I don't know how to deal with other people's colds. Should I splash them with chicken soup? Turn up the heat? Suggest that they go have a bath, they're filthy? Simply behave like they're still quite normal?
I know! Moldy bread! It's got penicillin! That's loads of good!
The cat tells me I should stick my head under the faucet.
According to her, all humans should.
We need it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Thursday, May 15, 2014
A QUEER FASCINATION WITH LADIES' FOOTWEAR
I seem to know way more about Jimmy Choo and Prada than is healthy. Along with Fendi, Burberry, Christian Louboutin, and others. I even know about the blingy shoes worn by princess Soraya.
But I confess: I am not actually interested in such things. It's just that I research the commercial spam that robotic readers wish to leave in the comments underneath my posts.
How on earth does this particular product relate to my subject?
More importantly, can I find a meaning in it?
How do those killer sexdeath high spike heels feel?
Against the naked skin?
Particularly, against someone else's skin. Around her delicate lovely sleek footsy-wootsies?
These are thoughts that go through my mind whenever I see the name Jimmy Choo. Quite involuntarily, the words "Jimmy Choo" constrict me, and make my brow furrow, my forehead pearl. Oh, I can't breathe.
My hands start to tremble uncontrollably at the thought.
Your tender feet, my sensitive fingers.
Are you twitching?
I am.
Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo!
Blimey. Who the hell is Jimmy Choo? And why are his slave-accolytes trying to get my readers into his feet?
I like women. I really do. But instead of Bitch of Belsen boots and heels, their lovely nether appendages are FAR better shod in socks and loafers, or little moccasins. Not leather that cost more than a college loan.
You should trust me to give you advice regarding your feet. No, I'm not a "foot man", just a sensitive guy who doesn't want the shameless con-artists of the designer shoe industry to grub any money off of your burning need for pedal decor, or my urge to write slightly gibberant blogposts.
I really do hope people other than shoe shop owners are reading this. It would be dreadfully disappointing if the only people seeing my blog were sellers of expensive leather. Disturbing, too.
I do not cater to fetishists.
Please feel free to tell me all about your delightful toes, either by naughty foot-related remarks for everyone to enjoy (see clickable 'comment' link underneath the post), OR by telling me your deepest foot-related fears and fantasies in a private missive to my Letterbox. Some men are into girlie girls, some men are into boobs, some men are into blondes, and some men should never wear pants.
Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo!
Me, personally, I like women with a wicked sense of humour.
Especially if they've got feet. Two of them.
Feet that really need validation.
Two naked feet.
Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo!
This message is NOT for Jimmy Choo.
Or his brainwashed cultists.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
But I confess: I am not actually interested in such things. It's just that I research the commercial spam that robotic readers wish to leave in the comments underneath my posts.
How on earth does this particular product relate to my subject?
More importantly, can I find a meaning in it?
How do those killer sexdeath high spike heels feel?
Against the naked skin?
Particularly, against someone else's skin. Around her delicate lovely sleek footsy-wootsies?
These are thoughts that go through my mind whenever I see the name Jimmy Choo. Quite involuntarily, the words "Jimmy Choo" constrict me, and make my brow furrow, my forehead pearl. Oh, I can't breathe.
My hands start to tremble uncontrollably at the thought.
Your tender feet, my sensitive fingers.
Are you twitching?
I am.
Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo!
Blimey. Who the hell is Jimmy Choo? And why are his slave-accolytes trying to get my readers into his feet?
I like women. I really do. But instead of Bitch of Belsen boots and heels, their lovely nether appendages are FAR better shod in socks and loafers, or little moccasins. Not leather that cost more than a college loan.
You should trust me to give you advice regarding your feet. No, I'm not a "foot man", just a sensitive guy who doesn't want the shameless con-artists of the designer shoe industry to grub any money off of your burning need for pedal decor, or my urge to write slightly gibberant blogposts.
I really do hope people other than shoe shop owners are reading this. It would be dreadfully disappointing if the only people seeing my blog were sellers of expensive leather. Disturbing, too.
I do not cater to fetishists.
Please feel free to tell me all about your delightful toes, either by naughty foot-related remarks for everyone to enjoy (see clickable 'comment' link underneath the post), OR by telling me your deepest foot-related fears and fantasies in a private missive to my Letterbox. Some men are into girlie girls, some men are into boobs, some men are into blondes, and some men should never wear pants.
Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo!
Me, personally, I like women with a wicked sense of humour.
Especially if they've got feet. Two of them.
Feet that really need validation.
Two naked feet.
Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo, Jimmy Choo!
This message is NOT for Jimmy Choo.
Or his brainwashed cultists.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
ARE VIETNAMESE RACISTS? YES. THEY ARE.
One person was killed during anti-Chinese protests in Vietnam this week. Given that the "spontaneous" state-sanctioned protests were in reaction to China's extremely heavy-handed real-politik in the South China Sea, one might assume that this was a minor and unintended accident -- except, of course, if the decedent happens to be a friend or relative -- and that in the interests of making nationalist omelettes, an egg or two should break.
Until one looks at what is actually happening.
越南人民之反漢種族主義
Quote:
"The incident took place at a Taiwanese-owned mill in Ha Tinh province."
Quote:
"On Tuesday, at least 15 foreign-owned factories were set on fire at industrial parks in Binh Duong province, and hundreds more attacked."
Quote:
"One eyewitness told the BBC the protesters seemed to have targeted companies that had Chinese characters in their signs."
"The latest incident happened overnight at a huge steel plant owned by Formosa Plastics Group."
"Taiwan's envoy in Vietnam said one Chinese worker was killed and 90 other people injured."
"A local police official also confirmed this account. "One Chinese worker is dead. We are trying to identify the body," he told AFP news agency."
Source: Vietnam-China tensions: One dead in Taiwan mill protest.
BBC
南方的野蠻族
There's a long history of racialist violence in South-East Asia targeting the Chinese. The Malays committed attrocities, so did the Indonesians, the Burmese, the Thais, and the Philippinos.
During the sixties and seventies, over two million Chinese were killed in South-East Asia by other ethnicities.
Whenever a South-East Asian government needs a convenient scapegoat, anti-Chinese sentiment rears its head.
In 1978 and 1979, the Vietnamese government drove out hundreds of thousands of Chinese, whose overcrowded boats fell prey to Thai and Filippino piracy -- which many refugees did not survive -- before landing in places like Malaysia and the Philippines, were they were less than welcome.
Yes, I suppose one can blame and despise the Thais for many of the most brutal attacks on boatpeople. Some truly horrendous acts were committed by those gentle and oh so civilized Siamese. It staggers the imagination.
Utterly revolting.
But it was the Vietnamese who drove them out.
It was the Vietnamese who often pushed the vessels into deep water, then shot survivors when it sank. It was the Vietnamese who took all the cash and jewelry, then tossed a few grenades in as a farewell present. It was the Vietnamese who dispossessed merchants and shopkeepers, viciously brutalized whole families, and drove them to the docks, pushing them aboard boats already taking on water while in port.
With, of course, the same official approval that the savage riots against factories presumed to be Chinese-owned have.
So, are the Vietnamese racists?
Yes. They are.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Until one looks at what is actually happening.
越南人民之反漢種族主義
Quote:
"The incident took place at a Taiwanese-owned mill in Ha Tinh province."
Quote:
"On Tuesday, at least 15 foreign-owned factories were set on fire at industrial parks in Binh Duong province, and hundreds more attacked."
Quote:
"One eyewitness told the BBC the protesters seemed to have targeted companies that had Chinese characters in their signs."
"The latest incident happened overnight at a huge steel plant owned by Formosa Plastics Group."
"Taiwan's envoy in Vietnam said one Chinese worker was killed and 90 other people injured."
"A local police official also confirmed this account. "One Chinese worker is dead. We are trying to identify the body," he told AFP news agency."
Source: Vietnam-China tensions: One dead in Taiwan mill protest.
BBC
南方的野蠻族
There's a long history of racialist violence in South-East Asia targeting the Chinese. The Malays committed attrocities, so did the Indonesians, the Burmese, the Thais, and the Philippinos.
During the sixties and seventies, over two million Chinese were killed in South-East Asia by other ethnicities.
Whenever a South-East Asian government needs a convenient scapegoat, anti-Chinese sentiment rears its head.
In 1978 and 1979, the Vietnamese government drove out hundreds of thousands of Chinese, whose overcrowded boats fell prey to Thai and Filippino piracy -- which many refugees did not survive -- before landing in places like Malaysia and the Philippines, were they were less than welcome.
Yes, I suppose one can blame and despise the Thais for many of the most brutal attacks on boatpeople. Some truly horrendous acts were committed by those gentle and oh so civilized Siamese. It staggers the imagination.
Utterly revolting.
But it was the Vietnamese who drove them out.
It was the Vietnamese who often pushed the vessels into deep water, then shot survivors when it sank. It was the Vietnamese who took all the cash and jewelry, then tossed a few grenades in as a farewell present. It was the Vietnamese who dispossessed merchants and shopkeepers, viciously brutalized whole families, and drove them to the docks, pushing them aboard boats already taking on water while in port.
With, of course, the same official approval that the savage riots against factories presumed to be Chinese-owned have.
So, are the Vietnamese racists?
Yes. They are.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
NOODLES WITH A TOUCH OF KALAMANSI
Everyone knows that some noodle dishes are better with a squeeze of kalamansi, that's just the way it is. What's surprising is that the Italians and Northern Europeans, on the whole, cannot grasp this truth.
Maybe they're just dense?
Here in California, kalamansi is rather rare, so we make do with Key limes or regular limes.
Not quite as aromatic as kalamansi, with a different fragrance. Still, excellent as the corrolary to hot salty sweet, and valuable as a foil for fatty pork, chicharrones, and avocado.
粉、米粉；粿條、沙河粉、米頗、瀨粉。
麵；麵線、麵薄、伊麵、撈麵、蝦子麵。
On the whole, noodles are nearly unthinkable without a wedge of lime.
Which, alas, is sadly missing even in the best of Chinese noodle shops. Given that the Cantonese aren't as heavily into chili peppers and savoury shrimp paste as the Vietnamese, Thais, and Indonesians, this isn't too surprising. Still, a plate of beef chow fun (乾炒牛河) or char kway teow (炒粿條) would be immeasurably brightened by a few drops of juice.
Maybe Cantonese people are too European?
正宗炒粿條。
Broad rice noodles wokfried with pork fat, shrimp paste, chicken (豉油雞) or pork chunks (燒肉) and oysters (蠔仔), chili paste, bean sprouts, Chinese chives, dash sweet soy sauce (ketjap manis) and often, an egg scrambled in. Add cilantro, and a hefty squeeze of lime. Delicious!
Also deadly, just like a bacon cheese burger.
High fat, low on the veg scale.
You can omit the noodles and land-based proteins from the pan, and simply fry up an omelette with oysters in the pork fat. Again, sweet soy sauce, chili paste, plus Chinese chives and beansprouts.
Dump that on top of your plate of noodles.
With cilantro and a squeeze of lime.
蠔仔煎、蠔仔餅、蠔烙。
Being somewhat subject to gout, which oysters will not benefit, I tend to avoid most shellfish types. Sardines and salmon are perfectly allright, however, and fatty pork is no problem at all.
番龍城内朝雨新...
Imagine. In the antique centre of Banh Luong City, the spring rain settles the dust and amplifies all smells. It is early morning, the pathways and streets are still wet, but by mid day the sun will have dried the ground. From a shop front eatery in the central district, where the tourists are already congregating, the smell of noodles fried with pork chunks, fish, and eggplant, wafts out, luring in the passers-by. There is a clang of quick wok work, then the explosive sound of soup stock being splashed in to sizzle, loosening the pan-crusties, and the resultant fragrant hodge podge is alacritously dished out. Shredded ginger, pickled garlic, and cilantro.
A sambal made strong with fermented shrimp paste on the side.
Several wedges of fresh cut lime, and sweet soy sauce.
Strong tea with condensed milk to wash it down.
From a nearby park, there is the smell of Melati (茉莉花 "mugri"), as a very subtle suggestion at the edge of the senses.
Being a barbarian, I had a cigar afterwards.
Oh, and I made it at home. The ancient city of Banh Luong doesn't actually exist, it's really a San Francisco of the mind. But the fried noodles and key limes are real, so is the strong sweet tea.
Bitter, fragrant. Savoury, spicy.
Sour. And sweet.
Hot.
GLOSSARY 字匯
粉 fan: powder, rice flour. 米粉 mai fan: rice flour, rice noodles. 粿條 gwo tiu (kwei tiao): "cake strips", a type of Teochew and Hokkien thick rice noodle. 沙河粉 saa ho fan: river noodles. 米頗 mai po: two words which, when combined as one character, are the Chữ Nôm (字喃) glyph for phở (越南粉); a Vietnamese noodle dish. 瀨粉 laai fan: a type of Cantonese noodle.
麵 min: wheat flour noodles. 麵線 min sin: thread noodle. 麵薄 min pok: flat egg noodle. 伊麵 yi min: chewy noodles for certain fried dishes. 撈麵 lo min: wheat flour noodles for pan-frying and saucing. 蝦子麵 haa chai min: dried thin noodles made with shrimp roe for flavour.
乾炒牛河 gon chaau ngau ho: dry-fried ox river; fried rice-stick noodles with beef and scallion, a very Cantonese dish.
炒粿條 chaau gwo tiu ('char kway teow'): a popular noodle dish in Singapore, Malaysia, and Indonesia; fat, small shellfish, cake noodles, bean sprouts, sweet soy, and chili.
正宗炒粿條 jing jung chaau gwo tiu: orthodox (original) char kway teow; cake noodles stir-fried with whatever is cheapest yet tastiest, the biggest bang for your buck.
豉油雞 si yau kai: soy-sauce chicken, usually chopped through the bone into chunks.
燒肉 siu yiuk: roast meat; crust-on pork belly cooked with high heat.
蠔仔 hou chai: small oysters, being nutritious molluscs of several different closely related groups characterized by a calcified valve .
蠔仔煎 hou chai jin, 蠔仔餅 hou chai beng, 蠔烙 hou lok: oyster omelette, a very popular casual food originating in the Minnan culture zone in Southern China, popularized wherever Hokkien and Teochow speakers have settled, as well as several Cantonese-speaking areas.
番龍城内朝雨新 faan long seng-noi chiu yü san: barbarian dragons walls within morning rain new; "inside the city of barbarian thunder-lizards, the early rain is fresh/freshens".
茉莉花 mut lei faa: jasmine, jasminum sambac. The Chinese name replicates the Sanskrit term 'mallika'. Native originally to an area in the Himalayas, now cultivated and naturalized all over South-East Asia. Melati is the Indonesian name, much used in the Netherlands for its lovely recollection of sanctity, grace, and purity, the virtues of womanhood and the new bride. In the Philippine islands it is called sampaguita, where it is the national flower.
Please note that the pronunciation of the Chinese characters above is in a toneless approximation of the language of Canton. My command of Hokkien has faded much since I left Holland, alas.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Maybe they're just dense?
Here in California, kalamansi is rather rare, so we make do with Key limes or regular limes.
Not quite as aromatic as kalamansi, with a different fragrance. Still, excellent as the corrolary to hot salty sweet, and valuable as a foil for fatty pork, chicharrones, and avocado.
粉、米粉；粿條、沙河粉、米頗、瀨粉。
麵；麵線、麵薄、伊麵、撈麵、蝦子麵。
On the whole, noodles are nearly unthinkable without a wedge of lime.
Which, alas, is sadly missing even in the best of Chinese noodle shops. Given that the Cantonese aren't as heavily into chili peppers and savoury shrimp paste as the Vietnamese, Thais, and Indonesians, this isn't too surprising. Still, a plate of beef chow fun (乾炒牛河) or char kway teow (炒粿條) would be immeasurably brightened by a few drops of juice.
Maybe Cantonese people are too European?
正宗炒粿條。
Broad rice noodles wokfried with pork fat, shrimp paste, chicken (豉油雞) or pork chunks (燒肉) and oysters (蠔仔), chili paste, bean sprouts, Chinese chives, dash sweet soy sauce (ketjap manis) and often, an egg scrambled in. Add cilantro, and a hefty squeeze of lime. Delicious!
Also deadly, just like a bacon cheese burger.
High fat, low on the veg scale.
You can omit the noodles and land-based proteins from the pan, and simply fry up an omelette with oysters in the pork fat. Again, sweet soy sauce, chili paste, plus Chinese chives and beansprouts.
Dump that on top of your plate of noodles.
With cilantro and a squeeze of lime.
蠔仔煎、蠔仔餅、蠔烙。
Being somewhat subject to gout, which oysters will not benefit, I tend to avoid most shellfish types. Sardines and salmon are perfectly allright, however, and fatty pork is no problem at all.
番龍城内朝雨新...
Imagine. In the antique centre of Banh Luong City, the spring rain settles the dust and amplifies all smells. It is early morning, the pathways and streets are still wet, but by mid day the sun will have dried the ground. From a shop front eatery in the central district, where the tourists are already congregating, the smell of noodles fried with pork chunks, fish, and eggplant, wafts out, luring in the passers-by. There is a clang of quick wok work, then the explosive sound of soup stock being splashed in to sizzle, loosening the pan-crusties, and the resultant fragrant hodge podge is alacritously dished out. Shredded ginger, pickled garlic, and cilantro.
A sambal made strong with fermented shrimp paste on the side.
Several wedges of fresh cut lime, and sweet soy sauce.
Strong tea with condensed milk to wash it down.
From a nearby park, there is the smell of Melati (茉莉花 "mugri"), as a very subtle suggestion at the edge of the senses.
Being a barbarian, I had a cigar afterwards.
Oh, and I made it at home. The ancient city of Banh Luong doesn't actually exist, it's really a San Francisco of the mind. But the fried noodles and key limes are real, so is the strong sweet tea.
Bitter, fragrant. Savoury, spicy.
Sour. And sweet.
Hot.
GLOSSARY 字匯
粉 fan: powder, rice flour. 米粉 mai fan: rice flour, rice noodles. 粿條 gwo tiu (kwei tiao): "cake strips", a type of Teochew and Hokkien thick rice noodle. 沙河粉 saa ho fan: river noodles. 米頗 mai po: two words which, when combined as one character, are the Chữ Nôm (字喃) glyph for phở (越南粉); a Vietnamese noodle dish. 瀨粉 laai fan: a type of Cantonese noodle.
麵 min: wheat flour noodles. 麵線 min sin: thread noodle. 麵薄 min pok: flat egg noodle. 伊麵 yi min: chewy noodles for certain fried dishes. 撈麵 lo min: wheat flour noodles for pan-frying and saucing. 蝦子麵 haa chai min: dried thin noodles made with shrimp roe for flavour.
乾炒牛河 gon chaau ngau ho: dry-fried ox river; fried rice-stick noodles with beef and scallion, a very Cantonese dish.
炒粿條 chaau gwo tiu ('char kway teow'): a popular noodle dish in Singapore, Malaysia, and Indonesia; fat, small shellfish, cake noodles, bean sprouts, sweet soy, and chili.
正宗炒粿條 jing jung chaau gwo tiu: orthodox (original) char kway teow; cake noodles stir-fried with whatever is cheapest yet tastiest, the biggest bang for your buck.
豉油雞 si yau kai: soy-sauce chicken, usually chopped through the bone into chunks.
燒肉 siu yiuk: roast meat; crust-on pork belly cooked with high heat.
蠔仔 hou chai: small oysters, being nutritious molluscs of several different closely related groups characterized by a calcified valve .
蠔仔煎 hou chai jin, 蠔仔餅 hou chai beng, 蠔烙 hou lok: oyster omelette, a very popular casual food originating in the Minnan culture zone in Southern China, popularized wherever Hokkien and Teochow speakers have settled, as well as several Cantonese-speaking areas.
番龍城内朝雨新 faan long seng-noi chiu yü san: barbarian dragons walls within morning rain new; "inside the city of barbarian thunder-lizards, the early rain is fresh/freshens".
茉莉花 mut lei faa: jasmine, jasminum sambac. The Chinese name replicates the Sanskrit term 'mallika'. Native originally to an area in the Himalayas, now cultivated and naturalized all over South-East Asia. Melati is the Indonesian name, much used in the Netherlands for its lovely recollection of sanctity, grace, and purity, the virtues of womanhood and the new bride. In the Philippine islands it is called sampaguita, where it is the national flower.
Please note that the pronunciation of the Chinese characters above is in a toneless approximation of the language of Canton. My command of Hokkien has faded much since I left Holland, alas.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
FIERCE GROWLS OF RECOGNITION
Larkin Street past the driveway where years ago a raccoon had been so publicly grooming its unmentionable parts -- albeit discreetly long after dark, when almost no one was around, and up Pacific to Hyde Street, where two raccoons had waited for the green light ere crossing. That was several years ago, long past midnight, in pitchest dark and howling rain, when all nice people should have been asleep.
No raccoons in daylight.
Nor any place that serves milk-tea. Which is what one really wants.
Something to put one's furry paws around.
Ah, warmth! And milky-milky!
There are not enough fuzzballs between Nob and Russian Hill.
Though of the ones that are here, too many are dogs.
Not so many felines; far too few in fact.
Less raccoons than before.
It's a little lonely out there.
I can hear the code-monkeys howling in their over-priced apartments. The start-up boom has not been kind to San Francisco, wild anthropoids have flocked to the city. They compete with the local wildlife, and pre-emptively raid garbage cans; the e-revolution is no place for animals.
Cold emotionless programming language.
Rude graffiti in HTML.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
No raccoons in daylight.
Nor any place that serves milk-tea. Which is what one really wants.
Something to put one's furry paws around.
Ah, warmth! And milky-milky!
There are not enough fuzzballs between Nob and Russian Hill.
Though of the ones that are here, too many are dogs.
Not so many felines; far too few in fact.
Less raccoons than before.
It's a little lonely out there.
I can hear the code-monkeys howling in their over-priced apartments. The start-up boom has not been kind to San Francisco, wild anthropoids have flocked to the city. They compete with the local wildlife, and pre-emptively raid garbage cans; the e-revolution is no place for animals.
Cold emotionless programming language.
Rude graffiti in HTML.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU WANT AN ASIAN GIRL FRIEND?
Being able to speak Cantonese (sort of) and Mandarin (very badly) often elicits one of two irritating comments, either "gam, neige lou poh hai Tong yan, hah?" or "you probably want a Chinese girlfriend".
Both suppositions are quite incorrect. I am not married, so I do not have a lou poh, nor do I wish to have a Chinese girlfriend, ever. But instead of explaining that they read it all wrong, I usually change the subject.
What I really should say is "good lord NO!"
What a painful and dangerous concept!
噉，你嘅老婆係唐人，吓？
My Cantonese is not fluent enough for in-depth communication, merely good enough to listen in and occasionally interject something. Plus I can establish that I probably do know what the heck it is that I just ordered, and therefore do not need to warned away -- Cantonese restaurateurs do not want a dissatisfied customer -- as well as reading menus, labels, shop signs, and parts of the newspaper. I'm perfectly happy with that level.
It's the same for my abilities in German, French, and the noble South-Limburgian dialect, and far better than I speak several other languages.
[I've watched much of Monty Python ('Monty Python Repülő Cirkusza') in Hungarian. At this point, I could probably recite the preamble to The Lumberjack Song in that language. The Magyar nyelv is a wonderful tongue. Magyars are also Asian, sort of. I do not want a Magyar wife, but thank you for jumping to that berserk conclusion.]
I have no desire for a Chinese girlfriend because if we don't share the same first language, both of us would be heading into a disaster.
Besides which, expectations would be vastly different.
As well as our cultural and racial hang-ups.
Same goes for all other Asians.
Not enough in common.
I should also mention that I do not particularly like Asian women; they aren't any more socially adept or decorative than Europeans.
And not a whit less crazy.
I like women who read.
At least, read more than celeb gossip columns and fashion magazines, or cookbooks. Women who have read intensely and frequently since college, for both entertainment and knowledge. Women who consider reading a natural and worthwhile thing to do, for many hours at a time, daily.
I guess what that really means is that I do not like most women.
Most men neither, but, erm, not looking in that direction.
The stereotypic blonde is also out; she can't read.
[Among Asian women, the Japanese read. But they're totally batshit crazy, bless them, as well as being Japanese.]
At this point, you are probably saying to yourself "well dang, he seems like an arrogant prick, why would any woman like him?" And you're right.
Why would any woman like me?
It can't be my knowledge of Chinese. Or German, French, and South-Limburgian. Nor is it the ineffable charm and gentle wit that I almost certainly do not possess.
You know, as a middle-aged pipesmoker who just hasn't struck it rich, I am by utterly no means any girl's ideal catch. None of my favourite subjects, dictionaries, or books, are in any way universally appealing, nor status-enhancers. I am not athletic, and certainly not style-conscious.
I am not good for your career, I shan't buy you a house or a car, and as far as consumer goods are concerned, I am a complete wash-out.
Neither prestige nor material benefit is likely.
My gift-giving, while sort-of thoughtful (I try), is rather limited to books, ceramics, tobacco products, wine, food, and flowers.
No handbags. Ever.
Frequent snackipoos in down-to-earth Chinatown eateries, however, are a given. That's probably not high on anyone's list, but it is the one constant beyond which all other constancies must fade.
Pastries. Milk-tea. Crunchy-flaky-warm.
AN ARROGANT PRICK WITH A SPATULA
I can cook shark fin soup, cheung fan, haahm yü yiuk beng, noodles, curries, Indonesian food, Filippino dishes, and very European stuff. Think in terms of "Belgian meets Southern Chinese, heads over to the Dutch East Indies, and gets clobbered by an angry ghee-wielding Hindu en-route".
Although remaining passionately committed to parfait de foie gras.
Please note that 'Belgian' came first in that description.
That's not necessarily a good thing. Nor bad.
But lord knows, it ain't sexy.
I am totally fluent in Dutch and English.
At least I think I am.
Pipes. Tobacco. Food. Hot sauce.
There. That about covers it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Both suppositions are quite incorrect. I am not married, so I do not have a lou poh, nor do I wish to have a Chinese girlfriend, ever. But instead of explaining that they read it all wrong, I usually change the subject.
What I really should say is "good lord NO!"
What a painful and dangerous concept!
噉，你嘅老婆係唐人，吓？
My Cantonese is not fluent enough for in-depth communication, merely good enough to listen in and occasionally interject something. Plus I can establish that I probably do know what the heck it is that I just ordered, and therefore do not need to warned away -- Cantonese restaurateurs do not want a dissatisfied customer -- as well as reading menus, labels, shop signs, and parts of the newspaper. I'm perfectly happy with that level.
It's the same for my abilities in German, French, and the noble South-Limburgian dialect, and far better than I speak several other languages.
[I've watched much of Monty Python ('Monty Python Repülő Cirkusza') in Hungarian. At this point, I could probably recite the preamble to The Lumberjack Song in that language. The Magyar nyelv is a wonderful tongue. Magyars are also Asian, sort of. I do not want a Magyar wife, but thank you for jumping to that berserk conclusion.]
I have no desire for a Chinese girlfriend because if we don't share the same first language, both of us would be heading into a disaster.
Besides which, expectations would be vastly different.
As well as our cultural and racial hang-ups.
Same goes for all other Asians.
Not enough in common.
I should also mention that I do not particularly like Asian women; they aren't any more socially adept or decorative than Europeans.
And not a whit less crazy.
I like women who read.
At least, read more than celeb gossip columns and fashion magazines, or cookbooks. Women who have read intensely and frequently since college, for both entertainment and knowledge. Women who consider reading a natural and worthwhile thing to do, for many hours at a time, daily.
I guess what that really means is that I do not like most women.
Most men neither, but, erm, not looking in that direction.
The stereotypic blonde is also out; she can't read.
[Among Asian women, the Japanese read. But they're totally batshit crazy, bless them, as well as being Japanese.]
At this point, you are probably saying to yourself "well dang, he seems like an arrogant prick, why would any woman like him?" And you're right.
Why would any woman like me?
It can't be my knowledge of Chinese. Or German, French, and South-Limburgian. Nor is it the ineffable charm and gentle wit that I almost certainly do not possess.
You know, as a middle-aged pipesmoker who just hasn't struck it rich, I am by utterly no means any girl's ideal catch. None of my favourite subjects, dictionaries, or books, are in any way universally appealing, nor status-enhancers. I am not athletic, and certainly not style-conscious.
I am not good for your career, I shan't buy you a house or a car, and as far as consumer goods are concerned, I am a complete wash-out.
Neither prestige nor material benefit is likely.
My gift-giving, while sort-of thoughtful (I try), is rather limited to books, ceramics, tobacco products, wine, food, and flowers.
No handbags. Ever.
Frequent snackipoos in down-to-earth Chinatown eateries, however, are a given. That's probably not high on anyone's list, but it is the one constant beyond which all other constancies must fade.
Pastries. Milk-tea. Crunchy-flaky-warm.
AN ARROGANT PRICK WITH A SPATULA
I can cook shark fin soup, cheung fan, haahm yü yiuk beng, noodles, curries, Indonesian food, Filippino dishes, and very European stuff. Think in terms of "Belgian meets Southern Chinese, heads over to the Dutch East Indies, and gets clobbered by an angry ghee-wielding Hindu en-route".
Although remaining passionately committed to parfait de foie gras.
Please note that 'Belgian' came first in that description.
That's not necessarily a good thing. Nor bad.
But lord knows, it ain't sexy.
I am totally fluent in Dutch and English.
At least I think I am.
Pipes. Tobacco. Food. Hot sauce.
There. That about covers it.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
THAT'S GOOD EATING!
In discussion recently one of the well-known stand-bys of suburban cuisine came up, as such things are wont to do. My friend opined that it was damned well inedible, indigestible, and indescribable.
By which I think he meant 'awful'.
He was wrong on that last point.
"Water, soybean oil, vinegar, sugar, modified corn starch, eggs. Ingredients making up less than 2% of product include salt, mustard flour, paprika, spice, natural flavor, potassium sorbate, enzyme modified egg yolk, and dried garlic."
That describes it perfectly. I always add enzyme modified egg yolk and dried garlic to my condiments, don't you?
I only know all this because I was reading about Hollandaise sauce on Wikipedia. As compared to other sauces. One of which is 'miraculous'.
Hollandaise is pretty darn miraculous too.
"Hollandaise requires some skill and practice to prepare and hold. Properly made, it will be smooth and creamy with no hint of separation. The flavor will be rich and buttery, with a mild tang from the lemon juice. It is best prepared and served warm, but not hot. There are several methods for preparing a hollandaise sauce. All methods require near-constant agitation, usually with a wire whisk."
"One family of methods involves acidifying the egg yolks to aid in the formation of an emulsion, either with lemon juice or vinegar. Escoffier uses a reduction of vinegar and water. Others use lemon juice or sherry. The acidified yolks are whisked gently over simmering water until they thicken and lighten in color (144 °F/62 °C). Then, as with a mayonnaise, the emulsion is formed by very slowly whisking melted butter into it. Use of clarified butter is common."
[Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hollandaise.]
What spiked my curiosity was Eggs Sardou, a Louisiana Creole dish of poached egg on top of creamed spinach, glooped with Hollandaise.
Hollandaise is a basic building block of French cooking, and instrumental in some of the finest heart attacks. All that fabulous butter!
"The most common derivative is Sauce Béarnaise. It can be produced by replacing the acidifying agent (vinegar reduction or lemon juice) in a preparation with a strained reduction of vinegar, shallots, fresh chervil, fresh tarragon and (if to taste) crushed peppercorns. Alternatively, the flavorings may be added to a standard hollandaise. Béarnaise and its children are often used on steak or other "assertive" grilled meats and fish."
[See previously cited Wikipedia article.]
Off the shelf Béarnaise, found in supermarkets, is usually a version made with mayonnaise instead of Hollandaise, because butter stiffens up in the refrigerator, much like cholesterol in arteries.
Real Béarnaise is fabulous on French Fries, especially with some sweet'n spicy barbecue sauce and Sriracha hotsauce. I suppose if you served it with creamed spinach and a poached egg you could call it "cuisine".
It sounds absolutely fabulous.
Don't forget to add the enzyme modified egg yolk and dried garlic.
Plus chopped smoked bacon to garnish.
And a sprig cilantro.
"If wine is to be served, it should be white, preferably a slightly sweet white wine."
I would suggest Château d'Yquem.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
By which I think he meant 'awful'.
He was wrong on that last point.
"Water, soybean oil, vinegar, sugar, modified corn starch, eggs. Ingredients making up less than 2% of product include salt, mustard flour, paprika, spice, natural flavor, potassium sorbate, enzyme modified egg yolk, and dried garlic."
That describes it perfectly. I always add enzyme modified egg yolk and dried garlic to my condiments, don't you?
I only know all this because I was reading about Hollandaise sauce on Wikipedia. As compared to other sauces. One of which is 'miraculous'.
Hollandaise is pretty darn miraculous too.
"Hollandaise requires some skill and practice to prepare and hold. Properly made, it will be smooth and creamy with no hint of separation. The flavor will be rich and buttery, with a mild tang from the lemon juice. It is best prepared and served warm, but not hot. There are several methods for preparing a hollandaise sauce. All methods require near-constant agitation, usually with a wire whisk."
"One family of methods involves acidifying the egg yolks to aid in the formation of an emulsion, either with lemon juice or vinegar. Escoffier uses a reduction of vinegar and water. Others use lemon juice or sherry. The acidified yolks are whisked gently over simmering water until they thicken and lighten in color (144 °F/62 °C). Then, as with a mayonnaise, the emulsion is formed by very slowly whisking melted butter into it. Use of clarified butter is common."
[Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hollandaise.]
What spiked my curiosity was Eggs Sardou, a Louisiana Creole dish of poached egg on top of creamed spinach, glooped with Hollandaise.
Hollandaise is a basic building block of French cooking, and instrumental in some of the finest heart attacks. All that fabulous butter!
"The most common derivative is Sauce Béarnaise. It can be produced by replacing the acidifying agent (vinegar reduction or lemon juice) in a preparation with a strained reduction of vinegar, shallots, fresh chervil, fresh tarragon and (if to taste) crushed peppercorns. Alternatively, the flavorings may be added to a standard hollandaise. Béarnaise and its children are often used on steak or other "assertive" grilled meats and fish."
[See previously cited Wikipedia article.]
Off the shelf Béarnaise, found in supermarkets, is usually a version made with mayonnaise instead of Hollandaise, because butter stiffens up in the refrigerator, much like cholesterol in arteries.
Real Béarnaise is fabulous on French Fries, especially with some sweet'n spicy barbecue sauce and Sriracha hotsauce. I suppose if you served it with creamed spinach and a poached egg you could call it "cuisine".
It sounds absolutely fabulous.
Don't forget to add the enzyme modified egg yolk and dried garlic.
Plus chopped smoked bacon to garnish.
And a sprig cilantro.
"If wine is to be served, it should be white, preferably a slightly sweet white wine."
I would suggest Château d'Yquem.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Monday, May 12, 2014
WHITE PEOPLE, KINDLY STAY OUT OF CHINATOWN! THANK YOU!
So far the San Francisco Department of Public Health has put several affordable eateries in Chinatown out of business. More are undoubtedly shortlisted. One might suspect them of being stuck-up officious Filipinos employing that well-known racism against the Chinese, or puritanical white xenophobes from Arizona or the Deep South. Or even, heaven forfend, corrupt city employees trying to solicit bribes.
I would not be at all surprised to discover that there are city employees enthusiastically making use of their position and English ability to squeeze people who do not speak English, who are just trying to make an honest living in an increasingly unfriendly cultural environment. Corruption is endemic when the victims are neither able to fight back nor willing to stand up and tell the bureaucrats to go piss up a rope.
But more than likely, they're simply among the more easily impressed readers of Yelp and other venom-spewing social media sites. Or they wish, desperately, to cater to the e-yuppies who are taking over and ruining San Francisco. Clueless, unimaginative, and self-impressed.
Some of whom actually are bigoted Filipinos.
Or disapproving white folk from Arizona.
And other southern-mentality zones.
As well as the East Coast.
Consider these doozies lifted from Yelp of several of my favourite food places in Chinatown:
"The service is terrible... very rude... very little meat ... did not look clean... get the hell out... mediocre... a funny flavor... horrible... avoid... outdated like everyone else here... way overrated... total disappointment."
[All of that describes a place where despite the crowded conditions I have never been disappointed. If I eat there too often, I'll probably die fat and happy far too soon.
It's underrated.]
"Cold and bland... super disappointing... expect to not be understood if you don't speak whatever Chinese dialect... the worst food I've ever had... it wasn't even edible... random parts of the pig... very unpleasant... no meat in it at all... an absolutely awful aftertaste... not enough meat."
[I've eaten there several times. I don't even recognize it in any of this. I've never had a dissatisfying experience there at all, and it's always crowded with happy people.
BTW: they speak Cantonese, Mandarin, and English.]
"I like Jollibee fried chicken better... the rice was okay... the kitchen is very dirty... when I got home, I had the runs... it was covered in batter.... mostly bone and fat... about the most tasteless I've ever had... a dirty cheap Chinese place."
[Jollibee, in case you didn't know, is a Filipino joint, run by Filippinos, for Filipinos. The place described in unflattering terms is ten times better than Jollibee.
Damned Filipinos. Please stay in Daly City.]
"Bland and oily... bad service... rude and mean... saturated in oil... lacking in substance... service was so bad... a nightmare... Do they know how it's served in Hong Kong? Not impressed... a rather fugly looking mess... even unhealthier than HK. They don't give a shit...totally unprofessional crap... there are far tastier, magnificent HK edibles elsewhere."
[The white person who went to Hong Kong thinks far too much of himself. He's probably big, spongy, and overfed. And a computer programmer. As well as one hell of a superficialist.]
"Service doesn't exist at this place... they should at least be lukewarm and still crispy... dirty and dirty.... hate this place... I will never come back here... dirty floors, sticky tables, stinky restrooms... congealed mess... how bad could it be... grits!"
[Were they even talking about the same place? Maybe instead they described some restaurant in Pittsburgh or Detroit, or heaven help us New York. They probably weren't sufficiently fawned over by the hard-working staff.]
"Far from good... clueless... minimal English... nothing else ordered was palatable... extremely oily... stay away from the seafood... sketchy... a real let down... you can't expect a whole lot coming from Chinatown."
[Okay. I can accept that you have no clue. Everything there is more than palatable, and quite delicious. Which I know from experience. The seafood is very fresh. I expect a lot from them, they always deliver.]
"Greasy, too much dough and very little filling. Also not very clean."
[Some dude from Illinois -- they know from food there? Hoo hah!]
And it goes on and on. I have to ask, how many white tourists does it really take to buy a can of coca cola? All five of you? You take up space, have no clue that you're blocking everyone else, and that you are asking all kinds of stupid questions about stuff you have NO intention of eating anyhow is a monumental waste of the counter-lady's time and patience. The only upside is that she might learn some more English from exposure to you.
Why is it, that ten of you beef-fed Midwestern lardasses can make more noise and waste more of the staff's time than several times that number of neighborhood people? Then bellyache a storm about something totally unimportant and immaterial? Are you lot habitually loathsome?
Or just so full of yourselves?
Look, fast-food burger joints were invented specifically for your exqui dining pleasure. The menu is simple enough that even children can understand it, and you really really can have it your way. The only intellectually stressful decision you'll have to make is whether you want fries with that.
Go for the fries; you deserve a break today.
You want cheap, I get that. But your expectations are unrealistic. Whole Foods and Trader Joe level ingredients cost money. These folks know their customers, and if they started charging for the best cuts of meat and fancy imported European ingredients, they'd go out of business. They're catering to an audience which is NOT living high off the hog. And which actually likes a bit of animal fat, offal, gluten, and cholesterol.
This afternoon I was so looking forward to bowl of congee and a yautiu, only to discover that the bastards have closed the place down till further notice. Either the European tourists, the buggery Midwesterners, or the e-trash yuppies alerted the San Francisco Department of Public Health.
Whose socially-impaired and quite possibly corrupt as all git-out pencil pushers saw a splendid opportunity to show nice white San Franciscans that, by golly, they really cared.
The folks who run that restaurant work their netherends off.
That's an entirely family now without income.
Who still have rent to pay.
The people who eat there regularly want a good solid meal at a price they can afford. Me too. Their fried oil stick was the best on Stockton Street.
Yeah, the coffee is scheisse. But I don't go there for that.
In conclusion, will all of you pretentious pricks who expect Cordon Bleu food and service kindly go elsewhere. That isn't what you will get in a largely working-class neighborhood, which is now vastly more densely populated than ever before, due to rising rents and decreasing business opportunities. There are plenty of places where you can eat something exotic and have smiling patient waiters and waitresses attend to your every wish.
They're called 'Thai Restaurants'.
AFTER WORD
A regular reader left a wistfull comment underneath a post recently:
"Years ago this was a place to come for astute political commentary. Now, with slight variations its more about what you had for supper on any given day."
Yeah, I know, and I'm sorry. I've given up on political commentary. Between the far-right asshats and the dangerously loony leftwing, it just ain't worth it any more. I am no longer moved to indignation, but simply ignore the gun-nuts, radical Teabaggers, ignorant sods, and pretty much everybody who wants to save the whales, hug random trees, or ban plastic bags.
Let us eat the whales. We'll take the leftovers home.
In a convenient (and free) plastic bag.
Bon appétit.
Lunch sucked, by the way.
Please note: the "white people" referenced in the title of this post are not those for whom it is merely a happenstance of identity, but specifically those folks in which it is a glaring character defect. Much like veganism, spirituality, gun-nut, teabaggery, and other offensively defensive ethnicities and subcultures.
Please feel free to object
Whatever.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
I would not be at all surprised to discover that there are city employees enthusiastically making use of their position and English ability to squeeze people who do not speak English, who are just trying to make an honest living in an increasingly unfriendly cultural environment. Corruption is endemic when the victims are neither able to fight back nor willing to stand up and tell the bureaucrats to go piss up a rope.
But more than likely, they're simply among the more easily impressed readers of Yelp and other venom-spewing social media sites. Or they wish, desperately, to cater to the e-yuppies who are taking over and ruining San Francisco. Clueless, unimaginative, and self-impressed.
Some of whom actually are bigoted Filipinos.
Or disapproving white folk from Arizona.
And other southern-mentality zones.
As well as the East Coast.
Consider these doozies lifted from Yelp of several of my favourite food places in Chinatown:
"The service is terrible... very rude... very little meat ... did not look clean... get the hell out... mediocre... a funny flavor... horrible... avoid... outdated like everyone else here... way overrated... total disappointment."
[All of that describes a place where despite the crowded conditions I have never been disappointed. If I eat there too often, I'll probably die fat and happy far too soon.
It's underrated.]
"Cold and bland... super disappointing... expect to not be understood if you don't speak whatever Chinese dialect... the worst food I've ever had... it wasn't even edible... random parts of the pig... very unpleasant... no meat in it at all... an absolutely awful aftertaste... not enough meat."
[I've eaten there several times. I don't even recognize it in any of this. I've never had a dissatisfying experience there at all, and it's always crowded with happy people.
BTW: they speak Cantonese, Mandarin, and English.]
"I like Jollibee fried chicken better... the rice was okay... the kitchen is very dirty... when I got home, I had the runs... it was covered in batter.... mostly bone and fat... about the most tasteless I've ever had... a dirty cheap Chinese place."
[Jollibee, in case you didn't know, is a Filipino joint, run by Filippinos, for Filipinos. The place described in unflattering terms is ten times better than Jollibee.
Damned Filipinos. Please stay in Daly City.]
"Bland and oily... bad service... rude and mean... saturated in oil... lacking in substance... service was so bad... a nightmare... Do they know how it's served in Hong Kong? Not impressed... a rather fugly looking mess... even unhealthier than HK. They don't give a shit...totally unprofessional crap... there are far tastier, magnificent HK edibles elsewhere."
[The white person who went to Hong Kong thinks far too much of himself. He's probably big, spongy, and overfed. And a computer programmer. As well as one hell of a superficialist.]
"Service doesn't exist at this place... they should at least be lukewarm and still crispy... dirty and dirty.... hate this place... I will never come back here... dirty floors, sticky tables, stinky restrooms... congealed mess... how bad could it be... grits!"
[Were they even talking about the same place? Maybe instead they described some restaurant in Pittsburgh or Detroit, or heaven help us New York. They probably weren't sufficiently fawned over by the hard-working staff.]
"Far from good... clueless... minimal English... nothing else ordered was palatable... extremely oily... stay away from the seafood... sketchy... a real let down... you can't expect a whole lot coming from Chinatown."
[Okay. I can accept that you have no clue. Everything there is more than palatable, and quite delicious. Which I know from experience. The seafood is very fresh. I expect a lot from them, they always deliver.]
"Greasy, too much dough and very little filling. Also not very clean."
[Some dude from Illinois -- they know from food there? Hoo hah!]
And it goes on and on. I have to ask, how many white tourists does it really take to buy a can of coca cola? All five of you? You take up space, have no clue that you're blocking everyone else, and that you are asking all kinds of stupid questions about stuff you have NO intention of eating anyhow is a monumental waste of the counter-lady's time and patience. The only upside is that she might learn some more English from exposure to you.
Why is it, that ten of you beef-fed Midwestern lardasses can make more noise and waste more of the staff's time than several times that number of neighborhood people? Then bellyache a storm about something totally unimportant and immaterial? Are you lot habitually loathsome?
Or just so full of yourselves?
Look, fast-food burger joints were invented specifically for your exqui dining pleasure. The menu is simple enough that even children can understand it, and you really really can have it your way. The only intellectually stressful decision you'll have to make is whether you want fries with that.
Go for the fries; you deserve a break today.
You want cheap, I get that. But your expectations are unrealistic. Whole Foods and Trader Joe level ingredients cost money. These folks know their customers, and if they started charging for the best cuts of meat and fancy imported European ingredients, they'd go out of business. They're catering to an audience which is NOT living high off the hog. And which actually likes a bit of animal fat, offal, gluten, and cholesterol.
This afternoon I was so looking forward to bowl of congee and a yautiu, only to discover that the bastards have closed the place down till further notice. Either the European tourists, the buggery Midwesterners, or the e-trash yuppies alerted the San Francisco Department of Public Health.
Whose socially-impaired and quite possibly corrupt as all git-out pencil pushers saw a splendid opportunity to show nice white San Franciscans that, by golly, they really cared.
The folks who run that restaurant work their netherends off.
That's an entirely family now without income.
Who still have rent to pay.
The people who eat there regularly want a good solid meal at a price they can afford. Me too. Their fried oil stick was the best on Stockton Street.
Yeah, the coffee is scheisse. But I don't go there for that.
In conclusion, will all of you pretentious pricks who expect Cordon Bleu food and service kindly go elsewhere. That isn't what you will get in a largely working-class neighborhood, which is now vastly more densely populated than ever before, due to rising rents and decreasing business opportunities. There are plenty of places where you can eat something exotic and have smiling patient waiters and waitresses attend to your every wish.
They're called 'Thai Restaurants'.
AFTER WORD
A regular reader left a wistfull comment underneath a post recently:
"Years ago this was a place to come for astute political commentary. Now, with slight variations its more about what you had for supper on any given day."
Yeah, I know, and I'm sorry. I've given up on political commentary. Between the far-right asshats and the dangerously loony leftwing, it just ain't worth it any more. I am no longer moved to indignation, but simply ignore the gun-nuts, radical Teabaggers, ignorant sods, and pretty much everybody who wants to save the whales, hug random trees, or ban plastic bags.
Let us eat the whales. We'll take the leftovers home.
In a convenient (and free) plastic bag.
Bon appétit.
Lunch sucked, by the way.
Please note: the "white people" referenced in the title of this post are not those for whom it is merely a happenstance of identity, but specifically those folks in which it is a glaring character defect. Much like veganism, spirituality, gun-nut, teabaggery, and other offensively defensive ethnicities and subcultures.
Please feel free to object
Whatever.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
STOP STARING
One person I know has a pet snake. For him, given his access to edible mice, it's probably an ideal situation. Edible mice are those rodents specifically sold as reptile food. In case you were wondering, my sympathies are entirely with the small furry beasties. While I like snakes and other squamates, their capacity for emotional response is limited.
They don't even grunt, dammit.
Many years ago I woke up after a new years eve party with a large iguana on my chest, in my sweater. It decided in the middle of the night that I was significantly better than an electric rock, and had moved on in.
It would be a slight exaggeration to say that we bonded.
It just could not back out, because of its spines.
Nor move forward; my chin was in the way.
It just lay there, placidly blowing into my face.
Lizard breath. An herbivorous beast.
Thank goodness for that.
No digested rat.
"A relationship between a cat and a human can involve mutual attraction, personality compatibility, ease of interaction, play, affection and social support"
[Source: Cats bond with women -- and not just for food - NBC News.]
Other than it's fondness for the body temperature of the sleeping Dutchman, the iguana didn't have much personality.
While I was still living in a hellhole burb on the other side of San Francisco Bay (Berkeley), I had a cat that was always overjoyed to see me. She was a very lovable creature when asleep, but a veritable Hound of the Basker-villes among felines when awake. It was the only creature I ever had in my dwelling who could climb walls -- other than the squirrel who moved in when I was still in the Netherlands -- and it did so by sheer energy and insane determination. Three quarters of the way up it would loose its grip and fall, then whirl about the room bouncing off the furniture and the occupant.
As I said, lovable when at rest.
A terror otherwise.
Animals always take advantage of me. They recognize me as harmless and infinitely patient, tolerant of a very wide spectrum of opportunistic behaviour. Especially if they are small, cute, and cuddly. The iguana probably believed itself such, though, being a cold-blooded reptile, it may not have understood what "cute and cuddly" actually meant.
This explains why I will NEVER visit the desert or the tropical rainforests of Central America: scorpions and tarantulas. I can just imagine their heartbreak at being told that they are NOT cuddly. Or cute.
Beady arthropod eyes staring at me with resentment.
Sad, disillusioned, and hurt.
Unblinking.
I am at times a reserved creature, and find it hard to look directly at my interlocutors. It's an Asperger thing. I often have to check myself, realizing that I'm instinctively gazing down or sideways, which most people think of as shifty when they finally notice it. I'm certain that my newfound poisonous multi-legged friends would take it amiss.
Given their single-focus, they couldn't help but noticing.
Cats, raccoons, and squirrels wouldn't mind.
Too busy ripping the place apart.
Not poisonous, too.
As long as there were plenty of food and things to bounce off of, these small hyperactive furballs would consider that all the requirements of personal compatibility, ease of interaction, play, affection, and social support, where being met.
With humans, I'll just try to convince them that I am not a lizard or a newt. I'll repeat " I am human, just like the rest of you" with conviction.
Avoiding any sudden tongue movements.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
They don't even grunt, dammit.
Many years ago I woke up after a new years eve party with a large iguana on my chest, in my sweater. It decided in the middle of the night that I was significantly better than an electric rock, and had moved on in.
It would be a slight exaggeration to say that we bonded.
It just could not back out, because of its spines.
Nor move forward; my chin was in the way.
It just lay there, placidly blowing into my face.
Lizard breath. An herbivorous beast.
Thank goodness for that.
No digested rat.
"A relationship between a cat and a human can involve mutual attraction, personality compatibility, ease of interaction, play, affection and social support"
[Source: Cats bond with women -- and not just for food - NBC News.]
Other than it's fondness for the body temperature of the sleeping Dutchman, the iguana didn't have much personality.
While I was still living in a hellhole burb on the other side of San Francisco Bay (Berkeley), I had a cat that was always overjoyed to see me. She was a very lovable creature when asleep, but a veritable Hound of the Basker-villes among felines when awake. It was the only creature I ever had in my dwelling who could climb walls -- other than the squirrel who moved in when I was still in the Netherlands -- and it did so by sheer energy and insane determination. Three quarters of the way up it would loose its grip and fall, then whirl about the room bouncing off the furniture and the occupant.
As I said, lovable when at rest.
A terror otherwise.
Animals always take advantage of me. They recognize me as harmless and infinitely patient, tolerant of a very wide spectrum of opportunistic behaviour. Especially if they are small, cute, and cuddly. The iguana probably believed itself such, though, being a cold-blooded reptile, it may not have understood what "cute and cuddly" actually meant.
This explains why I will NEVER visit the desert or the tropical rainforests of Central America: scorpions and tarantulas. I can just imagine their heartbreak at being told that they are NOT cuddly. Or cute.
Beady arthropod eyes staring at me with resentment.
Sad, disillusioned, and hurt.
Unblinking.
I am at times a reserved creature, and find it hard to look directly at my interlocutors. It's an Asperger thing. I often have to check myself, realizing that I'm instinctively gazing down or sideways, which most people think of as shifty when they finally notice it. I'm certain that my newfound poisonous multi-legged friends would take it amiss.
Given their single-focus, they couldn't help but noticing.
Cats, raccoons, and squirrels wouldn't mind.
Too busy ripping the place apart.
Not poisonous, too.
As long as there were plenty of food and things to bounce off of, these small hyperactive furballs would consider that all the requirements of personal compatibility, ease of interaction, play, affection, and social support, where being met.
With humans, I'll just try to convince them that I am not a lizard or a newt. I'll repeat " I am human, just like the rest of you" with conviction.
Avoiding any sudden tongue movements.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Sunday, May 11, 2014
THE WRITTEN LIFE
A very good friend confesses herself completely baffled by my blog. Yes, this one. She hasn't a clue what I'm on about, and doesn't know what the point is.
Why am I writing this, she wonders, and what if any profound knowledge is imparted here? It all seems like so much random gibbering.
Well, precious goober, that's because it IS random gibbering.
Some blogs are single-subject, and obsessively delve into the author's field and fanaticism.
This blog doesn't do that.
It's a soapbox, mixed with memoir à clef, and self-advertisement.
I get to spout off about pipe-tobacco, Hong Kong style milk tea, politics (occasionally), food (often), crap I've read somewhere, favourite authors, amorous thoughts and a disquieting lack of amorous reality, gout, lizards, Chinese subjects, music, what an utter pestilent subject sports are as well as the loudness of football-watching yutzes in groups of more than a single person, pizza, and cigar smokers.
Primarily, I seek to keep my readers mildly entertained; the writing here is not good enough to keep them entranced. Neither the wit nor the eloquence are extraordinary.
Secondarily, this is a one-sided conversation; regular readers sometimes comment, more likely they go back to work after one paragraph.
I value their rare feedback.
It's also a calling card: this man is middle-aged chronologically, though quite spry in the mind. At least I think so. If you want to discuss this over coffee (or tea) and books, at a place where you can quietly admire my VanDyke beard and deep-set eyes, that's always an option.
And what do you plan to do when you graduate?
Save the planet, or the whales?
Chinatown, Hello Kitty, and the headhunting cannibals of Marin County are frequent subjects, noodles and fatty pork make regular appearances.
Manga sometimes gets mentioned. There are absolutely no pornographic photos anywhere here, that's what the rest of the internet is for.
Sometimes I say snarky things about rabbits.
Cigar smokers get short shrift.
So do blondes.
The various subjects that interest me are speckled throughout. History, languages, cooking, and self-indulgence with hot beverages. As well as herring, sensuality, animals, and strange social practices.
South-East Asia, North America, Europe.
Unidentified fried objects.
Chilies.
But there is no actual point here.
I'm not seeking converts.
Amusement only.
AFTER THOUGHT
By the way, since I purchased a Hello Kitty backpack to carry my pipes and tobacco in while out of the house, I've actually become somewhat fond of the saccharine feline. Previously I felt she was only an icky-poo creepazoid marketing pussy, now I can actually appreciate her expressionless visage as a bright and simplistic decorative element that appeals to the very young and childish; it makes them feel good.
I fear that some six-year old will try to steal my bag.
That's mine, you little thug, piss off!
I saw it first!
Pretty!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Why am I writing this, she wonders, and what if any profound knowledge is imparted here? It all seems like so much random gibbering.
Well, precious goober, that's because it IS random gibbering.
Some blogs are single-subject, and obsessively delve into the author's field and fanaticism.
This blog doesn't do that.
It's a soapbox, mixed with memoir à clef, and self-advertisement.
I get to spout off about pipe-tobacco, Hong Kong style milk tea, politics (occasionally), food (often), crap I've read somewhere, favourite authors, amorous thoughts and a disquieting lack of amorous reality, gout, lizards, Chinese subjects, music, what an utter pestilent subject sports are as well as the loudness of football-watching yutzes in groups of more than a single person, pizza, and cigar smokers.
Primarily, I seek to keep my readers mildly entertained; the writing here is not good enough to keep them entranced. Neither the wit nor the eloquence are extraordinary.
Secondarily, this is a one-sided conversation; regular readers sometimes comment, more likely they go back to work after one paragraph.
I value their rare feedback.
It's also a calling card: this man is middle-aged chronologically, though quite spry in the mind. At least I think so. If you want to discuss this over coffee (or tea) and books, at a place where you can quietly admire my VanDyke beard and deep-set eyes, that's always an option.
And what do you plan to do when you graduate?
Save the planet, or the whales?
Chinatown, Hello Kitty, and the headhunting cannibals of Marin County are frequent subjects, noodles and fatty pork make regular appearances.
Manga sometimes gets mentioned. There are absolutely no pornographic photos anywhere here, that's what the rest of the internet is for.
Sometimes I say snarky things about rabbits.
Cigar smokers get short shrift.
So do blondes.
The various subjects that interest me are speckled throughout. History, languages, cooking, and self-indulgence with hot beverages. As well as herring, sensuality, animals, and strange social practices.
South-East Asia, North America, Europe.
Unidentified fried objects.
Chilies.
But there is no actual point here.
I'm not seeking converts.
Amusement only.
AFTER THOUGHT
By the way, since I purchased a Hello Kitty backpack to carry my pipes and tobacco in while out of the house, I've actually become somewhat fond of the saccharine feline. Previously I felt she was only an icky-poo creepazoid marketing pussy, now I can actually appreciate her expressionless visage as a bright and simplistic decorative element that appeals to the very young and childish; it makes them feel good.
I fear that some six-year old will try to steal my bag.
That's mine, you little thug, piss off!
I saw it first!
Pretty!
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
GRITS AND TOFU
Like most Americans, I have a list of people who should be peacefully retired from public service and thereafter kept away from their desks,...
