Tenderlings

Today I had several missions. To most people my missions are merely the daily duties of ingrained hygiene. But most people do not know the deliciousness that is cheese.

I bought a lot of cheese.

Then I had to take the bus. I was feeling good with my bus pass in one hand, swinging a bag full of cheese in the other, but just as I settled into my dairy fueled stupor, I saw them. Uniformed children.

Like a flood gate had opened and children dressed in plaid skirts and over-sized, over-dyed blazers were vomited out and no one had the decency to put up a !cuidado! piso mojado!

There is nothing novel, nothing reassuring about the future when this scene rushes into your life. Mostly, you want shelter and warmth but you are ambushed from all angles. You are othered. Read this in all the faces of adults, suddenly shuddering at the mere thought of sexual reproduction.

It upsets the power-balance. It is temporary. Maybe it is all just a moment that is fleeting faster than you can fight it and in the end it will remain as a vague memory, smelling fondly of cheese.

---End Thought---

---New Thought---

I am not excited about calling people anymore. It's lost all appeal. I'd prefer to spend my last days in Liverpool doing what I do well: Conducting Rambunctious Dinner Conversations.

This Volcano spewing ash upset my application. Should never have trusted fedex. The only truly reliable messengers are pigeons not airplanes.