2006 Notebook: Weak XLIV
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30 October 2006
No. 3,153 (cartoon)
I’m not fit to sleep with swine.

That’s not true; you certainly are.

31 October 2006
Tricks With Guns
Oh dear, nine people were shot during this year’s Halloween debauchery in San Francisco. I think it’s wonderful that people are enjoying this delightfully pagan holiday, but I think some people are taking the trick-or-treat bits too seriously. I’m looking forward to more treats and fewer tricks next year, but one day really doesn’t matter much in the context of the greater statisticsphere. After all, every day is Halloween in San Francisco.

1 November 2006
A Curious Necrology
I received a mailing from Greenpeace that noted the demise of someone I never knew when I worked with that curious organization. I’ll remember the notice because it’s one of the best obituaries I’ll ever read.

    David Kamlish passed away in Thailand on or about October 26, 2006. About five years ago he moved to Pattaya, Thailand, where he continued his lively pursuit of young women and cultural understanding.

The curious necrology reminded me of flying to Thailand with Beryl toward the end of the last millennium. She transformed a routine flight into a creepy experience by asking if I’d wondered which of our fellow passengers were sex tourists.

I hadn’t.

Until then.

2 November 2006
Valerie’s Autobiomythography
Over lunch, Valerie mentioned in passing that she’s working on her autobiomythography. Or it may have been someone else’s autobiomythography; I can’t remember. I was so excited at learning a new word that I forgot the details.

3 November 2006
Scandalous Methamphetamine Massages
Oh dear, a conservative religious fanatic resigned his lucrative post at a profitable religious corporation after admitting that he engaged in activities that were inconsistent with his rants. The man of the cloth, who raises lots of money from xenophobes by railing against homosexual unions, is in fact not so narrow-minded in his private life. A male prostitute reports that the zealot has regularly paid him for methamphetamine and sex for three years.

And this is where the story becomes ambiguous. The bigot admitted to buying drugs from the accuser, but claimed the man only gave him massages. I suppose it’s a matter of what was massaged and how, but those are details I don’t need to know. For now, it’s enough to enjoy the schadenfreude of another hateful hypocrite getting his comeuppance.

4 November 2006
A Spam Omelette Speaks for Itself
Noreen invited me to join her and a few friends at Peter’s Cafe in Millbrae, a nondescript municipality south of San Francisco’s airport. Even though the restaurant was geographically close, I knew from the bottles of ketchup (catsup?) on every formica table that I was back in the United States.

With glee and wonder, I pointed out to Noreen that the “Aloha Sunrise” portion of the menu featured delicacies such a spam omelette, “topped with brown gravy.”

(Hawaiians eat more spam per capita than any other Americans, hence the “Aloha” reference.)

“You’re going to snigger about this with all your hoity-toity San Francisco, aren’t you?” Noreen asked rhetorically.

“Sort of,” I admitted. “There’s not really much to say, though; a spam omelette in brown gravy more or less speaks for itself.”

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©2006 David Glenn Rinehart