Tour de Farce
So, this was the first day of the downtown farmers market.And it's pretty big. There was a time - (the fmarkets were small and neighbourhood) - when I had the idea that a downtown fmarket could gather right along and underneath the long, land-portion of one of the bridges. Tents could set up along the two sides of this cavernous hallway street thing, and people could walk right up and down the middle. And it was right next to this little park and sports area.
Well, this current downtown market actually stretches from a main street, with its own bridge, all the way down to that area! And it goes under that bridge, even. It's got 4-5 lines of tents and trucks stretching from street to street. Lots of food trucks, some bad food, some with very loud generators. Virtually no veggies, except for a single table, where I bought a tiny bag of baby spinach and a tiny bag of basil for $6. SNAP couldn't help me, as their WiFI wasn't up. But, it's good to know they'll be there, doubling the value of every dollar. Which is a fair deal.
Before all this, I did go to the Peruvian cafe, but I guess it isn't opened yet, despite all the chairs outside. So, I crossed the river and went back to the Mexican restaurant I visitted last Friday. Same meal. A black bean soft-corn taco with a black Modelo for only $6+ - same I would have paid for a salad from Subway. Very good, esp. the beer. Which wasn't good for my low BP brain, but I survived. I would post the link, but it's local and I am strict on internet privacy.
This was a different girl waiting on me, at the Mexican cafe. We seemed to like each other. She had a somewhat Olmec head, with an Asian feel, but not quite as big as an actual Olmec head. Smaller, in fact. It was attractive like jade is attractive. She was nice, nice person. Most Mexicans are.
Although I was walking around in a fog of fatigue, pain and effort, it again occurred to me that I could get a girl, if I wanted to. I just wouldn't know what to do with her. Do you plant them? If I got into a relationship with a girl-woman sort, I would be expected to become normal - not lie around with CFS, not struggle to catch precious thoughts and arrange them online, not wear a maxipad two days in a a row.
I would be expected to somehow magically have a job, a life, and a car. And a bumper crop of expendable cash as big as Lizo's limousine. Because, you know, people were invented so that businesses could make money. And going to cafes, buying houses, going on vacations, running cocaine and guns, and putting money into banks, is what relationships are all about. I would be expected to suddenly stop thinking about the Great Reset attack on our bloodstream, and power grid, or the inevitable incoming megakilotonne bomm destined to destroy this city. How could that even be possible for me?
I don't see it.
Russia is giving free land to Christian farmers from the West. I could fake that and make it. I could bring along some model from that Ukraine singles site. And then I'd sit there, and say, "I can either spend time making you giggle, or I can start putting large blocks of stone on top of other large blocks of stone. In either case, it would take me a month to recover, in order to start again. Are you sure you want to do this?"
And she'll be making potato wine and sending it downstream to the town below and becoming a millionaire, and won't even hear me.
During the fmarket, I passed one booth a second time - a popcorn tent. I look fondly on popcorn tents. All you have to do is get a decent popper, and a little else, and you can make beaucoups bucks, if people feel like eating popcorn. Which they will, because these aren't really farmers markets, they are evening parties that go until at least 8:30pm. And there are lots of trucks and tents selling alcohol.
This time, the girl in the tent smiled at me, and that made me notice her, so I gave a painful smile back, and I think she got mad. These,the limits of our relationship.
She was black, and seemingly cute. And I will think about ideas I've had in the past, about selling special invented treats at farmers markets. And maybe ask her if she want me to help. And we'll sell ketchup. And her name will be Barb. And July 4th will be very special to us. And we will raise 5 magazine editors. And one child will be locked away in Guantanamo. And one will accidentally shoot Lizo.
I didn't want to buy popcorn because I already eat popcorn - to save money. Why would I now spend on expensive popcorn even if it's wonderful? I am eating popcorn even as I type.
Some more formerly attired lanky hot woman seemed also to want me to approach her table. But it didn't really seem to be set up, really. And it was a credit union, which isn't normally part of my diet. She was way off at the end. But, you know what? We should talk to credit unions more often. Don't you think?
She may have sensed some kind of "I-don't-know-whaaaaaaat," eh?
I must say, downtown is really noisy, now. And brash and uncertain. Office people have become an entirely different species, and they are now hiding inside and burrowing underground. There was a day when I wanted to escape from this then-boring city, to where there was more noise, and lights, and excitement. And, now, this city has kind-of become what I wanted, back then.
Except, now I don't like it. It's a bother on every corner. And they're trying to make this phat city more green and more woke, and all it's doing is making the urban residents get more noisy and outrageous. You don't know what goes on behind the eyes of some f-ed' up urban narcissists, walking down the street. One guy walked by wearing a colourful African dress - like a dress - and then made pretentious eyes to heaven, acting like he knew what I thought, and this only proved his importance. I was just tired.
Same with gf of narcissist, next-door. Comes outside w/ her dog, at the time she knows I am out w/ my dog, and she stares at me. Who knows wtf is wrong with these people. They're all living the same damn drama.
I liked the fmarkets of the town I was living in a few years ago. Got to know the down-home farmer people. Some of them were rude and a little dull. But the people in this city are also rude, in more refined, and smaller, yet larger, ways. Everyone here has some kind of inferiority thing tying them into the rest of the city, it seems. In the last town, the country people, at least, were largely loose canons. I kind of like the latter. Because they are still open to being further educated. Woke, or urbane, people are not. Not in the way I am talking about.
But, there is more education in this city. More educated people packed in closer together, disrespecting each other worse than a lot of rats. I remembered this place as where no one understands the concept of respect, and it's gotten worse since then. But - I am glad of one thing. When a body talks, most people catch what it is saying. They go with the flow. They grab out for related ideas. This is a good thing. I like it. I can talk fast again, w/o embarrassment.
But, we all know about the people who do talk fast, but say nothing. Only meaning to stun, as they pick pockets.
There's this element of talking faster, catching all the concepts, but there isn't always so much trust going around? At least until you, yourself, do something demonstrable. Everybody's waiting. Anticipating. For some kind of saviour of some sort. It's sad. All of this will be gone, one day. And people like the man next door are enraptured by petty games of competition and dominance.
Yankees. Damn Yankees.
All the great writers fly south.
I remember, years ago, going into this new cafe, downtown, here. The name was, "Brioche," or such. (I am flubbing). I said the name sounded naked - at least in French. It needed a prepositional, a, or la, in front of the name. Now, the restaurant has, "a'Brioche," painted on its window.
I also once described my idea of a walkway going all the way down, underneath, that high bridge I mentioned. To an architect friend. (I took architecture in HS! - She was also gf to a wild and crazy best friend). She got an architectural firm she knew to design my idea, and it was actually built. So, I do have influence. I like how I quietly, "make things happen". And get out before the violence.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTFIzLKaZj4
Well, this current downtown market actually stretches from a main street, with its own bridge, all the way down to that area! And it goes under that bridge, even. It's got 4-5 lines of tents and trucks stretching from street to street. Lots of food trucks, some bad food, some with very loud generators. Virtually no veggies, except for a single table, where I bought a tiny bag of baby spinach and a tiny bag of basil for $6. SNAP couldn't help me, as their WiFI wasn't up. But, it's good to know they'll be there, doubling the value of every dollar. Which is a fair deal.
Before all this, I did go to the Peruvian cafe, but I guess it isn't opened yet, despite all the chairs outside. So, I crossed the river and went back to the Mexican restaurant I visitted last Friday. Same meal. A black bean soft-corn taco with a black Modelo for only $6+ - same I would have paid for a salad from Subway. Very good, esp. the beer. Which wasn't good for my low BP brain, but I survived. I would post the link, but it's local and I am strict on internet privacy.
This was a different girl waiting on me, at the Mexican cafe. We seemed to like each other. She had a somewhat Olmec head, with an Asian feel, but not quite as big as an actual Olmec head. Smaller, in fact. It was attractive like jade is attractive. She was nice, nice person. Most Mexicans are.
Although I was walking around in a fog of fatigue, pain and effort, it again occurred to me that I could get a girl, if I wanted to. I just wouldn't know what to do with her. Do you plant them? If I got into a relationship with a girl-woman sort, I would be expected to become normal - not lie around with CFS, not struggle to catch precious thoughts and arrange them online, not wear a maxipad two days in a a row.
I would be expected to somehow magically have a job, a life, and a car. And a bumper crop of expendable cash as big as Lizo's limousine. Because, you know, people were invented so that businesses could make money. And going to cafes, buying houses, going on vacations, running cocaine and guns, and putting money into banks, is what relationships are all about. I would be expected to suddenly stop thinking about the Great Reset attack on our bloodstream, and power grid, or the inevitable incoming megakilotonne bomm destined to destroy this city. How could that even be possible for me?
I don't see it.
Russia is giving free land to Christian farmers from the West. I could fake that and make it. I could bring along some model from that Ukraine singles site. And then I'd sit there, and say, "I can either spend time making you giggle, or I can start putting large blocks of stone on top of other large blocks of stone. In either case, it would take me a month to recover, in order to start again. Are you sure you want to do this?"
And she'll be making potato wine and sending it downstream to the town below and becoming a millionaire, and won't even hear me.
During the fmarket, I passed one booth a second time - a popcorn tent. I look fondly on popcorn tents. All you have to do is get a decent popper, and a little else, and you can make beaucoups bucks, if people feel like eating popcorn. Which they will, because these aren't really farmers markets, they are evening parties that go until at least 8:30pm. And there are lots of trucks and tents selling alcohol.
This time, the girl in the tent smiled at me, and that made me notice her, so I gave a painful smile back, and I think she got mad. These,the limits of our relationship.
She was black, and seemingly cute. And I will think about ideas I've had in the past, about selling special invented treats at farmers markets. And maybe ask her if she want me to help. And we'll sell ketchup. And her name will be Barb. And July 4th will be very special to us. And we will raise 5 magazine editors. And one child will be locked away in Guantanamo. And one will accidentally shoot Lizo.
I didn't want to buy popcorn because I already eat popcorn - to save money. Why would I now spend on expensive popcorn even if it's wonderful? I am eating popcorn even as I type.
Some more formerly attired lanky hot woman seemed also to want me to approach her table. But it didn't really seem to be set up, really. And it was a credit union, which isn't normally part of my diet. She was way off at the end. But, you know what? We should talk to credit unions more often. Don't you think?
She may have sensed some kind of "I-don't-know-whaaaaaaat," eh?
I must say, downtown is really noisy, now. And brash and uncertain. Office people have become an entirely different species, and they are now hiding inside and burrowing underground. There was a day when I wanted to escape from this then-boring city, to where there was more noise, and lights, and excitement. And, now, this city has kind-of become what I wanted, back then.
Except, now I don't like it. It's a bother on every corner. And they're trying to make this phat city more green and more woke, and all it's doing is making the urban residents get more noisy and outrageous. You don't know what goes on behind the eyes of some f-ed' up urban narcissists, walking down the street. One guy walked by wearing a colourful African dress - like a dress - and then made pretentious eyes to heaven, acting like he knew what I thought, and this only proved his importance. I was just tired.
Same with gf of narcissist, next-door. Comes outside w/ her dog, at the time she knows I am out w/ my dog, and she stares at me. Who knows wtf is wrong with these people. They're all living the same damn drama.
I liked the fmarkets of the town I was living in a few years ago. Got to know the down-home farmer people. Some of them were rude and a little dull. But the people in this city are also rude, in more refined, and smaller, yet larger, ways. Everyone here has some kind of inferiority thing tying them into the rest of the city, it seems. In the last town, the country people, at least, were largely loose canons. I kind of like the latter. Because they are still open to being further educated. Woke, or urbane, people are not. Not in the way I am talking about.
But, there is more education in this city. More educated people packed in closer together, disrespecting each other worse than a lot of rats. I remembered this place as where no one understands the concept of respect, and it's gotten worse since then. But - I am glad of one thing. When a body talks, most people catch what it is saying. They go with the flow. They grab out for related ideas. This is a good thing. I like it. I can talk fast again, w/o embarrassment.
But, we all know about the people who do talk fast, but say nothing. Only meaning to stun, as they pick pockets.
There's this element of talking faster, catching all the concepts, but there isn't always so much trust going around? At least until you, yourself, do something demonstrable. Everybody's waiting. Anticipating. For some kind of saviour of some sort. It's sad. All of this will be gone, one day. And people like the man next door are enraptured by petty games of competition and dominance.
Yankees. Damn Yankees.
All the great writers fly south.
I remember, years ago, going into this new cafe, downtown, here. The name was, "Brioche," or such. (I am flubbing). I said the name sounded naked - at least in French. It needed a prepositional, a, or la, in front of the name. Now, the restaurant has, "a'Brioche," painted on its window.
I also once described my idea of a walkway going all the way down, underneath, that high bridge I mentioned. To an architect friend. (I took architecture in HS! - She was also gf to a wild and crazy best friend). She got an architectural firm she knew to design my idea, and it was actually built. So, I do have influence. I like how I quietly, "make things happen". And get out before the violence.
Click to viewhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTFIzLKaZj4