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I made dumplings tonight to go with the turkey soup from Thanksgiving. Of course, they were delicious. I have a dumpling talent, what can I say? The real reason for making them, of course, is to run around screeching “Mit Dooompleengs” in my German accent. As a side note, let me admit all my accents, German, British, Sexy Vampire, Sassy French Maid, all of them sound sort of like Boris Badenov. It’s not that I’m unaware of this, it’s just that I don’t care. Thank you.

Also of course, the menu allows me to address both R Man and Saki the Evil and Adorable Cat as Mein Little Dumpling. It’s amazing how they both get the same look on their faces when I do so.
And then, I was looking for a picture of a naughty German pussy boy (hopefully in lederhosen) to go with this post when I ran across these photos. Why ask how? It’s the interweb.
Yes, they’re icky; the schmoe had gotten a Vietanmese massage that included cupping where they stick cups filled with hot air on your skin because of evil spirits or excessive farting or who knows what. I was struck by them because I once ran across the exact same ickiness at the tubs here. A very attractive muscle lad and I were passing the time and when he turned around (yes, we were naked at the tubs and he turned around. Connect the dots.) I was treated to a closeup view of what looked like the tail end of some plague victim. He swore it was some ancient Asian medical treatment; I swore if he didn’t get out of my room, he was going to need some even more aggressive medical intervention.
Oh, l’amour.
But wait, there’s more:
Muscley lederhosen. Thank you, thankyou very much.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

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