Act Like You Own the Place.

We are going to talk about names again. Are you ready?

What would you do if I sent you a post card from a place that does not exist?

If the numbers do not add up, try multiplying.

Elizabeth shines like a piece of flint. She is as sharp as a flake of obsidian. She is a graduate of the school of hard knocks and she does not take any guff. She and I get along.

Living in New Orleans is like looking at a painting in the Iron Age.

I know I am hard to follow but I know exactly what I am talking about. If you ask me a question, unlike Rudy, I can explain what I mean and what led me to say it the way I did. Actually, Rudy probably thinks the same way I do. We both live in a city atop layers and levels of sediment.

Monkey Hill is the highest point in New Orleans. I have never been to the Monkey Hill Bar. The Japanese lady who is into zentai hangs out there. That is where we were supposed to meet. What month was that? Check the archives, folks!

And, on that note, I am going to continue explaining what I am talking about behind the curtain. Try a month’s paid subscription and you may be tempted to never ride coach again.