I am changing the oil in Leather Tuscadero’s car tomorrow. It needs to be in good running order if we are going to that midget wrestling bout in Chalmette on April 30. This is going to be the best Jazz Fest ever! Get your tickets now.
I do not need to make anything up.
Punk Barbie learned that I am going to change Leather’s oil. That is not a euphemism for something else. Leather and I don’t like to touch. We each think the other one has cooties. I am changing the oil in her car. She drives a real jalopy.
Punk Barbie was surprised that I can do actual, useful things. “You can change the oil in a car?” she asked, astounded.
Yes. I can. I can do many things that I do not do every day. I did not hatch out of an egg last week. I have more skills than doing whatever it is that I do.
What do I do? It is a blue science.
I had breakfast with a lady who was wearing blue shoes. We were on the corner of Royal and Clouet Streets.
You should become a paid subscriber. I am about to talk about Mrs. King.