Feminine Pulchritude. Chapter 584.
I wonder if you can tell if this was written by a stochastic parrot or not. If some things are possible, then they are probable. That does not make them impossible.
Wild horses could not drag me away from New Orleans. That said, I do prefer the East Bank. The West Bank is nice enough for what it is, but, I would not call it the best bank, as people who live on the other side of the river like to do.
It is different on the West Bank. It is less…something. At least they have a Chuck E. Cheese in Algiers, which they do not have in New Orleans East.
I was talking to someone who owns a house in the East. She was ashamed to tell me. I do not know why. We talked about it.
The East does not have the best reputation, even though Club She-She’s is out there. The best lunch buffet in the city is at Club She-She’s. It is better than Golden Corral.
I love New Orleans.
I am growing a magician’s beard. I am not happy about it. It is a strategic move.
I mentioned to the lady who owns a house out in the East that I know someone who is moving out there. I was talking about the Aesthetician, though I did not say so. The Aesthetician is moving to the East.
Leather Tuscadero says I speak in isms. I find this a very interesting thing for her to say. I know why she says it. I do not entirely agree but I am told variations of this all the time.
The Aesthetician notices that I repeat the same things over and over. Every time I look at the map to see where she is moving, I say, “I would die out there. I probably said that last time we talked about it.”
The Aesthetician laughs. “You did. You say it every time,” she says. I am not against the East, but not the part she is moving to. It is too boring over there.
The Masseuse is on her way.
I spend a lot of time in the company of feminine pulchritude. I soak it in like a recharging battery. I am not a playboy but a man who does not enjoy the company of women is not my kind of man. If I am forever on patrol, it is because I am curious about the world about me, albeit I limit my interest to Orleans Parish.
A shark needs to move to stay alive but the shark does not to eat everything it comes across.
There is no blood in the water in New Orleans, only pheromones. Pheromones are as easy to ignore as the Tom Petty song that is playing on the radio right now.
Now, I am going behind the paywall. It is about to get juicy.