Sunday, March 25, 2018

Elvis Wedding

  • A New Leaf
  • A Retro Post
  • 21 Dollar Saturday Night 

"Nathaniel," the first picture off the 16 gig drive...
I have finally gotten a version of Linux Ubuntu "17.10" installed upon this laptop.
Hopefully, I can come up to speed with it and be recording music and doing artwork with the editor (cartoons, at least). And, when my smartphone arrives within the next week, I should seamlessly transition into photo-intensive posting, making the blog more interesting...

A HellRide

So, I left the apartment around 5 PM, yesterday (Saturday, the 24th) to "scoot over to the WalMart 'superstore' real quick," to grab the 16 gig USB drive that had come in, and be back within the hour.

I was back 2 hours and 15 minutes later, making it to the Uxi Duxi just in time to grab a double shot of kratom before they locked the door at 8 PM.

I had had a 35 dollar Friday night.

I had gotten lost, and didn't realize it until I had come upon a Rouses Market that I had never seen before on Tcoupitoulous Street. That street has warehouse after warehouse and they all look similar enough that I had ridden about 3 miles in the wrong direction before coming upon the Rouses.

After the double shot of kratom, I stopped at Bobby's to get a 10 dollar bud of weed, regretting spending 10 bucks.

I waited until I got to the Lilly Pad before rolling it up, giving me a carrot in front of my nose as I pedaled toward there.

No sooner had I tuned up and smoked "one," than a well dressed early 30's couple came by and sat on Lilly's stoop. They seemed amused by the tiposaurus.

Then the guy said: "It would be cool if the tiposaurus smoked weed..." and then told me that they were from Baton Rouge and that they had not been able to locate any since they had gotten to Bourbon Street.

This being because they had entered it from the "quiet residential" end that a lot of people do; having located the street on their phones and found a place to park.

A lot of tourists come in from that Elysian Fields Street entrance and start to suspect that they are on the wrong Bourbon Street by the time they get to the Lilly Pad, having expected it to be more like it is on the "crazy" end of it that comes out on Canal Street.

I thought about the 10 dollar bud that I had gotten and how that was 5 dollars more than I like to spend on a given day.

"I'll tell you what, I'll just roll one up and smoke it with you," I said, after the guy said that he wanted to buy some, but didn't want to get ripped off, by purchasing oregano or fennel instead of weed.

I rolled it up, took a puff and then passed it to them, telling them to take their time and pass it back and forth between them, I had already smoked my tune-up joint.

Is there anybody out there?
They seemed to only take a couple puffs, before handing it back, and I'm not even sure they did that. The guy put a 20 dollar bill in my basket, the lady handed back the joint, and they went off.

I began to become paranoid at that point -one of the features of good weed- thinking that, if they were cops, then they would probably have faked taking a puff, and then would have handed me a "marked" bill, the serial number of which being recorded somewhere, to be used as evidence in a court of law.

As ridiculous as that seems, with weed being decriminalized here, and all.

They had been friendly and pretty cool and the lady seemed greatly pleased to have been able to get the one hit (for 20 bucks?) and I didn't sense any guile in the way they interacted.

Still, the paranoia made me shove the 20 into the body of one of my sharks, which sat on the sidewalk next to my tip basket, and not on my person. In a court of law, I would be able to beat the rap due to the sharks being on the sidewalk. "They were there when I got there, I just moved them to around my basket..."

This is the heightened sense of paranoia that is a trade-off for smoking good weed. I guess the one little hit had been enough to brighten the ladies outlook, for she then said: "You have to play us something!" to which I played my song "Crazy About A Crazy Girl,"

The song had quite an effect on them, with them insisting that the girl in the song described the lady to a tee. "That's my girlfriend, exactly," the gentleman said, giving her a squeeze.

They didn't stay to hear the whole song, which could have been another red flag for me.

I then had to weigh the risk of someone walking off with the plastic shark and me losing 20 bucks, against the risk of being busted with the marked bill in my pocket. But, they don't arrest people for weed here...maybe in Baton Rouge they do, though...
 
It was all weed based paranoia, and maybe another sign that, if something makes you feel paranoid then don't do it, type of thing...Eckhart Tolle material.
I wound up with 43 bucks after about 2 hours of playing, but, except for doubling my money on the 10 dollars sack of bud (while keeping 95% of it) it would have been a 23 dollar night.

Plus, once again, after the buzz wore off it left me devoid of any sense of having anything else "to add," musically, like I had wrung my brain out like a towel soaked in ideas. Another trade-off for smoking good weed.

An Old Post

A throw-back, retro post from 2009...
As I was backing things up preparing to totally wipe my disc clean and start from ground zero, or whatever the phrase is; I came across this, from when I was in Ocala, Florida; my girlfriend at the time, Karrie was in jail in St. Augustine and I was visiting with a friend, John Abel, who was getting ready to depart for Las Vegas to marry Ester, a Latina girl half his age who was quite a knockout to look at...
Their marriage lasted only about 2 years, and its decline can be retraced through old Facebook posts (with their mutual friends dropping off , one by one, etc...) But I remember asking John if they were going to be married by an Elvis impersonator, to which he replied: "No, I thought about that, but..."
The reasons that he gave which led to his decision not to were lost on me, because I was in astonishment over the fact that he had "thought" about it, I recall. I figured that would have gone something like below, and probably wouldn't have given them any impetus to stay wed any longer than they wound up being...

From 2009:

Plus, more on John's Wedding, which he decided NOT to have performed by an Elvis impersonator, even though he "thought about it." He thought about it??? He's joking, isn't he??


Elvis: "Do you John, promise to not be cruel, and to love Ester "tender?"


John: "I do"


Elvis: "Ester, if John is in sickness, or poorer, or the Kentucky rain is pouring down; Is that alright, Mama?"


Ester: "It is."


Elvis: "John, are you a hunk of burnin' love for Ester?"


John: "I am."


Elvis "Will you be Ester's teddy bear?"


John: "I will."


Elvis: "Then, by the power invested in me, as the King of Rock -n- Roll I now pronounce you all hooked up! (hey, hey hey!)


 I wonder if this book can make me funnier...

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