touché
I've waited a long time to be able to correct Mr. Grammar, or Alex In California, as readers may know him...
It feels just about as satisfying as I have imagined it would, and I sense that this might usher in a turning point for this blog. To have been the butt of his jokes over my past transgressions from proper English (some of which having been the unwanted side-effects of undoing an action or something) for so long, such as when I used "weather," instead of "whether," or spelled "reveille," "revelry" and to now be able to point out to Mr. G that I had intentionally used a homonym and to be able to add that that is not something that we here in the south eat for breakfast with cheese, bacon, green onions and poached eggs...priceless!!
A Cartoon
I'm not sure how funny it is, or if it's just funny to me. Doing it was like writing down a dream upon waking up; otherwise I would have probably forgotten it, type of thing...
Some of my facility with the GIMP image editor was there -the skills that are like riding a bike," at least and I was able to turn this idea that I got on my way to the Uxi Duxi into this cartoon in a matter of about 45 minutes...
A Short Video
I'm not sure how funny it is, or if it's just funny to me; you know the drill...
11 Dollar Sunday Night
I could tell by the time I was riding down Royal Street on my way to the Lilly Pad that most of the people in town for the French Quarter Music Festival had vacated -probably had to be at work in the morning; so as to be able to afford to go to music festivals.
I was early.
I had been thinking of being very early, something like 3:30 PM, but had gotten busy with this blog and a few other things but still managed to make it to the Lilly Pad by around 8:30 PM.
There was a guy not far from my spot playing a small stringed instrument, perhaps a miniature guitar, whom I wasn't sure I recognized.
I started to set up my spot and noticed that he was playing "Candyman," by the Grateful Dead. There were 3 young ladies listening to him, one of them repeatedly exclaimed "You sound good!," making me wonder if it was a girlfriend of his who was hanging out and, sensing that his territory was about to be encroached upon, was laying the groundwork for establishing his right to be there.
But, it turned out to be a guy whom I had seen there before, who had turned over the spot to me then, and who did the same thing, saying: "I know this is your spot."
When he asked me if he could hit my "tune-up joint" was when the recognition had set in.
It could be a good thing if he were to make a habit of playing the spot (warding off others) and of turning it over to me when I arrive at the cost of a couple tokes of weed.
I only made 11 bucks, but was pretty happy with that, since I had shown up with nothing but a few pennies on me, and it felt like I had somehow gotten blood out of a stone, given the subdued, out of money vibes that I was getting from the tourists.
I've waited a long time to be able to correct Mr. Grammar, or Alex In California, as readers may know him...
It feels just about as satisfying as I have imagined it would, and I sense that this might usher in a turning point for this blog. To have been the butt of his jokes over my past transgressions from proper English (some of which having been the unwanted side-effects of undoing an action or something) for so long, such as when I used "weather," instead of "whether," or spelled "reveille," "revelry" and to now be able to point out to Mr. G that I had intentionally used a homonym and to be able to add that that is not something that we here in the south eat for breakfast with cheese, bacon, green onions and poached eggs...priceless!!
A Cartoon
I'm not sure how funny it is, or if it's just funny to me. Doing it was like writing down a dream upon waking up; otherwise I would have probably forgotten it, type of thing...
Some of my facility with the GIMP image editor was there -the skills that are like riding a bike," at least and I was able to turn this idea that I got on my way to the Uxi Duxi into this cartoon in a matter of about 45 minutes...
A Short Video
I'm not sure how funny it is, or if it's just funny to me; you know the drill...
11 Dollar Sunday Night
I could tell by the time I was riding down Royal Street on my way to the Lilly Pad that most of the people in town for the French Quarter Music Festival had vacated -probably had to be at work in the morning; so as to be able to afford to go to music festivals.
I was early.
I had been thinking of being very early, something like 3:30 PM, but had gotten busy with this blog and a few other things but still managed to make it to the Lilly Pad by around 8:30 PM.
There was a guy not far from my spot playing a small stringed instrument, perhaps a miniature guitar, whom I wasn't sure I recognized.
I started to set up my spot and noticed that he was playing "Candyman," by the Grateful Dead. There were 3 young ladies listening to him, one of them repeatedly exclaimed "You sound good!," making me wonder if it was a girlfriend of his who was hanging out and, sensing that his territory was about to be encroached upon, was laying the groundwork for establishing his right to be there.
But, it turned out to be a guy whom I had seen there before, who had turned over the spot to me then, and who did the same thing, saying: "I know this is your spot."
When he asked me if he could hit my "tune-up joint" was when the recognition had set in.
It could be a good thing if he were to make a habit of playing the spot (warding off others) and of turning it over to me when I arrive at the cost of a couple tokes of weed.
I only made 11 bucks, but was pretty happy with that, since I had shown up with nothing but a few pennies on me, and it felt like I had somehow gotten blood out of a stone, given the subdued, out of money vibes that I was getting from the tourists.
I don't know .. I wonder if I could make a go of things there? I guess I'd have to start out by sleeping under the dock where the steamship Nachez docks, then go see the local vet center about my half-assed vet status ... I'd have to learn "Eentsy Weentsy Spider" on my trumpet too... except that I've decided that while I may have made myself a just-barely-competent trumpeter out of sheer stubbornness, I may have a knack for drumming and am looking at pursuing that - I can certainly keep it up longer, 2 hours is about my max on trumpet and is pushing it day in and day out.
ReplyDeleteI mean, we've both got about the same thing, except I'm having to work 20 hours a week to have my unfinished as of now loft, and you've got a real apartment and food money and don't have to work for it. Who's the smarter one here?
I've read over your (very poor) writing and there's a possibility that you were making a pun there.
ReplyDeleteYou don't seem smart enough to make puns, but I can't eliminate the possibility.
Also, the beloved Lilly shouts homophobic shit? Maybe the two of you deserve each other.
Between you and Lilly, I'm almost happy your hero Donald Trump wants to tighten up on hand-outs.
Lilly hates Trump with a passion, I wonder if our love could endure my telling her who I would have voted for (if I hadn't pled guilty to writing a worthless check over 500 dollars in Florida -which is a "5th degree" felony there- and thereby forfeited that right).
ReplyDeleteWhat a brainwashing job the media and rest of Donald's foes did on a lot of people who ultimately wouldn't matter because they wouldn't vote; they would sit in front of their TV's saying: "Can you believe this shit?!?" as the results came in.
"I brought two beautiful daughters into this world!" Lilly would yell at the decadent festival gays as they walked past her stoop, where she sat sipping wine.
"That's wonderful, we're happy for you! To each his own," would return most of them.
But, if that's homophobic shit, then the shoe fits. I'm just glad I'm on her good side.
If Trump tightens up too much, there will be rioting in the streets and he'll have to declare Martial Law and send the best army in the world in to whittle down the ranks of the entitled, and reduce taxpayer burden that way.
There are "now hiring" signs up all over the place here, so the egocentric, racist bigot must be doing something right. But I logged in to post a poorly written piece, I'll save the politics for a forthcoming editorial.
The pretty Latina cashiers at the Ideal Market look at my food stamp card like I pulled a piece of dried dog shit out of my pocket, while their undocumented husbands are up on roofs somewhere pocketing at least a grand a week of untaxed money, and coming by to pick them up after work in brand new tricked out Ford pickups with extended cabs, to accommodate their kids in their brand new sneakers, poking at their brand new i-phone 8's, who are U.S. citizens through birth and in whose name the truck is probably registered...
I guess they associate the food stamp card with laziness, rather than a demonstration of a persons ability to play the system for all it's worth, which they would admire.
You know, I was gonna let this all slide until you started in on the Mexicans. I fucking love Mexicans.
ReplyDeleteI love Mexicans, too, that's why I go to the Ideal Market; but I'm just saying they are masters at finding loopholes and playing the system...
ReplyDeleteA dozen or so used to take advantage of a $99 "move in special" in Jacksonville, where all 12 of them would live for the 6 months that they knew they could before the sheriff could be called to evict them (having children makes evicting more complicated) and all of them would work under the table for like 180 bucks cash per day, share food and Corona costs, never pay the landlord, and then look around for another low priced move-in special and...
let's see, almost 2 grand per day coming in the door, 10 grand a week, 24 grand over the course of their stay, so they send 50 thousand US dollars back to a bank in Mexico City, and after a few years of doing this, they move back into a mansion in Mexico and are retired and independently wealthy...I don't fault them in a sense because they are working their butts off the whole year or two...but, just saying, close the loopholes so they don't burden the taxpayers; what happens when they fall off the roof; an ambulance takes them to a hospital where they get top notch medical care; send the bill to their last address, I guess...