Looking For An Old Photo

I heard that Donald Trump actually has a daughter named Tiffany, and that she was named after the jewelry store that was next to Trump Tower.

Ellen Degeneres joked that the girl will never know how close she came to having the name "Buffalo Wild Wings Trump."

I should square her cheeks more, and put her in a Yankee's cap, when I have time one of these weekends...

 I Googled it, and this is the actual Tiffany Trump (left), and she is back to law school, according to reports.

It is Tuesday night.

Last night, there was a game in the Superdome, between the Saints and the Washington Redskins.

It might have been an opportunity for me to stand at a spot that I like outside the stadium and play "When The Saints Go Marching In," on guitar and harmonica, vigorously, for the twenty minutes or so that it takes the stadium to empty out after a game. But it was raining.

I can remember picking up a quick 35 bucks on a typical game day doing that.

I am almost at a fork in the road where I will either have to approach busking from a more professional angle -set up at the Lilly Pad when it is still daylight, and when tourists walking past can see the artwork I have for sale next to me, and the CD's that I will hopefully have soon, maybe be able to scan a bar-code on their phones to be able to find more of my stuff online for a buck a song or something. And, have a list of about a thousand songs that I could play, so that I wouldn't run out of material. And then, I would have to keep going after darkness falls, and all the way through the midnight-til-2 AM rush which is all I wind up playing lately.

Or, to fork the other way and try to get a job at Trader Joe's, where money would be guaranteed in exchange for hours spent working, and then I could spend a lot of time in my studio, and busk only if I wanted to, perhaps to test out some equipment like Tanya Huang uses, which would be easier for me to buy out of checks that might come every two weeks.

I might as well listen to Bobby from building C on the second head and try to find something "under the table," so as to retain the free status of my apartment, and have "extra" money to use as I will.

It would suck to have to work for five bucks an hour, after paying rent for a place that I never had to before, complacency sets in. Though, that might spur me to light a fire under the asses of the maintenance guys at Sacred Heart and get my toilet and my heating and air unit fixed.

Ten years ago, before I knew how to Photoshop

There are usually brand new heating and air units sitting in the lobby of the place, waiting to go into apartments other than mine. Because mine is still working.

I have to remove the cover and flip the switch on and then shut it off an hour later when it is starting to get too chilly inside, as evidenced by Harold the cat removing himself to the bedroom, but it "works."

I wouldn't be surprised if other residents have figured out how to sabotage the things, maybe to burn out their motors somehow, in order to get a brand new one with a digital display that more resembles the 21st century, than the one I have with the display that looks "so nineteen eighties."

Well, I'm not getting any cat videos produced by sitting here and blogging...