October 12th, 2002

I Will Not Defame New Orleans.

(no subject)

I work at Lounge Lizards on Friday nights, located on Decatur Street across from House 'o Corporate Blues. It's a nice way to break up my work week from my regular bar on Lower Decatur, and all the curious characters who grace/plague me with their perpetual presence.

Tonight rocked two times quick.

I met Wammo from the Asylum Street Spankers. Didn't even know with whom I was conversing until a friend clued me in. All I knew was that I was chatting it up with a fantastically funny and sharp bloke who performed free-verse poetry that scathed, and he lent me his big ten gallon hat to wear for a while. I was extra-super-excited to hear that he is currently working in tandem with one of my secret crushes, John S. Hall from King Missile, a band, I am proud to say, I have been following for many, many years. And I don't doooo that. I asked him, "Next time you talk to John, would you tell him you know a guy in New Orleans who … wants to go down on him?"

"He's kinda meek and shy," was the reply.


Then I was given an annoyingly-hard-to-come-by copy of Rock City Morgue's CD in order to forge a copy for Lizards' juke box. Of course, I'll be making a copy for me, and several hundred of my closest friends. (Nah, just kidding Sean and Rhoades, if y'all even read this.)

Patti came by after getting off work from Shim Sham. She's one of my oldest friends here, and we have vague-but-specific plans to procreate together. No, it's not about us "being together"; rather, that we think our baby would be totally cool, so let's make one.

Pamela, also from Shim Sham, came by, and we agreed to be Girlfriends, in the sense of having sleepovers where we will wear nighties and cuddle in bed and giggle and cry about our love lives. Maybe smuggle some Bartles & Jaymes into the room if mom isn't looking. Maybe experiment with our clitorises, if I can find mine. It might be in the attic, but those stairs are kinda rickety and they scare me.

Oh, and I also got to be mean to three reverse-tonsure-shaved Metairie boys tonight wearing beads and ordering stupid drinks. (Rum punch? Be a man, little man!)

Overall, great night. I likes me some Lounge Lizards. Anyone within spittin' distance really ought to pop by on Friday nights after 10 and see wazzup.