Nine Life Metaphor
Kitten got it good. She shiny. She soft. She got the perfect black and white markings of cuteness. She got people. She got life.
Kitten does not appear to be in need of anything. One of those boy cats from her clan (same markings) was sniffing her up out there a minute ago and she turned around and batted boy cat upside his head, with impunity. Impunity, that mean no harm came back her way.
I saw a black cat up on the roof of Mr. Bunn's store and I wondered if it might be Shorty because she ain't around here no more. I don't think Shorty is dead because she survived too long to forget how to do it in just the few months I was gone. I did not spoil Shorty with too much food scrap because I figured that to be her death. I maybe spoil her a little though. So she could be dead. All science fiction aside and no offense to the imagined richness of your existence but it may be true that we all dead. So cheer up. If we all dead, Shorty lives.
I see the yellow bastard. And I see Johnny and Susie and I see Michael and Robert and…that lady on Romper Room never did once see me. I was always right there with my common name and she would just look right by me. Arlen and Cassius my ass.
Ain't no cats want to hang around here now with that Pentecostal lot all manicured. No place to hide from the evil that lurks. It sure is improved though. Man, property values just skyrocketing right through the roof. Right through the roof.
They be waiting to build that fence to see if I am going to sue them right back to the stone age (that'll cramp a body's style) for accidentally cutting down my little weed trees when they cut down those big shade trees. I ain't gonna sue nobody but maybe I will, I unpredictable. Crapshit. Who knew I was gonna say that? There a time period after which you can't sue a body and the day after that you will see a fence next door to me. They a wily bunch them Pentecostals. They also got the patience of Job, which ain't no big trick when you spend all your days in a church building. Affecting a religious metaphor I mean is the part that ain't a big deal.
I was doing the math a few days ago, counting up how many of my nine lives is left and I became discouraged after the count to six so I just quit counting and what a bunch of nonsense that is anyway. I mean what are the rules for determining the potentiality of your expirations? Nine lives my ass.
FRIENDS GOING TO N.O., ANY NEW THOUGHTS ON MUST EATS....
I don't know about about MUST Eat but they might try Liuzza's, on Bienville, Mid City, for a tasty, authentic, slightly overpriced NO experience. And Parasol's at Third and Constance I think, Irish Channel neighborhood across from Garden District for a nice hole in the wall experience. They somewhat famous for their roast beef po-boy. Me, I really like the five dollar plate lunches served out of Roberts Grocery Store at Canal and Carrollton.
He means to say Robért's. My favorite dining experience was buying a bag of crawfish, a bag of corn on the cob, and some beer, and then dining al fresco down by Audubon park.
I also recommend a Mid-City place that D and I dined at last year, which I blogged about somewhere on DMT.
Slightly off topic ...
Mr. Bill Tapped to Help Save La. Swamps
It's amazing that what started as a sick joke is now a lovable national character.
I find po boy's amazing. Who thought that up? Very similar to chip-butties, one of which I ate once in Nottingham, in my ex-boyfriend's mother's living room while watching telly. It's white bread with a 1/2-inch-thick spread of butter, wrapped around about 8 cold french fries. chest pain dining.
Al (Popeyes Fried Chicken) Copeland has/had a restaurant here, or Metairie actually, that I think was all "wrap" sandwiches, and had one, or so I am told, that was full of french fries.
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Kitten got it good. She shiny. She soft. She got the perfect black and white markings of cuteness. She got people. She got life.
Kitten does not appear to be in need of anything. One of those boy cats from her clan (same markings) was sniffing her up out there a minute ago and she turned around and batted boy cat upside his head, with impunity. Impunity, that mean no harm came back her way.
I saw a black cat up on the roof of Mr. Bunn's store and I wondered if it might be Shorty because she ain't around here no more. I don't think Shorty is dead because she survived too long to forget how to do it in just the few months I was gone. I did not spoil Shorty with too much food scrap because I figured that to be her death. I maybe spoil her a little though. So she could be dead. All science fiction aside and no offense to the imagined richness of your existence but it may be true that we all dead. So cheer up. If we all dead, Shorty lives.
I see the yellow bastard. And I see Johnny and Susie and I see Michael and Robert and…that lady on Romper Room never did once see me. I was always right there with my common name and she would just look right by me. Arlen and Cassius my ass.
Ain't no cats want to hang around here now with that Pentecostal lot all manicured. No place to hide from the evil that lurks. It sure is improved though. Man, property values just skyrocketing right through the roof. Right through the roof.
They be waiting to build that fence to see if I am going to sue them right back to the stone age (that'll cramp a body's style) for accidentally cutting down my little weed trees when they cut down those big shade trees. I ain't gonna sue nobody but maybe I will, I unpredictable. Crapshit. Who knew I was gonna say that? There a time period after which you can't sue a body and the day after that you will see a fence next door to me. They a wily bunch them Pentecostals. They also got the patience of Job, which ain't no big trick when you spend all your days in a church building. Affecting a religious metaphor I mean is the part that ain't a big deal.
I was doing the math a few days ago, counting up how many of my nine lives is left and I became discouraged after the count to six so I just quit counting and what a bunch of nonsense that is anyway. I mean what are the rules for determining the potentiality of your expirations? Nine lives my ass.
- jimlouis 1-21-2004 7:06 pm
FRIENDS GOING TO N.O., ANY NEW THOUGHTS ON MUST EATS....
- Skinny 1-22-2004 3:18 pm [add a comment]
I don't know about about MUST Eat but they might try Liuzza's, on Bienville, Mid City, for a tasty, authentic, slightly overpriced NO experience. And Parasol's at Third and Constance I think, Irish Channel neighborhood across from Garden District for a nice hole in the wall experience. They somewhat famous for their roast beef po-boy. Me, I really like the five dollar plate lunches served out of Roberts Grocery Store at Canal and Carrollton.
- jimlouis 1-22-2004 7:45 pm [add a comment]
He means to say Robért's. My favorite dining experience was buying a bag of crawfish, a bag of corn on the cob, and some beer, and then dining al fresco down by Audubon park.
I also recommend a Mid-City place that D and I dined at last year, which I blogged about somewhere on DMT.
Slightly off topic ... Mr. Bill Tapped to Help Save La. Swamps
- mark 1-22-2004 10:11 pm [add a comment]
It's amazing that what started as a sick joke is now a lovable national character.
- tom moody 1-22-2004 10:21 pm [add a comment]
I find po boy's amazing. Who thought that up? Very similar to chip-butties, one of which I ate once in Nottingham, in my ex-boyfriend's mother's living room while watching telly. It's white bread with a 1/2-inch-thick spread of butter, wrapped around about 8 cold french fries. chest pain dining.
- sally mckay 1-23-2004 5:52 am [add a comment]
Al (Popeyes Fried Chicken) Copeland has/had a restaurant here, or Metairie actually, that I think was all "wrap" sandwiches, and had one, or so I am told, that was full of french fries.
- jimlouis 1-24-2004 3:03 am [add a comment]