Tori Amos, honorary local?

She's classier than the legion of celebrity attention whores who've made a grand show of throwing their lot in with my hometown while boasting only a tenuous connection to back up their claims. Unlike certain other celebrities, she doesn't collect Third World children in the style of a crazy old cat lady.

Just fukken around on teh Intarweb, and what do I find?



A couple years back, Tori was posing for photos damn close to where I work. (If you know me, you know where it is. If you don't, figure it out for yourself).

As far as I know, she's never lived here, but George Porter, Jr. played on some of her albums and over a decade ago, she was kicking around Breaux Bridge (Lafayette's answer to Chalmette, where the boys "clean up pretty good" according to my neighbor the Rooster -- and I'm sure Kevyn Aucoin would have agreed). Even so, it's a connection that's not often pointed out.

Well, why *shouldn't* conjual visits apply to buttsex?

Right on sister!
http://www.reuters.com/article/lifestyleMolt/idUSN0134740420070602
(Stupid Blogger doesn't want to work with Opera, and I'm too drunk to work around it.)

Everything I needed to know in life...

…I learned in a Chinese prison:

• Never Give Up Hope
  
• Scale Down Expectations
  
• Create a Routine
  
• Get Physical
  
• Keep a Secret Space for Yourself
  
• Remember that a Brain Cannot be Washed
  
• Care for Each Other
  
• Find Humor Where You Can
  
• Be Patient

If there is any hope, it lies with Ed Blakely

"Forget Baghdad. Rebuild New Orleans." So I've seen on a number of bumper stickers around town. Ed Blakely seems to be the only person with any power right now who's honest and brave enough to extend the analogy. New Orleans is insular, fractious, corrupt, violent, and incompetent -- just like most Third World countries.

When New Orleans comes in for well-deserved criticism, the standard reply makes some appeal to "uniqueness", as if music, cuisine, and idiosyncratic customs somehow make up for the kleptocrats, poverty pimps, and mau-maus who for the past 25 years have steered New Orleans to its current position. I've no doubt the mayor and half the City Council will serve up more of the same tired excuses and get very huffy about Blakely's comments. Don't apologize, Mr. Blakely -- you called it.

The gin and tonic just creeps up on ya

Especially on a (mostly) empty stomach. I was lucky to evade a gin-related mishap at Mimi's last night. However, I did wake up this morning to an oddly tidy living room and a much messier bedroom. At some point last night, I seemed to think it very important to consult the Chicago Manual of Style about the proper use of ellipses. It may have been related to a regrettable blog entry that this one has replaced.

Late night ramblings, part two: Reading and writing

I've always had a soft spot in my dessicated heart for Kingsley Amis. How could I not love the sour old fuck who coined the epithet "towering shit" even when he was past his prime?

I see my whole life as something like an Amis novel. One day, I will find myself piss drunk at a terribly important gathering and telling off whichever towering shit happens to hold the most power over me at the moment. Even better, I will have a suspiciously deus ex machina benefactor waiting in the wings to offer me a more rewarding position than the one that shall be yanked from under me by the towering shit I will have offended. (I'm not even keeping track of proper tenses at this point.)

On that note, what sort of fool tells an employee of a prominent jazz / cultural / heritage foundation point-blank that he does not attend their centerpiece annual event because he believes the venue to be hot, muddy, and teeming with pricey hot dogs? (Perhaps "hot dogs" is code for negroes.) How does he get to be a towering shit instead of a mere shit?

Late night ramblings, part one: Labor issues

The white collar worker fears that an Indian will do his job for less money; the blue collar worker fears that a Mexican will do his for less.