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ohmercy, ya'had me until "First".
It's Mrs. Braden-Perry Thang to yous.
As for your... absolute malakatude re: how New Orleanites look at our city through a glass darkly, may I interest yous in a Plantation Retreat?
Thanks Megan, yous such a bad grrrrl.
Why not set up a Blakepedia? *PYOW*
IT'S ALIVE! IT'S! A! LIIIIIVE!!!!
WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?!?!?
Aw'Riot! Great news!
I'm gratified Kevin took my advise one night, not that he was listening to me -or even there for that matter... but that's beside the point --I told Somebody Somewhere to do exactly this: partner up wit'da sabby gumshoe Robert Morris. He's old school in a new suit, knows how to find a beat and follow it up. He even looks like Clark Kent if you squint.
And Robert Morris is a Media Big Twit.
It was probably those thieving trend mongers at Times-Picayune. PYOW! hehehe #pignapping
I love the food at St Lawrence the way I love Our New Orleans Saints. There, I said it.
The thing that killed me about the Service was on St Patty's Day. Da'place was buzzin, our Lady Waitron knew exactly who she had and set us up accordingly: Bywaters and Beers. Though much younger than me, this gal was Old School New Orleans Restaurant Culture, prolly trained from birth, momma took her to Tujagues without a highchair, that sorta thing. I'd begun to think such a creature extinct, another victim of The Culture Wars. But no, it lives. She practically ordered for us, yeah it took a little while but not too long considering the place was busy as fickn hell, the food was as usual to die for... jus'sayin, I refuse to get in a hurry about real New Orleans food.
Such is the case for me at St. Lawrence.
KILL THE HEAD!
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