every year i say i will not be in new orleans come august and every fucking year i am here. i must be insane. it is not good for my psyche to be in this city in august. why, why, why am i here? everyone in this place goes fucking nuts in august. dumb people become dumber. mean people get meaner. violent people more violent. lazy people lazier. if there is going to be a glitch in the system, it will be in august. if there is going to be a fuck up, rest assured it will take place in august. if you are going to have a nervous fucking breakdown, you will probably notice the first signs in august.
two certified money orders have been lost by the post office, leaving a somewhat large sum of money out there in the great ether. two! one, i could maybe understand but two?? i swear sometimes i believe the mailman is drunk or having a heat stroke or stricken by depression or just doesn't give a damn.
why must the city of new orleans pick august to rip up every fucking street from here to metarie? so now we are herded through detour after detour, all the while increasing the burning intensity of this the most stupid of months.
i want to close my eyes, snap my fingers and be transported to paris. i can just picture it now...a little sidewalk cafe, good wine, cheese, and bread. a cool breeze blowing. maybe if i click my shoes together enough times i can get there.
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