New Orleans

I love how it looks a little rundown, a little drunk, a little slanted, a little haunted. But is alive with art and music and food and cocktails.


“I don’t even need ChapStick right now, my lips are so greasy!”


In the sculpture garden at City Park, we came up with our own names for the art. Broken Rectangles. Deep Innie. Vacuum Attachment.

Then we sat under the Chime Tree.


Patty remembered the time we were in a hot tub before Jessica’s wedding and put on her Game Show Host voice for “Whose! Leg! Is This?!”


P: It’s like a little amuse-bouche.
R: What’s that?
P: To amuse your bouche.


“The Butt Cheeks is a good name for a band, though.”


“We don’t have enough biscuits in our life.”


We listened to Kermit Ruffins and James Winfield at Blue Nile.


In an old body shop turned art gallery, men were building a papier-mâché elephant.


R Train

Ladies and Gentlemen
After an earlier incident
My life is now running
With delays


A Spider in a Sculpture Garden

A spider built her web on the breast of a bronze sculpture of a woman, draping with lace the naked nipple and curve of the neck.


Stay Golden

This blog post is 2 years old but for some reason (driving traffic?) AV Club was linking to it on Twitter earlier this week: The Golden Girls Made Aging Fabulous.



I might watch Tegan and Sara's music video at least a hundred times a day.