popeyes

i haven’t been posting at all lately.

i’ve moved from the desolation to uptown.

the move was a total diaster and continues to be.

mardi gras has come and gone. we took it easy…no hard drugs, few really drunk nights…

one good story tho 😀

we were on st charles watching a parade. this huge family of white people(this is important), has this huge table of food, popeyes fried chicken, biscuits, chips, cookies, an insane amount of food to just leave laying around.

i started out staring at them, watching them chow down on that wonderful, wonderful chicken. i realized what marla is doing everytime she watches me eat fried chicken….just stare, throw guilt and maybe, maybe they will give you some, just because they noticed you staring. i’ll feel different everytime she stares at me while eating.

finally, after a few shots of jager, it hits me that these people really don’t deserve this chicken. white people don’t appreciate fried chicken like we do. these steps have been carefully monitored by my wonderful girlfriend. she’s starting to see the writing on the wall and where this is going. she’s listened to me talk about the marla method failing and it’s time to resort to the other alternative marla method.

stealing 😀

it was right after that 2nd shot when i realized i’m going to steal this family’s fried chicken. i tell kelly to meet me across the street, a nice point to meet up if i don’t get murdered by this huge family for stealing their coveted food.

i wait for the perfect moment, watching everyone i have seen go to the table to make sure they are facing the parade. i walk up, open kelly’s backpack and slide the box in.

i walk slowly, but yet quickly, across the street and wait for the angry mob and or kelly.

luckily i get out of this without getting murdered. kelly meets me across the street, i laugh the entire way home and feast on my stolen chicken.

the next day i’m still eating the chicken, tastes so great. it wasn’t spicey tho, the white people i stole it from obviously didn’t like that “spicey” chicken…thank god for sauce.

it’s fucked up but about 2 months ago we were walking down magazine and i saw this woman and her children, carrying a box of popeyes…as we walked up to them i said to kelly, “im just going to grab it and run, meet me back at your house”…i didn’t…it just didn’t feel right.

this time it did 😀

kelly also bought me a bottle of scotch last saturday so i’m sure this update is fucked to face.

she also made this, which is the desktop of my living room computer