the blag that gets in the way

so here i am in new orleans (who dat?!) currently sitting on a couch. got the window open, so's not to suffocate myself with carcinogens (which are a fuck of a lot more affordable here than up north.) i love smoking in residences. and bars. and i love being able to meander about the downtown area sipping a tall boy of high life. buskers on the riverfront (the mighty, muddy, mis'sipi)
running out of cigarettes and realizing they're only 4.99 on st. charles
cookouts, jam sessions, drumming, walking aimlessly
talking about kuhn and wittgenstein over jack n' cokes.
biology majors who spend all day chainsmoking playing scrabble on their iphones
beatniks playing dominoes after filling their stomachs with alcohol, thc, nicotine, and vietnamese coffee.
an occult shop. bookshelves full of works from the esoteric tradition.
two young blond male lovers skip hand in hand down the french quarter.
red beans and rice. best damn fried chicken on earth (thank you, mrs. willie mae)
weird cannabinoid-altered botanical smokable incense. you can make tea with it too.
live jazz at preservation hall (free, early admission). way down yonder in new orleans. fresh beats cooking hot like a crawfish boil (celestially aromatic). clarinet cooler than a raw oyster (delicieux). trombone playing that would blow a nine inch hole in a levy. legendary blues piano. sliding strings of an upright and good old fashioned dixieland drums locking it all together.
fucking barbecued alligator sandwiches.

and thats just in four days.

i'll be back with more.