Effluvia

Gus is hassled by the Man.

From The Onion: Gay pride parade sets mainstream acceptance of gays back fifty years.

Did you see Buffy tonight? it was funny. Spike boinked a robot Buffy! Anyway, Buffy is moving to the UPN, as Time Magazine recently reported.

Speaking of which, Sarah Michelle Gellar is playing Daphne in the Scooby Doo movie, which should be out next year. No shit. She'll actually be a part of the Scooby gang.

Upcoming concerts here in New Orleans:

• The Cult
• Placebo
• Depeche Mode

Fantasy Death Row - wrong in many ways.

Journal Roulette

Tricky Martin - I'm torn. It's almost too easy to mock a self-described "queer radical," but she is in Memphis, making me her patron saint whether she knows it or not. Therefore I give her my provisional approval. Go. Read. Feel free to roll your eyes.

Siobhanorama!

Siobhan goes through the old paperwork.

Three Years Ago
The inaugural episode.

Two Years Ago
A family reunion.

One Year Ago
House shopping. Food. A murder-suicide.

This morning, as I rode the elevator up to work, a woman got off the elevator. She went to switch her purse from her left hand to her right. Somehow she managed to drop her keys right in the slot between the elevator and the floor. They fell a long, long time before we heard them clinkling at the bottom of the shaft.

Glad they weren't my keys.

Thanks to some college student friends of ours we got to go to a crawfish boil in Audobon Park put on by Tulane University.

We were sitting, eating crawfish, when I looked up, grinning.

"Could there be a more quintessential New Orleans thing?"

I suppose if we had been catching beads it would have been more regional.

And then Sunday we went back to the park for my company picnic, which was held at the zoo. Personally, I think any employer that gives the employees beer is pretty cool.

Sunday evening I left the house to go get some food. Right in front of the building a Japanese man walked up to me, looking very spiffy in pressed pants and a shot sleeved button-down. He gave me a quick bow.

"I'm looking for the shop-market," he said in pretty good English.

"Like a gorcery store?" I asked.

"Shop-market," he insisted.

"Well, the A&P is right down the street here. They've probably got everything you need."

"Is big shop-market?"

"It's not huge," I admitted, "but it's a good sized store."

"No big shop-market?" he gestured vaguely at the entire neighborhood.

I shook my head. "Not within walking distance."

"Thank you." I got another small bow and off he went down Magazine.

I wonder if he got what he needed. And what did he need a big grocery store for, anyway?

In the absence of interesting news I will publish the latest entry from Roxy's personal journal:

24 April 2001
A Tuesday
Clouds, rain

Near-constant rain today. Harold took me for a walk this morning, of course, but my long, day-fulfilling walk in the afternoon may be in jeopardy due to the weather. My sensitive head is quite ticklish and rain bothers me to distraction.

Oh, the fleas. The thrice-damned, motherfucking fleas! Never in all my life have they come on so strong so early in the spring. Several years ago I wore a bald spot at the base of my tail with all my chewing and scratching, the fleas were so bad. This summer looks to be far worse.

Harold suggested a bath. I knew I'd had a bath before, but I couldn't quite remember what one was. I thought perhaps it was the tasty white meat I'm often fed around the holidays, so I happily followed him in to the bathroom. Turns out a bath is where you get put in the tub and washed. I don't like that nearly as much. Still, I am a picture of doggy goodness so I acquiesced to his whims. And the itching is better. Many fleas fell off of me after the bath. Take that, you little bloodsucking communists!

We had a fine long walk around the Garden District yesterday. At one point we came around a fence and I saw two squirrels climbing a tree. They stopped on either side of the trunk, little beady eyes fastened on me, tiny rodent bodies vibrating with fear. They knew that I was Kali, Dis, the Grim Reaper come to bring a shaking, neck-snapping death if I so choose!

But I was on a leash and couldn't get to them. I I chose to let them live. I can be benevolent.

I'm worried about the dearth of treats lately. The kibble is fine, as always, but I'm afraid I must have treats to be at my best. Perhaps the family is out of treats. Maybe there are no more treats to be had. A world without treats would be a bleak place indeed.

Still, I must hope for the best. I'm sure long walks and large treats are in my future.

Must dash, genitals need a good licking.