New orleans Stories

It was the weekend before Mardi Gras in 1999. Let me tell you how this started: I blame Joe Francis, the guy behind Girls Gone Wild (GGW). It was several months prior to Mardi Gras when Kelly and I saw some GGW ads on TV. Honestly, it was right up our alley. Kelly had an exhibitionist streak, which turned me on immensely. We bought a few of the GGW videos and had some great sex as we watched nubile young women drunkenly f...

  Umm… Good morning Handsome One Before we part ways, breakfast is served on me before the rise of the sun As you can see, only succulent fruit is laid out Which, I’m sure your dick will have no qualms about Sorry baby, no cereal, no milk Only a sinful excursion to caress your libido as fine woven silk I hope you have brought to the table an appetite to consume every presentable, bit by bit An ongoing flame continuing fro...

The Old Absinthe House is dead. The French Quarter is a cemetery. The bar’s doors are thrown open to the elements and a gentle breeze drifts in with the dancing notes of a street corner clarinetist. I recognize the tune, but it takes a second to place it. I remember a Janjaweed commander who wore out an old vinyl record during an impromptu interview. Sidney Bechet. ‘Blues in Thirds.’ I shiver, the tune dredging up the kin...

Pinetop knew eternity, The power of stopping time. Hold yourself now, And when I say get it, You get it! The piano rattles, From New Orleans to Mexico, Your city blues make dancing girls, and shots, And smoke filled bars, beatific, Make cut-time, the beat of your heart, Make pictures real, Make remarks fade, Make memories drift like the heavy beat of the Mississippi. Pinetop knew how the sway of sound and drifting blues c...