January 2011 / Twenty Eleven Already
"When just a minute ago it was only the eleventh hour," the bartender said, from behind his rampart of empty Dom Perignon bottles. The bottles marched off down the bar like plump spent soldiers on their way to their cash register billet, and our bankruptcy.
Bartender: "And, Le Petit Theatre du Vieux Carre' has canceled the entire year. So, drink up sinners, tomorrow is here!"
"God bless the New World Order,"
we chimed in with some fellow inebriate wearing a tuxedo and arm candy -- a woman in a red sequined gown.
"Probably a banker and his trophy wife,"
Norma said, in stage whisper.
The man smiled. The trophy-wife smiled. Followers before the bar smiled and addressed the bartender: "She means 2-y-k, not the lubricant."
Wine's Muddled Clarity
Norma said, "Boots done marched right over me!"
"Nine-eleven attacked our confidence, and our national cheer became a shiver," we added.
Bartender: "We quaked in our boots and sent our children off to wars without reason or adequate equipment. Folks, our ship of state has been run aground by helmsmen stealing its brass."
The cabbie / actor (out of work, of course) said, "May your ragged sleeve be mended by dawn."
The cabbie wore a gray T-shirt that read in black lettering: "My Parents Went to New Orleans And All I Got Is This Lousy I. Q."
You want a magnetized image of LEJ's fat face to scare future storm vermin from your refrigerator? "It'll keep them bugs out'a your icebox, next time, sugar!" says L. A. Norma. Click here for information: LEJ.org Magnet.