Honour Bright

Mrs. O'Leary's cow For those that don't get it..... http://www.thechicagofire.com/index.php

coerce

Green cheese.

candy corn

private eye

clandestine

Two fer one.

calamari

Tuna fish!

loony

Nosey

arachnophobia

The Cream of Clapton. 'Layla.' Men on their knees beggin' darlin' please is a good thing, yes?

cry me a river

St Louis #1 is the oldest cemetery in the city, founded in 1789. http://www.graveaddiction.com/1stlouis.html It borders on a questionable neighborhood. St Louis #2 is in the projects. Because the tombs are above ground and almost look like little houses, there are plenty of places for the criminal element to hide. People have even been mugged during the day. *like that ever stopped me* During Katrina, when all the looting was going on, St Louis Cemetery #1 was untouched. Why, you may ask? Because Marie Laveau, renowned voodoo queen is buried there. Her magic is still feared so the looters stayed out of it and away from her. *she's 50' from my family tomb*

I'm not totally clueless. I was joking.

Matt! Good to see you! I worked with you and Klaus and Cliff at the Pirates magazine booth at John Levique Days. Hope to see you at the Pirate Festival in St Petersburg perhaps! Back to subject--since my family is from New Orleans and I love the Quarter, I'd just be getting myself in trouble as I'd never leave the bars! Except for maybe jumping the walls at midnight at St Louis #1 or standing outside the LaLaurie house. And only if Mad Jack was with me! *he understands*

Someone brought something up, I just clarified it. That's all. .

Before this thread gets locked and for a diversion before tempers flare-- I am the owner of a 1974 VW Beetle. While I live in coastal Florida, I would NOT want to trust that my Bug is watertight. No matter WHAT this commercial says... OK--back to the thread.

How about a pirate holding a nice sandy wench? *raises hand* I volunteer!

Oh...she was there. She just wasn't 'receiving' at the time. Did you leave your calling card?

Mad Matt-- Mad Jack and I have to take you to a Creole townhouse at 1140 Royal Street in the French Quarter. We both (not at the same time) have stood across the street from it late at night. Jack, get those day-old beignets and be ready to throw them at Madame LaLaurie. And then run like hell.

I'd time-travel back in time to around 1800 and go to the French Quarter of New Orleans and hang around a certain blacksmith shop. Maybe even gather information for him. I'd walk the streets of where my family lived and sit on the banks of the Mississippi in the sultry summer night and smell the jasmine in the air. I would speak fluent French and eat beignets to my heart's content. Oh, yeah. The only thing I would insist on having is mosquito repellant.

sand in your swimsuit!

*whine*