Posts, Pictures, and Pointless Ephemera
Used to live in New York. Kind of a fish out of water when he's not in New York. That guy's got a lot of balls in the air, nobody can say exactly what he does for a living. But anyone can list at least five schemes he's told them about, which are not jobs exactly, but not quite capers, either.He's kind of lovable, but usually at least a little annoying.That guy.
Someone cast a spell and now Wooly Willy is on the loose.
i think it's harry shearer.
Vic thought that gutting houses in New Orleans might be a good way to spend part of that sabbatical. You know, come down, work in some blown up neighborhood during the day and hang out with the hipsters on Frenchman St or maybe the brilliant ne'erdowell barflies up at the Maple Leaf while waiting on some music. A little service and alot of cheap music, food, and fun. He could stay with his old college roomate on the couch in their Bywater double and maybe chip in for groceries or something. It would be a cheap way to spend a few months and he could do some good while soaking up the strange and unique vibe in New Orleans. It was a good plan. A solid plan. A plan that he could look back on later and congratulate himself for. Then, sadly and predictably, he got robbed on St Claude while riding home from gutting houses in the Lower 9 and was left on the corner thinking, "What the fuck am I doing here? I could have just written a book like every other English professor at NYU does on sabbatical. These people are all nuts and there's not a good bagel or hot dog to be had in the whole town. What was I thinking?"