Big? Big enough, Easy, easy enough, well it seems so on the surface.
But first let me digress, just a bit. I truly enjoy photography. Have all of my life, I could go into some sorry ass story 'bout the first photo I made and the disappointment and how I still carry that Image in my memory. (the faded bad color Kodak print is long gone), but I won't. So here I is 55 years later still doin' it. But now my skills are a bit better, the equipment is light years (no pun) ahead of that Brownie Starflash, and the film is free. Well once you drop a young fortune on the card. So this weekend I was using two lens. One an 11-16 mm ultra wide and the other a 90 mm macro. I am always amazed at how the photographer's eye alters it's viewing angle to accommodate the limits of the lens. My Intention here is to post photographs and keep the comments to a minimum. The rant will upon occasion creep into the moment. Just too much fun going on around me. I'm not used to seeing drunk chics helping each other down the street all the while gigglin'. I have a shot or two just don't know if the quality will pass muster. Drunk Guys, hey they are a dime a dozen, with Lagniappe.
The photographs. To Wit:
Love is an opening door.
Usually the open door will have a wrinkle later on.
What more is there to say?
Let's see Randy Newman said, "they're good 'ol boys at LSU, they go in dumb and come out dumb too". He was right. The good news they mostly wear purple and yellow clothing. I must say you can spot them in a crowd. If the purple does not show from a block away, when you get close and see they are drunk, you will notice a small logo with the purple and yellow. They also have a secret handshake.
Well at least one person had a good thought.
This place is the real deal. They welcome you in and said, come let me teach you, Voodoo. No zombees stumblin' 'round here.
The is the Marie Laveau House of VooDoo. Where the Zombee's pretend to live. Marie is dead and rollin' in her grave, or maybe up walkin' 'round. Don't Know.
I have never see so many signs saying "No Photos!, No Smokin', 'No Touchin' the altars', 'No Nothin'
no kiddin', the only sign missing was the no thing for sale sign. Anyway outside on the street, I could take a photo, no sh*t! Made me chuckle.
BTW Marie was the real deal. Hell some guy wrote a song about her.
Good stuff for a po boy with a fancy pants camera. I particularly like 1-6.
ReplyDeleteYou may notice that I am keeping my tone in check...it does occur to me that you had a couple of dolls made in that there Marie's place. Mr. C, take note.
I was wondering why I started itching and got a crick in the neck. But I ain't worried. I got a black cat bone and a mojo too.
ReplyDeleteIt's a testiment to the Big Easy that an old codger with a camera can skulk around taking pictures of folks without getting his ass beat. However, flicks like these might be worth an ass whoopin'. Good stuff Punch.
BTW JJ... I don't think I should be the only one worried about a vodoo doll.
JadedJ...Marie, well, she did look up ya know, when I said who the doll was about.
ReplyDeleteMr. Charleston...When I axed Marie put a black cat bone in the doll of you, she just smiled, real pretty like and said Yes.
I know.
I felt the hair on my neck. I knew this was the real deal.
Still got my mojo workin' bro.
ReplyDeleteLooks like you've been having some fun
ReplyDeleteWhere was the picture of the drunk chicks?
ReplyDeletewalking man, he couldn't post them...this is a family blog.
ReplyDeletePENo...yes it was a small lifetime. Lookin' forward to the next.
ReplyDeleteWalkin' Man...they are on the way. I'm workin' my way through the photos.
JadedJ...if that were so, I would have to block most of your comments.
You've hurt me to the quick. There's nothing left but...drink...and porno. Areever dirty, mo fo.
ReplyDeleteThat's one of the places on my bucket list. The city, not necessary Mme. Laveau's emporium. Then again, I do have some co-workers who need straightening out...
ReplyDelete