Louisiana

I spent last weekend in Louisiana. The sugar cane was ready for harvest. Big and beautiful. I attended an 80th birthday party for a woman that B grew up next door to on the plantation, Miss Violet. I was introduced, with great respect, to "Mr. Niger," and later I heard a young boy calling his "Uncle Niger." An old neighbor to the relatives we stayed with is called "Niger Boy." By the way, all these people with the name "Niger" are white. I wonder if this phenomenon is unique to this south Louisiana territory. T.G.M., a Texas lotto winner, nephew of the birthday girl, was at the party strutting around with his short stockie (fat) self, wearing a white summer hat to match his starched white shirt. He and his wife arrived in their new Infinity for which they traded their yellow Hummer. All Put had to say was, "It ain't a pretty thing." There was a nice spread of food at the party including a homemade Jambalaya. The ladies at our table were looking forward to going to the Bonchance (a really OLD bar) after the party to go dancing with the old men. The old people were amazing in their physical abilities. Men and women in their upper 80's were dancing as if they were in their 30's.
We over-ate the whole time we were there: crawfish stew, potato salad, cake, fried shrimp po-boys, catfish, biscuits, etc. Even the Pug got bloated. He sh_t all over the yard, front and back, and drank and drank the water. Even the dog food has too much salt in it. And just like us humans he preferred their food to his own.
It's good to be home, but I miss the food already.
It looks like my chances of working at NASA are going up. I have mixed feelings about it. I'm ready to get out of T-Neg's hair, but I'm not looking forward to the drive and the hours. The money will be better. But money isn't everything.
I'm getting a blister on my lower lip. Yuk! and I burned it with a piece of fried chicken.
Later...