The White House announced today that the United States has sold Louisiana back to the French. Not the entire Louisiana Territory, just the state of Louisiana. The US also attempted to sell Arkansas to Spain, but instead accepted a counter offer from the Walton family.
When asked about the sell at his afternoon briefing, White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan started sweating profusely then ran into the hallway where he promtly defecated in Helen Thomas’s messenger bag. After a quick shower, he returned with more details. “We bought the land in 1803 for $15 million and sold it back for $45 million. The way we look at it, we just made $30 million, and that doesn’t even factor in depreciation and coastal erosion. Those suckers didn’t get back hardly any of the wetlands.”
News of the purchase was met with glee in Paris. French Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin said “a bunch of stuff in French.” After realizing most of the press corpse was not bilingual, Francois Barloin, Minister of Overseas France, began taking questions. “This gives our government a great opportunity,” he said. “Our nation has been suffering trough weeks of riots because so many of our citizens are unemployed. Well, with all the clean-up and rebuilding Louisiana needs because of Katrina and Rita, we’ll be able to provide them with much needed jobs. I’m mean hey, why should all of those jobs go to Latinos?”
Louisiana Governor Kathleen Babineaux Blanco was excited about the opportunity to interact with French officials. “I think they will look at me as a Joan of Arc, seeing as how we both have the same haircut as a 14-year-old boy.”
Officials in San Juan are thrilled with the news. They expect to be named the 50th state, to prevent everyone from having to buy new flags.
When told about the implication of French as the official language, Uptown New Orleans resident Budroux Broussard expressed anger. “They gonna tell me how to talk? I live on Carrollton Street. Rue de la Carrollton, huh? Those French faggots are gonna rue the day they tried to come in here.” He then stumbled away, tripped over the abandoned street car tracks and was last seen passed out in a puddle of his own vomit on the neutral ground.
Metarie teenager Allison Breaux seemed unfazed by the news. “Maybe they can keep Lakeside Mall open past 6:00 PM.” She did express concern over learning the metric system, but had a solution. “My meth dealer said he would break it down for me. He’s got scales and everything.”
The news was not received well in Chalmette. Millard Dupree, a local bondo salesman, and the area’s wealthiest resident, exclaimed “I’m from Da Parrish brah!”
The White House has already announced plans for military action against Louisiana. Intelligence sources reported that citizens were able to purchase hand grenades right on the street in the French Quarter. Also the state suffers from problems with democracy. Not a lack of democracy, but an abundance of it. Not only are citizens allowed to vote, but they are not necessarily limited to only one ballot. Also, since voting rights are not bound to the mortal coil (many Louisiana residents continue to punch ballots well after they are deceased) right to die laws will overhauled after the US Armed Forces have reclaimed control of the land.

Let’s start this off with one of my biggest pet peeves, the obligatory preamble to bitching that everyone down here has to do now. You can’t complain about anything without first giving the “I know a lot of people have it worse off than me, but…” qualifier. Except for the times when I deal with strangers who live in other parts of the world, I am now dropping this from all future conversations.
I have set up a permanent temporary residence. That’s a new, but appropriate, phrase I am working into the lexicon. My home is still uninhabitable despite the fact that it has running water, electricity and phone service (don’t ask me). I have bounced around to a few places since my return. I bailed on that living at work thing after a couple of days. Nothing to break up those 20 hour work days like three hours of sleep.
My work days are much shorter now because the city has decided to enforce the curfew. No more late night revelry. Everyone in their homes (or what serves as a home) from midnight until 6 AM. It is freaky dealing with an 11:00 last call anywhere, much less New Orleans.
It is still very inconvenient to live here. More and more businesses are opening everyday, and those are happy little moments. Finding somewhere to eat, drink and/or buy essential needs puts a spring in my step. While everyone makes it a point to thank the military, law enforcement and firemen who are down here helping to protec and rebuild the city (as do I), I also make it a point to thank the cashiers, bag boys and stock clerks for allowing me to pick up a Mountain Dew, a bag of Munchos and a Nutty Bar. I bought a minifridge today (a thank you to my permanent temporary roommate), so I will be no longer making my daily ice runs. I was sort of enjoying the hunter-gatherer aspects of my life.
The past two nights me and my “roomy” have sat on her balcony and watched a strange new world unfold before our eyes. We would watch the Hummers loaded down with troops roll by. Then watch the police cars (all with sirens flashing) roll by. We even saw a foot patrol. A team of soldiers flanking both sides of the street with M-16s drawn. There almost no civilians on the street. After a while we were even able to start identifying the undercover vehicles. Eventually, we got their patterns and timing down to the point we knew who was coming when and from what direction.
While I was typing that last paragraph, some type of armored vehicle came to a complete stop in front of the house. There was a soldier on the top with a VERY large weapon. He was also wearing a helmet. They are in fucking combat gear. The man on the top made some radio communication to someone then they pulled into the driveway and sat for approximately 45 seconds. I was a tad freaked. I know I’m doing nothing wrong, but this whole martial law thing is tricky. These men can basically shoot me for any reason. They can comendere my home or my vehicle (I wonder if my insurance policy covers that).
OK, this entry just got a lot shorter. They are back again and sitting across the street. I’m going inside for a while. More from the frontlines later.

I made my permanent return to New Orleans today. The trip in was not as hectic as expeted. I waited in no lines and went through no checkpoints. However, it did take me about two hours to get through Baton Rouge, and this was mi-day. That city is completely overwhelmed with the population growth.
My apartment was much worse than my intial assesment. The water damage was much more extensive than I had noticed three weeks ago. And the mold, holy cow the mold. I may have to rework my FEMA application because I now have a dependent living in my apartment. We should have plenty of good times though because he’s a really fungi (I couldn’t resist). I had to toss all of my rugs, all of the furniture that was on the rugs, and anything on the floor on, or within six inches of, the rugs. The fridge clean-up was relatively painless though. And people always made fun of me for never having food at my house. My phone worked and my water flowed. However, I still have no electricity, so I am living at work for the time being. Far from an ideal situation. We’ve got a few other folks in a similar boat as me crashing here. It’s our own little evacuee shelter. The worst part is, that I am basically on the clock 24 hours a day while I am here (did I mention that I don’t get paid hourly, or a salary, actually I don’t get paid at all). It’s nice to have a roof over my head, but I am paying for it with untold hours of free labor.
The city has made amazing progress since my last visit. The number of downed trees and power lines was grealty reduced, but still unavoidable on basically every block. Most of the large amounts of trash had been removed as well. And the area surrounding the convention center was, dare I say, pristine.
When I traveled down to the French Quarter for work I was stunned. Bourbon Street was alive and bustling (none of the other streets though). Resturants, bars and yes, even tacky over-priced souvenier stores were open for business. The neon flashed, the music blared and the tourists wore beads. It was if nobody told them what happened a month ago.
The biggest thing I took away from today is that despite the claims of many, the city is not ready. Working traffic lights are sporatic at best. Every intersection is a four-way stop. So, you ain’t getting no where fast when you have to come to a complete stop every block. Many of the street signs are gone and have not been replaced. Not just signs letting you know what street you are on or crossing, but ones that give you traffic instructions. The water is till not drinkable, can be used for showering only in certain neighborhoods and is good just for flushing toilets in many areas. There is no where to shop in the city. You can’t buy groceries, cleaning supplies, medicine… or well anything. A trip to Jefferson Parrish is required for all essential purchases. But make sure you are home before six, the whole damn city is grounded. Except the French Quarter, where bars stayed open til the wee hours of the morning. New Orleans be New Orleans.

SHREVEPORT, LA — I truely am the luckiest motherfucker in the world. I just keep landing on my feet. Yesterday I was finally able to find an avaliable hotel room. FEMA is paying for two weeks of lodging for displaced Gulf Coast residents. So for the next 14 days I will be laying my head down in a suite at the Boomtown Casino. My room has a king-sized bed, a wet bar, a sauna shower and a jacuzzi. Also, due to the previously mentioned hotel shortage I will have some guests this weekend. My suite will be home to the Tulane cheerleading squad. Continuing on the good news front, my neighborhood opens up this weekend and my place of employment should be open by the end of the month at the lastest. Looks like my stay in north Louisiana could be MUCH shorter than expected.

Tonight I will be sleeping at Huey Long’s old lake camp. THAT IS SO FREAKING COOL!

SHREVEPORT, LA — This site will be temporarily publishing from northwestern Louisiana. This should not effect your reading enjoyment. Everyone here has been wonderful and kind. They have opened their hearts, homes and places of employment to me. I haven’t had the opportunity to see much of the city yet. I’m probobly gonna end up with roomates for the first time this century. Interesting times on the horizons. Everyday my safe and sound count rises. Some people I still haven’t heard from. My list of great concern is down to one. Thanks to all my friends around the world that have sent their well wishes and offered to help. I am the luckiest motherfucker in the world. I have been provided with a job and a place to live. Do what ever you can to assist those affected by hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. To those of you that already have donated money, supplies or your time… THANK YOU! From the bottom of my heart thank you. And realize you probobly have evacuees in your community. I guarantee there is something you can do for somebody right there in your back yard. Gonna work on getting some happy stories up soon.