I Got Hot Nuts!

This weekend Will and I went with John to retrieve items out of his Katrina flooded house in New Orleans. It was truly as awful as I imagined.

We had a few laughs though. John has totally subscribed to the hand-out way of life. If there is a line for something free, he gets in it. Kind of like a reverse Mardi Gras parade.

As we approached the Seventeenth Street levee, we saw a charity group distributing MREs and water. John instructed Will to slow down 'cause he spied another guy with snacks. We rolled down the window in time to hear the guy say, "I got hot nuts." Of course, I giggled. He then asked Will if he wanted some hot nuts. Will said, "I don't believe I do." I cackled and shouted to the guy that maybe he should put some ointment on his hot nuts. He grinned.

So then we went in the house to see what we could see. Will scrambled up the attic stairs like an agile monkey and we salvaged some Christmas and Mardi Gras decorations. At one point we were all standing on the sidewalk, taking a breather when Will dropped this gem. "Dude, your house is FUCKED up." Thank you for that report, Will.

So then God got Will back when Will cut his wrist on the garage door glass. We Cajun-rigged it with electrical tape and paper towels. Thankfully John's misshapen head sustained no injuries.

Oh, John made us stop at another distribution site so he could get some hand sanitizer. He walked away with a crossword puzzle book, 4 candy bars and a box of 100 Tampons. The tampons he gave to me.

While in John's bedroom, John reached into his closet to show us a piece of clothing. Will stopped him from disturbing the contents and rustling even more moldy dust. He said, "There are a lot of clothes in there but not a bit of fashion. Leave it."

That is our report from New Orleans, Louisiana.

Hot nuts or tampons, anyone?