SCREAMING AND SCAMMING

Paul and I went to Bruno's on Tuesday night for the first time since Gustav. I have been feeling sort of down. Not for any particular reason. Actually, life is treating me pretty well. But just in general. Maybe because I'm still feeling like an idiot for blowing it with Ashley. I felt like I could drink about four beers. I sat back and chilled at the bar, and after two beers and some good conversation, I didn't have any negative feelings left in me. Magic. Maybe I should drink more than one night a week.

The girl to the right was celebrating her birthday with some gal pals. They were acting a fool in the middle of the bar, especially this girl in the brown dress. We'll call her the screamer. Paul and I were sitting at the table right next to this party group. For about five minutes, the screamer kept - you guessed it - screaming at the top of her lungs for intervals of five seconds. It was so high-pitch I thought about taking out my duct tape (if I had some with me) and taping her mouth shut until she promised to act like a big girl. Can you imagine what she does on her own birthday? Notice I resisted the sexual joke there.

Paul and I are walking to his car down Maple Street right after 1 a.m. when we pass a man in his 40s holding hands with a woman. I give my customary nod to anybody I pass on the street. He was interested in more than just nodding. He comes up to us and shakes our hands. We take this as odd but indulge him. We turn to get in Paul's car when the man starts talking. 

"Say, can I speak to you gentleman for a moment? This is my wife (she nods). She has one breast. If you don't believe me, she'll show you." (We decline. Though in retrospect, we should have called his bluff. But what if he wasn't bluffing? Then, I guess, I could have gotten a pic.)

I see where this is headed and step away from his line of sight toward the car. Paul doesn't do the same and allows the encounter to continue. I pretend to make a phone call to prevent further interaction. I do, however, listen to the conversation.

Man with a One-Tit Spouse (MOTS): Thanks for stopping to talk to me, man.

Paul: Um. No problem.

MOTS: Let me tell you, we've met some rude kids out here tonight. Just plain rude. 

Paul: (Makes incoherent noise).

MOTS: Let me explain to you what the situation is. I need $13. Just $13. I'll work for it. I'll wash your car right now or tomorrow. Or whatever. We just need $13 for a hotel room. You see, her brother kicked our out of the apartment. And we need a hotel room. 

During that rousing speech, Paul dug through his wallet searching for money. I searched my brain for the location of the nearest hotel room. Paul hands over some money (Later, he tells me he gave $2). 

We get in Paul's car parked right in front of the camera shop (good times there, eh Gillie?). I tell Paul to stop as he's backing up. The MOTS approaches an unsuspecting couple sitting against the corner of the camera shop. 

I'm not positive they were a couple, but I noticed the girl crying her eyes out when I was pretending to make a phone call. "I can't take this shit no more. I hate them all. They don't care about me!" The guy was trying to comfort her as she continued to sob. He wasn't holding her. During that scene, the MOTS comes up. I roll down my window to get a better listen.

MOTS: Excuse me. Is it possible to get $13 from you for a hotel room for my wife here. Her brother kicked her out the apartment. 

Crying Girl: I'm not trying to get rid of you, sir, (sniffles) but I honestly don't have any money on me. (She sniffles again.)

I couldn't make out his response, but Paul then starts driving home. He had seen enough. I suggest to him that we follow the couple to see if they make it to that hotel room. He chuckles at the notion. Hell, I was serious. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom still was upset about the cork in the windows. "Ten fucking hours. My fucking nails hurt. Now the fucking leaves are coming down. Plus, the window was fucking broken."

Mom went out to get some Popeye's. She asks me what to order, and I tell her it depends on if you want a drink.

Mom: What are the choices?

Me: There is a dinner, a platter and a combo.

Mom: Fuck.

We still have a board on one of our windows from Gustav. "I should have gotten storm shutter windows. Then I could just bring that fucking thing down when a storm comes."

Mom summed up her feelings on the summer and what lies ahead. "What a fucking summer. First with the fucking termite people. Then everything else. I can't take no more. Hopefully, the grass stops fucking growing soon. Nobody better fuck with my shows. I want a good TV season. No bullshit."

TOO MUCH GOOD IN THIS WORLD

Every time I hear somebody use the word 'good' when 'well' should be used, I cringe. I usually don't say anything to the person because it seems natural to say good. I probably have done it myself without realizing. But in my head, I correct the person and wonder why people can't get this right. I think a lot of people don't even know that the statement is grammatically incorrect.

Well, enough is enough. We need to correct this problem. And correct it now. As with all rules, there are exceptions to the good-vs.-well rule. But I'm not worried about those. I'm worried about the basics. Well is an adverb and modifies verbs, adjectives and other adverbs. Good is an adjective and modifies nouns. Sorry for the third-grade English lesson. Had to be done.

The incorrect use I'm referring to here is for the use of action verbs. How many times have you heard somebody talking about a game and say, "Man, they played good last night"? Good in this case would have to be an adverb to be able to modify the action verb played. However, good be's an adjective. Correct: They played well last night. I think the most common word used to fuck this up is "did." He did good with the presentation. Correct: He did well with the presentation. Or: He did a good (adjective) job (noun) on the presentation.

So, don't hold back any longer. If you hear about somebody talking good or writing good or dancing good or defending good, shout obscenities at the offender. Actually, scratch that last one. If you hear about somebody defending good, send the defender to the Saints. I don't care if he's no good at English.

As I was saying, if we don't fix this situation now, what kind of world will we leave for our children? Well, I'll tell ya. A world in which Michael Phelps swam really good in the Olympics but did not perform very good on SNL. Though it was nice to see Deborah.

PARTING SHOT

D is reading a story on how great South Plaquemines has been playing.

D: I want to see South Plaquemines.

Brick: Not right now, you don't.

THE DAILY TOP LIST

My top 5 love-sick songs.

5) Love Me Do. Beatles.

I had to get a Beatles song in here. This was the first song that popped in my head when I was trying to decide what song to pick.

4) You and Me. Lifehouse.

This might be the most popular song for weddings to come along in quite some time. Heck, IF I ever get married, I'm using it.

3) Iris. Goo Goo Dolls.

I don't want the world to see me when I sing this song.

2) I Don't Want to Miss a Thing. Aerosmith.

I actually avoid listening to this song because it makes me cry like a baby.

1) I Want It That Way. Backstreet Boys.

I can't help but like this song. Whether you want to admit it or not, you like it too.