It wasn't me. You can't prove anything.


2015-04-10

Notes

I’m starting to notice fictional podcasts having the same stories over and over. Different authors and the same plot. I think they take the same plot and plop it down in different genres.




One state starts a ball rolling. Civil forfeitures are being abused.

Cuban band. I have not thought  in a long time that the U. S. embargo on Cuba would work. I dislike the Castro regime. I dislike the U. S. elite class traveling to Cuba and singing praises of the medical system and Communism without allowing themselves to be exposed to the squalor behind the wall. I like the music. I like some of the food. I’ve only met a couple Cuban people. I liked them too. I look forward to a Cuban cigar and a cup of coffee.

I went to the Seafood Shope just up the street from work. Normally I would go with a couple people from work. They didn’t want to go this week. I have been hinting since Tuesday. Well, I went today and sat at the bar for the first time. It was awesome. I had the catfish po boy. The guy jokingly offered me water with tequila and I nearly took him up on it. Glad I went. A young lady sat at the bar round the corner from me. She got 3 pounds of crawfish. I couldn’t hear the TV, but I didn’t care. I used my phone for entertainment until the food got there. Then, I ate like a starving man.

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