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Maundering May
More Proof by Way of Admission that the Author is a Slaveholder


In the entire month of May I have only written the following, listed by the number of words to each article, in the order written:

842

662

762

1,079

698

317

828

470

569

757

449

527

397

1,307

419

286

1,475

496

430

1,400

815

257

1,062

1,435

238

212

617

804

373

349

325

263

450

595

564

879

724

And 1,024

That is 1. [something] article a day when I normally do 3-4.

Sure, I could make some excuses. But the truth is—I done lost my Negro!

The last I saw him he was eating pancakes at a Portland restaurant with Yeti Waters, who promised to send him across country on $5 mega buses via Indian casinos. I am beginning to think that blues-playing, sausage-fingered guitarist Yeti Waters has perhaps kept my slave for his own self.

Maybe it was Stevedore’s doing, perhaps telling my generous host that it was he and not me who had done the house cleaning—when it was my handiwork all along as Stevedore was needed at the typewriter.

In any case, I’m busting my rusty ghost brain over May’s slated book completion and I was simply wondering, if any of my readers have seen a 122-year old Negro, about the tone of brown shoe polish, playing the slot machines at some Midwestern casino with a “rum and smoke” in his long-fingered hand?

A devil needs to know.

Starter Book List

https://jameslafond.blogspot.com/p/james-lafond-starter-pack.html?m=0

Add Comment
Yeti WatersMay 31, 2019 6:31 PM UTC

Last time I saw Stevedore, he was at the Spirit Mountain Casino, putting steel washers into the quarter slots. I don’t know where he is now. Scouts honor.

On an unrelated note, I’ve just finished a comprehensive history of negro folk music, 796 pages. The working title is “Lightnin’ Stole My Thunder”.
responds:June 3, 2019 1:37 PM UTC

Thanks for the tip, Bro.