Wednesday, January 28, 2015


I really needed to vent. Several months ago, a neighbor here on Toulouse tried to sue some of the clubs on Bourbon Street for noise and quality of life issues. 20 million or some totally ridiculous amount for noise. One place he named in the suit was the Court of Two Sisters and their acoustic jazz brunch trio that plays in the courtyard next to his. Emotional strain, loss of sleep, health issues, loss of revenue and impotency  I believe was the damages. He lost.

This week he has yet again rented out his place for a film production. NCIS New Orleans is shooting there. For the past two days our sidewalk has been clogged by production people laying cables, wheeling carts back and forth and just taking over between the trucks on the street and the sidewalk cluttered. Tonight on my way out, I had to ask people to step away from my front gate to leave to go to Rouses. They set up the craft table right next to my front door, blocked my neighbor's door and have reduced the sidewalk to single file pedestrian traffic only.

I worked as a background extra when I first got down and couldn't find any other work. I am not proud of it, I did it for the money. Now I feel dirty and ashamed and hope no one I know sees me in any of the movies I made, I feel like a dirty whore. I stopped watching television back in the 90's, been to one film in 15 years, so none of this Hollywood bullshit impresses me.  I may be biased with my complaint since I have total contempt and loathing for the industry as a whole. When I was snapping these pictures with a somewhat piss expression on my face, the caterer I guess thought that he could smooze me with a cup of coffee and a pack of potato chips. I M-Fd him.

I've pissing and moaning about it all night on facebook, mostly tongue in cheek as many of my rants are.  There is another film being shot around the corner tonight also. Royal Street is lined for 2 blocks by production trucks and St Peter is closed off.  A friend was visiting another friend in one of the apartments in my building. As he crossed Toulouse to come to the door, the caterer pointed at him and screamed. "DON'T EVEN FUCKING THINKL ABOUT IT! GET BACK OVER ACROSS THE STREET!" He was visiting this building that was lined with the craft table. 
Well, soon from a third story window, the visitor and myself were giving the production people a profanity laced reminder of who lives on the street and who is a guest. Shortly security was gathered around as we finished our lecture.  I live and work two jobs on this block, no pretentious fuzzy faced hipster production asshole is going to treat my friends, my neighbors or my street with anything less than respect.