How Lord Byron Went to Ecuador

Erecting monuments to honor famous people is often motivated to beautify the urban setting, to express concretely certain civic aspirations, and to provide an edifying model for citizens to emulate. Thus, kings, statesmen, soldiers, and civic benefactors are subjects so honored.

Guayaquil, Ecuador desired to honor the Ecuadorian leader and poet, José Olmedo. After all, he was mayor of Guayaquil twice and was President of Ecuador in 1845. He was also an accomplished poet; having written many patriotic poems.

The only trouble was, having a statue of Olmedo would cost more than the community could afford.

So they thought, "No way, José! What the heck! We'll get a pre-owned one of somebody or other we can afford. Anyway, who remembers what he looked like!"

And so, a statue of George Gordon, Lord Byron was placed in Guayaquil by these thrifty citizens and duly labeled José Olmedo.

Byron subbing for Olmedo

José Olmedo

 

Sleeping in the Nude

During their biweekly gathering over chicory coffee and beignets, one of the ladies brought up an interesting matter. Supposedly, sleeping in the nude gives a person a better night's sleep. Now this appeared in the Times Picyaune, so that word was as good as gospel!

The now-wide awake girls took a minute or two to digest that bit of news; and the floodgate of comments was opened.

Missy Chauvin opened with a little admission: she sometimes did that when she was behind on her washing. Some of the others were surprised by her remark; not by the admission of her sometimes sleeping nude; but by her admitting that she sometimes let the washing slip by. Hilda Walspurgis asked, not censoriously, "What? Do you not like red beans and rice?" She was alluding to the New Orleans custom of preparing red beans and rice on washday; and talk about many things goes down to talking about food. By the way, red beans and rice calls for beer or at least tea.

Marie D'Aquin worried about nekkid sleeping being an occasion for sin of some kind. She then wondered if we should send Madeline Dupré to ask Father Devereaux if it was. Madeline was horrified at the good padre learning that she slept naked; but said, "No, prolly not. If you feel it's sinful, it's because you're probably doing it sinfully." The group had to sort through that moral koan, and went on taking sips of coffee.

Well, Suzette Picou said, "I always slept in the nude; being a little cooler at night helps me sleep a little better. There's just one problem, though."

Madeline asked, "What's that?"

Suzette replied, "Well, you know I like to do my Tai Chi exercises outside when I first wake up. Well, I was doing mine the other day, and I forgot that I slept naked! The poh-lice didn't mind much, though. I support the Policemen's Union!"

So why should people sleep in the nude? Clotilde Badeaux quoted from a Cosmopolitan article that cited, among reasons, it helps you sleep better, it helps release those beneficial hormones as melatonin and growth hormone from being disrupted, it helps you enjoy snuggling better because you release more oxytocin, it results in you having more sex, and it helps air things out down there to keep bacteria and fungi at bay. Because of the absence of ten-foot poles, no one touched that last one.

Now the kitty cat was let out of the bag. Still, Tina Moreau remarked that she normally slept nekkid; but when she wanted to do it, she put on that translucent red and black nightie. Whoa, Nelly; too much information for some! At least they learned a little about her b.f.'s tastes!

Clara Thibodeaux was unusually quiet. But then she said, "When I want to be laid, I wear my Confederate Flag nightie."

"Three questions were asked; but the most important one was "Why?"

Clara said, "Because I want the South to rise again!"

Double entendres still are the lingua franca in New Orleans.

[I got this idea from Bilbo's post a few weeks ago.]

Tearing Down Goal Posts

Fans tearing down goal posts after their team wins a football game is more likely to occur if their team wins a significant game, or they defeat an important rival institution, or snaps a losing streak of some magnitude.

An immediate consequence of Ohio State winning the national football championship in early January, 2015 was that some of its fans set nearly 90 fires in garbage cans, dumpsters, and sofas. They also tore down a goal post in Ohio Stadium. Police used tear gas and pepper spray on the unruly crowd, making several arrests in the process.

The goal post so abused was a temporary one used for high school games played in Ohio Stadium on the OSU campus.

The National Championship game itself was played earlier in Arlington, Texas; but the goal post torn down was in Columbus, Ohio. The goal posts in Texas were unmolested; but Big Ten fans are resourceful; and one goal post is just as good as another!

As to what happens to the goal posts afterward, it's hard to say. Most often they're left behind because of their weight. But one so taken down by jubilant Northwestern fans was thrown out of the stadium and then dumped into Lake Michigan!

Couyons at Large: Uff da!

In Cajun country we refer to real dumbasses as couyons. Looking at those reliable scenes as politics, journalism, and Hollywood, there's a lot of that going on nowadays.

Recently hunters in Norway shot a pair of moose. Kind of sad, isn't it, to see a pair of these regal animals downed so inauspiciously? Well, the story is more complicated and requiring a face palm. These moose were in a zoo! Neither the hunters nor their dogs were aware that they were now in protected territory. Something about the fence being down . . . . 

Uff da! Will these intrepid hunters rest on their laurels; or try for moose with bigger racks? (Like some guys try to trade up on a different kind of rack!)

Well, I'm kind of cool about hunting. Subsistence hunting is still a necessity for a small number of people; but shooting exotic critters for the sake of downing one is a real couyon move! Like that Minnesota dentist that made the news because he shot a lion. Did he eat any lion meat? Did nearby tribes benefit from eating lionburgers?

Now I'm not going to do the ostrich bit, and pretend that I don't know where the hamburgers or andouille comes from. No way! But shooting critters for the pure hell of it is a couyon move!

Well, maybe an exception can be made for members of the genus rattus. (Like the brown (Norwegian) rat, or the black rat. But maybe not. What about the Sprague-Dawley strain of Norwegian rat? They're albino, and have an easy to handle disposition suitable for use in laboratories. New York has a rat problem; not surprising, because rats were unplanned beneficiaries of agriculture and humans staying in cities. They even employ rat-catchers; but a few become turncoats and some have even come back with war brides.

Sheila: The Joy of Bubblegum Music

It's funny how some musical genres are déclassé in retrospect, despite their widespread popularity at the time. I believe that French yéyé music and depression era country music falls in that category; but the best example seems to be bubblegum music from the 1960's and 1970's. That's because they were specifically intended for pre- and early adolescent youth at the time the more strident hard rock and grunge music hit the scene; not to mention jazz rock groups like Chicago.

I heard an example of one on a station from Sweetwater, Tennessee called "Sheila." It had a Buddy Holly sound and I thought he was the performer (Think Peggy Sue). The singer is Tommy Roe, it was his first hit, and it definitely was done in the Lubbock style. Anyway, it's cheerful; and a relief from the somber news or pretentious stuff that some people put out. His sideburns are a hoot!

Changing Parishes to Counties

It's the Era of Bad Feeling; the dawn of the Age of Iconoclasm. First it was the Confederate flags and monuments. Right now four New Orleans monuments are in the process of being moved - where unspecified - due to Hizonner, the Mayor! And, like in many other places, the expedient position is to give the complaintants what they want rather than have some costly litigation that can go any odd way.

Anyway, I figure they will go; and I'll miss Creole General Beauregard [Burreygard], as he's pronounced in New Orleans.

But, flushed with this success, like Thomas Crapper, the crabs and common scolds now sought out to destroy additional targets.

One of the unique traits of Louisiana is that it has parishes, not counties. These came from original divisions corresponding to the river parishes back from the days of French and Spanish rule. Suppose some people favoring extreme separation of Church and State sued to change the names of Louisiana's local government areas from the churchy parishes to the righteous, California- and New York-approved counties? Yes, some of them would! Furthermore, some of those parishes carried saints' names! Yes, there were St. Bernard, St. Helena, St. James, St. Charles, St. Martin, St. Mary, St. John the Baptist, St. Tammany, and Landry Parishes.

The plaintiffs threw in Ascension Parish just to be safe. It sounded vaguely religious, as Louisiana had little need for elevators in that river parish. [The plaintiffs missed Assumption Parish, think it had to do with making assumptions. They made the wrong assumption.]

Well, the locals in those places were, like, really pissed! And they didn't roll over too easy. They pointed out that they changeover would entail prohibitive costs of new signage, new stationary, new paint jobs on deputies' cars, and new decorations the numerous courthouses, 64 in number. But, most of all, they feared that documents with the old name would be null and void. This would negate all marriage licenses and birth certificates before the court-mandated name change! Kind of reaching, but anything is fair when you don't want things done.

Yes, the number of parishes crept up to 64 by the 20th century. Actually, for a while the state had both parishes and counties until the Constitution of 1845 made them all parishes.

Actually, some parishes being called that did not preclude them being havens for wickedness: East Baton Rouge, Jefferson, and Orleans being the most known for dishonesty and vice. And one of the "saint" parishes was not named about anyone cited in hagiography: There is no Saint Tammany! St. Tammany was named after the Delaware Chief Tamanend, who was not Catholic or Episcopalian. He made peace with William Penn and was known for his goodness.* As a matter of fact, Tammany Hall in NYC was named after him.

Well, you likely know how this was going to turn out. The court mandated that parishes would henceforth be changed to counties, and that eight of the nine "saint" parishes would have a court nominated name change. St. Tammany Parish became plain old Tammany County. The other eight became Alpha through Hotel Counties, in all.

The court declared the older documents still valid. After all, an attorney can be a son of a bitch; but don't call him a bastard!

Seeing this nomenclature change befalling the Pelican State, some extreme Tea Party types threatened a suit to change the four Commonwealths**  to mere States, feeling that Communism is implied in that term. Thomas Hobbes rolled over in his grave!

*Even though, during his life, he did not meet General Philip Sheridan's criterion for a good Indian.
**Massachuetts, Virginia, Pennsylvania, anf Kentucky

The Red-Headed Schoolteacher Tries Out Politics

The task of filling out a political slate in small counties can be problematic, especially if some of the offices do not have obvious sources of graft to go with them. This was the problem of the up-and-coming Solid American Party (SAP) in Averill County: they did not have a bench of aspirants who might be content to get into the game for mere exposure, unlike the local Republicans and Democrats. In truth, the Solid American Party was regarded as nothing more than a cabal of kooks, tinfoil helmet wearers, and renegades from the acceptable and God-given plan of the two party system.

Some would even label these upstarts as dangerously antithetical to the American Way of Life!

So the Solid American Party faithful scoured for possibilities who had not firmly committed one way or another. They were canny; and wanted to get the women vote. Hopefully, by finding women who represented hard-core family values. And what could be more hard-core than having a commitment to education? Thus, the SAP leadership approached Anne, the Red-Headed Schoolteacher to be their candidate for County Sheriff!

The incumbent Democrat was rumored to be as crooked as a ram's horn; and the Republican candidate was caught in a raid on a brothel. Thus, the possibility of a third party candidate winning was within the realm of reality!  

The Red-Headed Schoolteacher had Billy Bob and Bubba on her team; and they persuaded the low-life of the county to register to vote. After all, they recognized having pull with the govamint was a big deal, sho nuff! They met with Long Tall Sally and a local beer distributor to work on the campaign literature (he was the major source of funding for the SAP candidates).

Anyway, what should our perky ginger stand for in County politics and policing? Her brain trust (to use this term loosely) came up with a few ideas:

1.  More random license checks on back roads.

2.  Morning prayers for both jailers and prisoners to reduce in-jail conflicts.

3.  Dressing the chain gang in Virginia Tech sportswear.

4.  Conjugal visits for prisoners and jailers.

And there was the elephant in the room: underfunding and underpaying of the sheriff's department.

But, true to form, the primary issue perennially confronting law enforcement in a dry county was enforcement of the local prohibition law. The Democratic candidate reliably got support from some libertines because he ran on a platform of repealing the prohibition law. The Republican ran on a platform of strict enforcement; with support from some local churches (so much for separation of church and state).

So how was Anne, the Red-Headed Schoolteacher, going to handle this issue?  If she came out one way or another, she would split the support of one of the other two parties, and the other party would win!

Well, Anne read a Moron's Guide to Politics, and hatched a cunning plan: Because the department was underfunded, she said that she would deploy deputies in enforcing the prohibition law on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday since those were statistically the days in which DUIs and bootlegging were at their peak! This gave the Republicans a dilemma: they could put up for full funding at the price of raising taxes! Of course, the "wets" could learn to operate and misbehave on a different schedule.

Politics is still the art of the possible! And learning to juggle partisan issues with bipartisan solutions.

Dildoes on a Texas Campus

Shootings on college campuses have made the news lately; and the Governor of Texas recently signed a Senate bill allowing for open carrying of guns on public campuses. This will effectively make some campuses return to the wild west days! What next? Dance halls and saloon girls? Playing poker openly? 

In response to making open carrying of guns on campus legal, concerned University of Texas students advocate an open carrying of dildos on the University of Texas campus! I'm not sure of the full reasoning behind it, except that public display of sex toys are illegal in the Lone Star State but now guns are not! Does the Texas legislature fear more from dildos than guns?

Perhaps this kind of ironic protest was not the best idea. Dildos may become another accessory to be differentiated by style and taste. I can imagine some upscale Dallas students saying, "I wouldn't be caught dead carrying a red or purple dildo!" or a fashion section of a Texas newspaper proclaiming, "Banana yellow vibrators are the in thing this year with the fashion-conscious."

And etiquette questions will undoubtedly arise: 1) Are guys also allowed to carry a dildo? 2)  Is carrying more than one dildo the equivalent of having too many piercings? 3) Are some dildo styles more appropriate for formal occasions? 

While some Texas guys might become jealous of their ladies' dildos, I imagine that more would be inclined to encourage them to carry supersized dildos. After all, image is everything in our very public open culture and no self-respecting guy wants to be seen as inadequate!

And would a person having more than one be regarded as a slut? We're talking about a possible morality gap here!

While I can sympathize with the Texas students' frustration of guns and shootings on campuses, I am too inhibited to carry one openly. Also, I think that the act of women carrying dildos on campus effectively makes for distractions to classroom presentations that no soundness or depth of preparation on my part could counteract. Maybe Texas instructors are better at it!

Who knows? We may even see automobile bumper plates bearing slogans like, "You can take my dildo when you pry it out of my cold dead fingers."

Tales of Juror Selection

While the foundation of our legal system is based on trials by a jury of peers, sometimes it's hard to fill the court dance card, except for the unending number of defendants and attorneys making their livelihood as remoras on the system.

The periodic need for jurors had occurred again for the Orleans Parish Criminal District Court, and the judge signed off on another slate of potential jurors to serve as a jury of peers in a number of coming criminal cases. Naturally, the prosecutors and the defense attorneys scrutinized the list of potential jurors; but this time none of the names stood out. Apparently none of the attorneys or the judge had any familiarity with St. Cletus's Parish or the Marigny District First Baptist Church.  Thus, they were totally in the dark as to what these summons dragged in. While the potential jurors looked promising, there were some curiosities.

Having spent a hard night dancing at work, Suzanne the Existential Stripper came in costume. Well, she re-dressed for the beginning part of her act and waited in the courtroom.

Crazy Chester appeared in all his splendor. He listed his occupation as a equine actuary and gave the judge a tip on today's daily double. Criminal Court took an unusually long lunch recess and the judge came back smiling.

Madeline the Prophetess was also present. She requested a delay in service so she could do a novena for an L.S.U. win. Her delay in jury service was duly granted.

When asked by the judge to explain her reason to be excused from jury duty, Marie d'Aquin replied, "I was going to get a boob job." She was handily excused, but asked to come back to show the results!

When asked about his beliefs, The Lucky Dog Guy said, "Jury nullification and Dixie Beer." All of the decision-makers sensed trouble, and let him go. Loyola philosophers are a force to be reckoned with.

Crazy Chester was asked if he had any biases that might affect him making an impartial judgment. He said, "I just can't trust his defense attorney; he graduated from the Ole Miss School of Law and is surely a scoundrel!"

Clotilde Badeaux was channeling Princess Leia and dressed the part, even to the squash blossom hairdo.

Brother Bob asked if he could have a moment for Divine Guidance while serving on the jury. The District Attorney protested, saying Bette Midler should not tamper with the jury.

Al Gautreaux asked to be excused so he could surreptitiously film the Saints' opponent while practicing. He was excused with the judge's blessing.

Yvette the Mortician was also called. One of the lawyers asked if she knew any of the prosecution or defense lawyers. She responded, "You picked me up in a bar five years ago."

Henrietta, the Voodoo Queen, was the first impaneled. The defendant promptly pleaded "guilty," as did the prosecutor.

Another defendant, when seeing the empaneled jury, said, "Is this what you consider a jury of my peers? These losers are too dumb to get out of jury duty!"

An unidentified bouncer from Bourbon Street asked the judge if he could daylight in court as a bouncer as well as have his nighttime job.

The jurors who were the chosen ones were taken to a nice restaurant each day they served. Justice rewards the virtuous. They were, however, limited to two beers apiece for lunch.

No such limitations were placed on the court reporter or the bailiff.

"Don't You Know Who I Am?"

A few prominent people, especially in entertainment or politics, have attempted to play the celebrity card: "Don't you know who I am?" One case in particular, a blonde actress in several movies, used something approximate to this when she was stopped for a D.U.I. offense. 

And sometimes this appeal to celebrity status works. This is especially if the user can bring to bear mucho local clout! Well, in the mountainous counties, a local deputy or constable or some minor lawman stopped a county official and righteous church deacon (and local bootlegger) named Purvis hauling a truckload of liquor and beer into a dry county. Since he looked suspiciously driving fast and weaving on the road with so many curves, the deputy turned on his siren to have a look-see. 

Well, he strode up to the truck, asked to see the driver's license, and started to question the driver about his load. You see, this was a highway off the beaten path, a road known both as the Tail of the Dragon and as the Road to Perdition. It was a favorite for bravos or fools to demonstrate their edginess by having a few for the road and then driving the Tail of the Dragon. 

Well, ol' Purvis tried to play the celebrity card" "Don't you know who I am?" 

Well, the deputy didn't know him from Adam, so he guessed.

"Miley Cyrus?"

Well, that got ol' Purvis in a fighting way; but that was not a good plan. The deputy bopped him on the noggin; and told him, "You dumb ass! You just crossed the state line. Welcome to North Carolina. You inna dry county, sweetheart! And you gonna go to jail. Do not go past go!"

Sometimes deacons got to trust the Lord and use their G.P.S.

Billy Bob and Bubba Go Tailgating

Every weekend when there is a home football game, the tailgaters move in to occupy parking spaces near the football stadium. They would come in SUVs RVs, and even Hummers to this destination. Having claimed their spot in the parking lot, they then take a nostalgia stroll on the campus. Gosh, being a student was fun when they attended the University; not like the present-day crowd seems to operate.

Not all were former students, though. Dirt Road Sports Billy Bob and Bubba, having been given a ticket to park on campus, decided to try it out! Yes, they borrowed Gramp's RV that he would use for NASCAR events (Talladega and Bristol races not going on that weekend) for a case of Bud Lite and took the Pointless Sisters along. The Pointless Sisters, Marge and Maybelle were reputed to be as easy as Kentucky girls, and about as smart as the typical legislator! 

Being in the learning-what-to-do stage, they observed what the other tailgaters were doing, and got an eye-opening sociological lesson! First of all, the tailgaters were what some psychologist fella would call an extrovert and not consider that to be a fightin' word. They would set up their tables, their grills, and pop open a cold one to enjoy the Friday morning. They set out a spread of barbecue, beans, corn bread, and dessert, and found that they would make new friends if they shared with acquaintances and get invites to their tailgates also.

The less inhibited tailgaters would make catcalls to passing college girls, whether they were sluttily dressed or not. Most were 15-25 years older than the girls so serenaded. (Kind of like being next to a rude big city construction site.)

Well, the Dirt Road Sports were having such a good time that they got more beer and food, and brought an additional ice chest with possum, raccoon, and duck meat in it as well as the bratwurst, pork ribs,and pulled pork. The partying became generally rowdier as the evening progressed. The students wisely stayed away from the bacchanalian as the tailgaters and their wives or squeezes partied like it was 1999! (At least one tailgater brought both!) The night before the game party fizzled out by around 2 A.M.

The next day, after a leisurely breakfast, Billy Bob, Bubba, and the Pointless Sisters had a leisurely breakfast of coffee, link sausage, and grits and lazily got into gear for the pregame party. They figured that they could slip into the stadium at halftime without tickets and catch up with the other tailgaters.

Well, the worthless lot of the tailgating crowd was pretty well three sheets to the wind, (and breaking some wind besides.) As a matter of fact, more than half of them continued to drink and feast in the parking lot while listening to the game on the radio or watching it on television! 

This was a revelation to Bubba: "Hell, gals! These old college types as pretty much like us. They just want to get drunk, laid, yack, and eat too much while partying over the weekend! The game is just an excuse for a party."

Sunday morning the tailgaters woke up with hangovers and got packed up to go back to their homes. Unrepentant, they started to count the days until the next football game weekend. Some tailgaters even followed their team when they were on the road and had a splendid road trip!

Chicken Bristle

Earlier, in my post on speed traps, thought I made up a fictional place: Chicken Bristle, Kentucky. Bilbo posted a comment about finding it on a GPS. I went, "Whoops!"

It turns out that there is a Chicken Bristle, KY. It's an unincorporated community in Lincoln County.  That county has some other interesting communities: Preachersville, Dog Walk, Miracle, Blue Lick, O K, and Jumbo.

To complicate things a bit further, there is a Chicken Bristle, IL. I'll check Google or some other source before I just make things up.

Oh Speed Trap, Where Is Thy Sting?

Speed traps are among the hazards that motorists occasionally encounter: communities that have abrupt changes in speed limits that appear to be without reasonable excuse and are meant primarily as revenue-generators rather than as safety means.

Of course, a speed trap, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Not that the two have other kinds of resemblance.

Many states have their notorious speed traps. There is Ludovici, GA, known for having been located on a north-south route that was heavily trafficked. And Hopewell, VA: a small community that generated about $1.8 million per year from traffic fines. It has been referred to as The Million-Dollar Mile by AAA. Stringtown, OK generated 76% of its budget from traffic fines! Some other speed traps to mention are located in Washington, LA, Lawtey, FL, Mound City, IL, and Killen, AL. 

However, some states, notably Florida and Oklahoma, have enacted state laws that limit the amount of revenue that towns can obtain from traffic fines. Virginia recently passed a law setting a limit of 30% of a town's budget can be generated through traffic fines; hopefully limiting the attraction for having speed traps or at least getting the state in the act. The state would get the excess revenue generated by the speed trap cap into a state literacy fund.

So what is likely to occur in places where this would happen?

Well, some places might seriously maintain a speed trap for only part of the year, and do it less in other times. In other words, go where the money is!

The state getting the amount over the cap can result in the state having a vested interest in the speed trap. So, if the locals don't set one up for part of the year, the State Police might have to fill in the gap. Particularly if the money in excess of the cap goes to something that the state always needs to increase revenues, like education or state employees' payroll!

Or they can follow the example of Chicken Bristle, KY, and establish a Speed Trap gift shop, where speeding Midwesterners can purchase souvenir t-shirts, mugs, lucky key chains, and other souvenirs of Chicken Bristle. Who knows? This gift shop, because of its eccentricity, might cause less of the speeding that the speed trap was supposed to control.*

There's more than one way to skin a possum, as they say there.

But there's another way. Erect a billboard warning of a speed trap ahead:

Here's Waldo!

Or this one that years ago a former Georgia Governor had erected. There must be an interesting story behind this:

*This paragraph is purely fictional.

Is It Okay to Go Outside in Your Nightgown?

The annual meeting of the New Orleans Eccentrics' Union had the question-and-answer session, and there were the usual how-to questions that speakers had to field from those needing info on how to be all the eccentric they were meant to be. In this case, the question raised was in two delicate areas: morality and fashion. Now New Orleans as a medium-sized city has opinions galore; opinions to rival Rome on morality and San Francisco on fashion! So this question glided like a manhole cover towards The Monseigneur. the expendable cleric de jour who delivered the invocation.

The question, asked by Hortense Bordelon, was "Is it sinful or tacky to go outside to get the newspaper or water the lawn while you're still wearing a nightgown?

The Monseigneur hemmed and hawed, asked about the intention of the wearer, and how brief and revealing it happened to be. He also pled ignorance about what constitutes tackiness. But he quibbled and said that if the nightgown was transparent or short, it could constitute a near occasion of sin.

Fashion maven and local eccentric Maureen Glapion say that nightgown wearing should be kept to the boudoir; no au courant fashionista would dare appear even in the rec room (itself an unfashionable setting) in a nightgown, much less out-of-doors. She further averred that, in cases of dire need, the nightgown-wearer should at least wear a house coat!

Maven Maureen commented further that any appearance out of doors should always be preceded by putting on makeup as well. A proper fashion-conscious Orleanian should not risk being seen by the postman or the water meter reader without proper makeup and dressed seasonably appropriately. Meaning, don't go out in your bedroom slippers!

But Crazy Chester asked about guys' dress. Is it okay to go out in your boxer shorts, or should you wear pajamas? The thought of Crazy Chester wearing boxers stunned the audience briefly into silence. Would they be decorated in some pattern? Ms. Glapion recovered first, and answered "pajamas." The Monseigneur just looked amazed, as he was trying to digest these thoughts!

Madeline the Prophetess asked, "How about your L.S.U. nightshirt? Or is it okay to go out in your white guepiere to retrieve your Sunday Times-Picyaune if you are also wearing high heels?" The Monseigneur, not knowing what one is, said it was probably alright.

The next day, the Archbishop was reading his newspaper when he read the fashion page headline: "Monseigneur declares that it is fashionable and not sinful to wear a guepiere out of doors." The Archbishop groaned, and thought, "This sort of thing is a downside of priestly celibacy!"