Bless Us. Now.

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Negotiations on the purchase of the house I want in New Orleans continue, with the sellers unimpressed with my big words or the fact the house is sitting on a potential cholera pit.  I wanted them to come down $35,000 on the price, they came back with an offer of $8,000.  That is not, as the real estate industry would have it, “a lot of movement.”

And I am concerned my realtor may not be the pit bull negotiator one would hope for.  I know this is shallow, but the last time I saw him, he was wearing coral colored jeans and loafers with no socks.  As Super Agent Fred pointed out, he was a short step from wearing a sweater jauntily knotted about his shoulders.  So being fierce at the bargaining table, maybe, probably not.

Just in case, I have decided to create a virtual shrine to various saints and other voodoo whatnots that might be of help.

First up, we have Saint Roch, since the house is on the street named in his honor.  He’s specially invoked against the plague, which is appropriate since I have AIDS and because of the raw sewage hanging around under the house.  He is also sometimes one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers.  I’m charmed by the fact that this is just a part-time gig for him.

He also would appear to be a medieval can-can dancer.  Get it on, girl.

We’re also including an old favorite, Our Lady of Prompt Succor.  This is a title of the Virgin Mary and she is the patroness of New Orleans and Louisiana.  She’s who you turn to when things go bad and you need help in a hurry, and god knows, that happens plenty in New Orleans.  Just as a side note, I’ll admit that I’ve also occasionally been referred to as  Our Lady of Prompt Succor, usually at some bathhouse or the other, but that’s neither here nor there.

Plus she’s a snappy dresser.

St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes is on the list, as he on plenty of others, just in case.

Besides he’s kind of humpy.

Lastly, Saint Justin of DeRoy cause look how clear his skin is.  Right?

24 responses »

  1. sigh, things had sounded so wonderful.

    i'm hoping you don't feel that you must have this house. if you do, oy.
    if you don't, good. don't let the difficult logistics force your decision.

    you'll go back and find another. a better one.

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  2. Exactly. If ind myself wanting to egg him on: “Come on honey, don't' take any crap off that swanky bitch. Get in there and punch. Here, I'll hold your jewelry.” Which I would pronounce as “joo-ry.”

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  3. I'd be annoyed too; despite the price of the house, that's a ridiculous counter to your counter. I'm starting to think they actually don't want to sell this place . . .

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  4. The mother of Jesus is long overdue a makeover in my opinion, perhaps frock guru Gok Wan could go trolling around catholic countries jazzing up the roadside grottos of Madonnas out with the boring blue and white and in with the black leather and leopard print with hints of cerise, sexy but not slutty.

    I'm not a catholic but I do recite this poem if I've lost something. It usually turns up within the hour.

    Something's lost and can't be found
    Please St Anthony look around.

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  5. The Relator that the Husband and I had when we moved to Baltimore was pretty much a waste of time. He wasn't aggressive in finding a house for us, we had to do the work. This leads us to believe very strongly that he is a big bottom.

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  6. Just like mr peenee to recognize that Cholera is the new black. much good juujuu being sent your way via rickshaw. kabuki never feels the deal is complete until the seller is in tears. Tears, kabuki demands this.

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  7. May I recommend St. Thomas Aquinas, doctor angelicus, for his abundance of knowledge ? St. Roch's wound btw came lower and lower over the years; originally it was found at the upper beginning of the leg.

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