Boys, and girls, get your gyros and eggs wrap edibles at Magazine's finest establishment: the Pita Pit. Now, I know I am biased because Ryan works there but you can just suck my left kneecap if you don't like my product placement. Airplane Ryan G-Dog is the only one allowed to call me fagasaurus.
Now for my girl Taryn at PJs: here she is writing the next big novel. She tells me it is about a naive flight attendant who gets flak from her boss and takes refuge on a crazy, romantic mis-adventure in Paris. I cannot wait to read the finished copy Taryn!
Taryn is actually a novelist. Don't let her make you believe that she is a UPS employee.
Now the funny part is Ryan (Airplane) is not really a Pita Pit employee but rather an iconoclastic social critic who reads Lacan with the same voraciousness as a pissing horse.
This photograph is very good: it shows my two cousins, Zack and Elliot playfully fighting.
Hey Zack: you will make a great daddy one day!
Hey Elliot: one day you will have guns too!
Last but not least, Jonathan is getting ready for his big interview. He recently got a job at a Credit Union, and I thought he would think it sweet that I posted it here because he has been such a diligent reader of this blog. Thanks, John!
Stones of Erasmus — Just plain good writing, teaching, thinking, doing, making, being, dreaming, seeing, feeling, building, creating, reading
Showing posts with label pita pit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pita pit. Show all posts
4.8.09
Pita Pit on Mag has great customer service, et. al.
Labels:
family,
friends,
Journal & Rants,
new orleans,
pita pit
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)