Henry was doing my hair on Friday and he was going over just how utterly absurd the Marinello murder case is – and believe me it is pure, unadulterated New Orleans crime at its best. Kind of like the Free Carmella days. Henry is a total stone fox, with a great body, and lots of junk in the trunk, which is one of the reasons I still go to him even while I won’t let him cut my hair (only David in SF can do that) but Henry watches what he eats so much I told him that he’s boring – he won’t go to Taqueria Corona right across from him and get a taco, instead it is the same salad every day. Whatyagonnado? He always brushes my hair for a long time after he has dried it. This time while he was brushing and brushing, he told me that if a man could crack my code, he’d win the lottery.
I reminded him that many a lottery winner suffers regret after their windfall.