Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Posted By:
Anna Marschalk-Burns
Photo:
Anna Marschalk-Burns
Gene's Po-Boys
So maybe you find yourself stumbling down St.Claude with fishnet stockings inexplicably braided through your hair and some suspicious bruises. And suddenly you see the hot pink exterior of Gene's calling out to you, beckoning you with flat soda and po-boys. Flakey, crunchy french bread po-boys cradling a spicy hunk of meat, smothered in cheese, drenched in mayo. Pure hedonism wrapped in sandwich paper. This is going to hurt later, you tell yourself but no more than a hangover or a sex sustained groin sprain. And in that vein, it's a sacrifice you will be willing to make, should make, again and again and again.
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