Me see where Chris Rose take long break from his duties. He no longer can handle stress and devastation of city. Me want to know why he get time off and me do not. Me tell NOLAFugees me not work until Rose go back to work. Me demand equal treatment. Me out there in trenches long enough.

In meantime, me place wagers on NFL playoffs. Me lose ass on Redskins and Patriots Saturday. Me victim of East Coast media bias in making selections. Then me get killed taking Peyton Manning and Colts. Goddamnit!! Saints bad enough. He destroy hopes of Uptown supporters.

Me now looking into teaser bet involving Saints head coach hire and 1st round draft pick. Teaser involve four options. Me ponder current odds:

White head coach/White quarterback 1-1
White head coach/Black quarterback 2-1
Black head coach/White quarterback 3-1
Black head coach/Black quarterback 8-1

Me consider parlay with mayoral race, but me wait to see what Peggy Wilson decide to do.

But as me sit here on Martin Luther King day, me also reflect on lost idealism.

Back in ’68, me life was all about junkie heiress bitches at Andy Warhol’s Factory. Me live on Champagne, Benzedrine, and art-house orgies. Hedonism viable lifestyle.

Then on April 4 that all change. Me realize me need to work for cause larger than meself. My clean up and take job with nonprofit public television gig aimed at barrio children. And for awhile it fulfilling. But throughout 70s cynicism creep in. Fame corrupt me. It bring dealers to me door, and soon me back in old cycle. Me find new crop of junkie heiress bitches at Studio 54. Next decade a blank.

By the time Clinton come around, me no longer believe in rhetoric of brotherhood. Children turn into savages. Junkie heiress bitches have longer attention span. Besides, too much money in endorsement deals. Warhol right all along when he say making money only real art. People paying me to be on chip clips and underwear. Me not care. It all about Dead Presidents, not Dead Civil Rights Leaders.

But on day honoring King memory, holed up in NOLAFugees office, me feel pang of guilt. Why odds still favor white man? Why me gamble on city’s racial divide? Why coaches and quarterbacks not judged by content of character? Questions not have easy answers.

Today me feel me deserve to lose ass on NFL playoff games. It have purging effect. Maybe me even stick with shitty nonpaying internet gig to atone. Maybe NOLAFugees me road to redemption.