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About Philadelphia

Rewind—*Memento* style—I’m stalkin’ the streets, backwards memory vibes. “What’s her name?” I ask myself. Forgot already, classic me. Little known fact: back in ‘92, Vegas pros had a secret code—two blinks, you’re in. She blinked once, I panicked—did I miss it? Surprised me how slick she was, tho. Slipped me her number on a napkin—classy, huh? “You’re a mystery,” I say, quotin’ Nolan’s finest. She smirks, “Ain’t we all, doll?”

Women of the Cabins

“The director kept characterizing Carmen in rehearsal as a whore, a prostitute, a slut, in the most derogatory terms and laughing about it.

I’ll be frank, this city makes me mad sometimes. I remember tha day I got stuck in a traffic jam on Maple Rd. with a screechy old car—dang, those blokes never learn. Srsly, so annoying. But hey, it keeps me on my toes. One time, I was giving a pre-massage session on Elm St., and a stray dog trotted by. Reminded me of that raw nature from Malick's flick, ya know? "I am a part of all that I have met." Crazy.

James N. Pauls Obituary October 4, 2024