I don’t believe there is such a thing as a 10 when it comes to women. A 10 is perfect. Perfection is impossible to achieve. I also think this about most things. However. If this Saturday was a chick. She’d be a strong 8.5.
Started off the day at coops place which is this hole in the wall that has amazing food. We shared and oyster po boy, the jambalaya deluxe and some crab stuffed jalapeños. It was all awesome.
We then ran across the street to grab some cafe au laits and on the way I smashed my head into this giant beam. Like really hard. Man on a mission hard. I could feel my teeth hard. Hahahaha this waiter felt so bad he ran over to get us what we wanted in the long ass line instead. I was a little loopy and ordered us the wrong fucking coffee. I’m such a cunt sometimes.
For those of you don’t know me. I shit like a toddler. It just comes. Indiscriminately. Fast. Usually runny. By this point it should be abundantly clear but I’m a fat animal with a poor diet and strong love of all things that can fuck me up. I also sweat a lot. Like think of the person who know who sweats the most and pour a glass of water on his head. When I have to poo and cannot go within a 40 second window my sweat glands open up at 5 times the velocity. The coffee has stirred my bowels. About 8 city blocks away from the hotel.
This is a fucking mission now. I will make it to the hotel. Sweating. Shaking. Faith in tow laughing at me. The trek back went from a normal paced walk to me just about jogging. As in groaning in the streets with my ass tucked in I hear faith literally stop and just laugh and laugh. Fuck her my ass waits for no man or woman or child. I get into an almost sprint. Just a fast enough speed where I won’t shut my pants while running. Get into the lobby and the elevator doors are open. SWEEEET
Inside is an unsuspecting mother and her child. This is only 9 floors. But I’m sweating like I ran a marathon. I’m letting my hair grow out so its like Johnny bravo and I have that look of terror like something is going to happen. Another couple hops on and this 45 second elevator ride of small talk has just upped the ante. The doors open and I full on sprint to the room. Shaking trying to open the door I rip off my pants and start shitting on the way down. The speed and force of said excrement was so intense it splashed everywhere. My ass, my back, the tub, the toilet seat, the outside of the tub. But God damn was I happy. Have you ever courtesy flushed for yourself? If you haven’t then you don’t know what sadness truly smells like.
Part of me thinks I should keep a little self respect and not post this. But that wouldn’t be fun would it.
Such a fucking animal.
After my shit storm and the obligatory shower we tried to walk up to cemetery number 1 and when we got there it said we needed a tour guide. Mother fucker. Faith decided it was time to start drinking. Grand idea.
We walk our asses down to bourbon street and decide to go to this balcony bar that had three for one beers. 3 for $9 😉 haha but it’s all good.
So before I continue the debautchery. For those of you who don’t know a part of Louisiana had some really bad flooding over the past couple of weeks. Baton Rouge being the heart of the destruction. It’s terrible but a really important realization that anything can happen at anytime. Always try to make the best of everything. Even when like sucks. It’s beautiful. Don’t take it for granted.
So I walk out onto the balcony and there’s a group of a bachelor party to the left and this big Cajun white dude by himself to the right. I walk over to stand next to him and look for titties. A conversation starts and I ask him where he’s from. He says Baton Rouge. I know immediately there’s not going to be very much happiness in the next sentence.
“I lost everything. I had to sleep in an Applebee’s parking lot and wore the same clothes for two days because I couldn’t get to my house. My boy made it there before me and that’s what hurt me the most. He grew up with me from 6 years old and I didn’t want him to see it like that. But my boy called me and said its gone dad. It’s all gone. But we had a good run and was trying to cheer him up. With some small tears on his eyes he smiled and told me but we are tough people. And those things are just materials. I’m hurt for my son. Other then that it can all be replaced.”
I gave him a big bear hug and tried not to tear up myself because I’m a sentimental pussy. It’s just one of those super real moments where you see how strong people can be. That even faced with losing everything and telling me the water was above was it level throughout his entire home there is still optimism. His girlfriend and two other friends came over and we all started bullshiting and they were even more cheerful then he was. With that fuck it attitude they told me they had purchased their def leopards tickets and month ago and figured what the hell. Might was well enjoy it. And I totally agree. We hung out drinking for quite a bit and exchanged hugs and lots of laughs. Super awesome people. My hearts with you.
Don’t worry it gets fun again. Really fun. We start hanging out with the giant bachelor party next to us and they are all being belligerent and hilarious. Yelling for tits. Yelling to yell. Throwing beads at random women. Just hilarious shit. Faith decides to be kind to these poor fellows and provide tits for beads. She’s a good soul.
After it was time to go to the early showing at preservation hall. If there was only one thing you got to do in New Orleans other then drink on bourbon st; is should be go to preservation hall. It’s probably the place I smile the biggest in the world. Granted I love music. But there is something about that atmosphere it’s just perfect. Also I am so handsome.
Fun fact. In New Orleans you can have your own cop escorted parade for a few hundred bucks. We saw two back to back. Super awesome.
Yes I wanted to eat that ass like a ripe peach. Look at it.
The rest of the night is seriously heavy drinking. Hanging out with a bachelor party. Dressing up as pikachu. Enjoying great music as that dingy ass bar.
We ran back to the room to pound the last 10 beers, listen to some Patrice O’neil and head out. We ran up bourbon street and grabbed beers on the way Frenchmen. We stopped at that same dingy bar again listened to music and hung out with pikachu.
Frenchmen street is like the place where you have the chaos of bourbon. But the mix of the locals. It was pretty bad ass. We met up with this awesome bachelor party and I may meet up with them in Minnesota.
They stopped off at the titty bar but they wouldn’t let me in since I had a sleeveless shirt on. Thank god. I really don’t like tityy bars. Pay to get teased. No thanks. We got one more beer but by this point it was like 4am and starting to dwindle. Time to pack it in.
The pictures are clearly out of order.
The bottom line is. This city knows how to party. It also knows how to stick together. So far there’s a lot many areas of this country and learn from that. As always. Love you all.
“New Orleans would be the worst place on earth, if it wasn’t the greatest plac on
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