Almost home after my extensive wind-down road trip vacation... A week in the Florida Keys, then up to St. Petersburg for the Dali Museum, and a stop in the 'Big Easy' on our way back home. It's Monday morning, and after a night of excessive gambling and drinking, food and fun, I stepped out onto the patio overlooking St. Ann St, and was greeted by a traveling performer whom sang me a Katrina song. Nice touch. Have to get going, too much to see to be stuck here talking to you fucks...
I don't think I want to see Lomotil's boobs. He has a hairy face, so, well, you know. shudders at the thought
*whew* - finally home - I'll be posting details from the vacation in a new thread... Don't think many people give a fuck about the French quarter anymore...
I haven't been there since Katrina washed away the vomit from the gutters. I suppose it's been replaced since then.
I tell ya, one must really watch their step whilst in the French Quarter - we had to step over piles of human feces (complete with footprints leading away from it in either direction) - and there was one man standing on the corner, facing everyone, taking a piss - but his pants were unbuttoned. Piss running straight down his pants, coming out at the shoe, leaving a stream for passers-by to step over. I swear, people there just do not give a fuck.
