NOLA: 2 Weeks Later

So here we are, 2 weeks after the fall NOLA trip...everything was looking so good then...how quickly it can come crashing down. The once 5-0 GMEN are now on a 3 game losing streak with an extremely tough schedule ahead, the goddamn Phillies and Yankees are in the World Series (and I'm forced to become a 10-day Yanks fan according to the principles of the Lesser-Of-Two-Evils law), and that supposed Indian summer turned very cold, very quickly. But why dwell on the negatives when you can dwell on New Orleans?

After one of the worst travel days ever: half of an airplane drink cart's contents spilled all over my jeans, completely incompetent airline employees, and the craziest in-flight thunderstorm I've ever seen, I finally arrived at 4am Friday. Terrible. But at least there was a shit-ton of Jacques-Imo's and Crabby Jack's leftovers in the fridge for me to get a taste of what I missed on Thursday. Woke up early Friday on a few hours sleep, ready to kick it in the ass...a nice run to Oak Street Cafe got me back in the NOLA state of mind right quick. A little live jazz music, some freshly baked cake doughnuts, and the best egg dish known to man...Eggs Beauregard. 2 buttermilk biscuits, topped with 2 sausage patties, topped with 2 poached eggs, all smothered in white gravy (and my own hot sauce addition) with potatoes (or grits) on the side. If you've never had it, imagine an edible heaven topped with white gravy. Yeah it's that good.

After breakfast, we did what any self-respecting southerner would do on a Friday morning...we went shootin'. After a quick drive to The Shooter's Club in Harahan, we rented a couple of Glocks (.40 & .45) and popped off a few rounds.

Only in the deep south do they supply you with targets that look like these:

I was proud to see how packed that place was on a Friday at 11am...that crazy redneck owner should write a thank you letter to President Obama for the spike in business and the exorbitant ammo prices he can charge due to the Great Bullet Shortage Of 2009.

Anyway, we followed the range up with a quick tour of ol' 828 Broadway...that place is as much of a shithole as ever...literally 2-3 foot high piles of trash and old furniture on every front stairwell landing (which was definitely worse than when we lived there), mold all over the place, and obviously no working locks on the doors in the murder capital of the country ha. Plus my former penthouse apartment was converted from 2BR to 4BR and now its just a shittier version of the other units. What a shame.

The next few hours get a little hazy...Boot happy hour, Drago's (don't ever eat there...terrible service and AWFUL food other than the char-grilled oysters), Harrah's and then a little stroll down Bourbon to Pat O's, Gold Mine, etc.

Saturday...the weather was perfect and we headed down to the CBD to Lafayette Square Park on St. Charles for the Crescent City Blues & BBQ Fest. It was basically a Fall version of French Quarter Fest with amazing BBQ platters like pulled pork, cochon de lait poboys, delicious jerk chicken, and about 9 different types of sausages (pork, gator, crawfish, etc...). And some pretty good local blues acts up on stage too..

After feasting and a few beers to wash it down, we ventured into the quarter, wandered around for a few hours...of course we ended up at the Chart Room as usualy for Chartreuse shots and Budweiser pony cans...I'll admit, as gross as that shit is, it really gets you going. In the words of Quentin Tarantino, "Chartreuse, the only liqueur so good they named a color after it."

Eventually, after boozing in the sun for hours, we found our way to Yo Mama's on St. Peter's (directly across from Pat O's side entrance) for a burger. I sacrilegious as it sounds, Port Of Call was just too far at that point in the day. Plus we figured, why not try something new? So this place is a dark, shit-hole bar (what bar in NOLA isn't...) with 2 tables, which were full. So we snag some seats at the bar and take a look at their menu which had at least 15 different crazy burgers. I see one in particular and had a "When in Rome" moment...the Peanut Butter Burger. As strange as it sounded, I couldn't resist ordering it. When the fuck else am I gonna eat a peanut butter & bacon burger? So after a couple of Abitas and the tatted up female bartenders offering their opinions on bush shots in the latest Playboy sitting on the bar in front of us...my feast arrives:

Yeah...that's peanut butter with a pile of bacon on top...and a LOADED baked potato. And I'll tell you what...it was pretty fucking good. By the end, I was a little sick of peanut butter, and maybe just a little sick in general considering it's a 1 pound patty plus all that other shit on the plate. But overall I'm happy I tried it. If I ever go there again (I definitely wish I discovered this place when I lived there), I'll probably stick with the more standard burger choices, which were quite delicious.

After another rowdy night downtown, we somehow woke up at 8:30am on Sunday, packed the car full of Budweisers, threw on the Mardi Gras/SB XLII-tested Eli jersey and hauled ass to the Superdome.

(Amazing Side Note: While tailgating I noticed the still-Katrina-ridden Hyatt next to the dome...the "H" had fallen off one of the main signs, leaving only "YATT"...If you ever lived in NOLA you know just how incredible that is...I tried to take a pic, but it was blurry)

Finally got into the dome, sat in our amazing seats...and then it was all downhill after that...it

wasn't even a fucking game. It was 14-0 Saints before I blinked. That dome was the loudest sports venue I've ever experienced, and I've been to a lot of loud ones...you couldn't even talk to people 3 seats down from you. But you know what, when I walked out of that game, the sun was shining down on us on a perfect 75 degree October day and I was walking down the street with an open beverage in my hand...what a city. If a city can make you forget that your team just got Rhianna-ed in front of your eyes, then that's a special place. Follow that up with a little Sunday afternoon football at the Boot like the old days and I almost never left for the airport...

Overall, an incredible trip that lived up to the 4 month hype and I can't wait to go back for the Gras & JazzFest in 2010. See you there...

Drop Me Off In New Orleans!

So I'm off to the Big Sleezy tonight...if my flight ever leaves Miami.A nice 2 hour delay in NYC followed by another 2 hours in Miami really sucks but I guess now I know how the Jews felt wandering the desert for 40 years beore they got to the promised land.

In case anyone was wondering, I flew American airlines and I can tell you I'll never fly them by choice ever again. Terrible service, constant misinformation/blatant lying, and overpriced whiskey. Enough said. Just like Homeland Security has their no-fly list, so do I...as of today it includes: American Airlines, U.S. Airways (Sully notwithstanding), and AirTran. And believe me, it pains me to have to put the 2 most patriotic-titled carriers on my list...but wow do they suck both suck. I wish air travel could be more like the good old days. Maybe part of Obama's "Extreme Makeover: American Edition" needs to include some upgrades to the airlines that bear our collective name (or is that socialism if he sticks his nose in airline industry...?).

Anyway, I digress. Back to NOLA...This happens to be the longest I've been away from the city I love since I first moved there in 2003...and I couldn't be more excited for my return. The only thing we actually have "planned" is the Giants/Saints undefeated duel at the dome, where I'll be Sunday afternoon, front and center, to see the GMEN continue to stomp out the rest of the league. Should be a great game.

Other than that, it'll be a blurry mess of a walk down memory lane which I'm sure will take us to Pat Os, gold mine, bourbon cowboy, the dungeon, port of call, crabby jacks, the shooters club (haven't flexed my 2nd amendment muscles in over a year - not since I moved back up north actually...terrible) the Boot, the Palms, and more than likely, numerous trips to...HARRAHS! When I say we have nothing planned, I mean there are no set times for any of these events...we have a shit-ton of stuff on the agenda...and I'm pretty excited for my favorite coronary-inducing platters of fried heaven which I've gone waay to long without (although my body thanks me everyday).

I plan to indulge in almost everything this incredible city has to offer and live to tell about it...post to follow...y'heard!

The Rape Tunnel: Mankind's Greatest Social Experiment?

This simple wooden structure above, known as The Rape Tunnel - not to be confused with the now-discontinued, alleged New Orleans Rape Tunnel:



or the Lincoln Tunnel, which you can't drive through without getting fucked every time - could have been of one of the most controversial and thought-provoking social experiments ever created, instead it's just another run-of-the-mill internet hoax probably perpetrated by some douchebag artsy hipsters from Williamsburg. The plan is ingenious...you crawl through at your own risk, knowing full well that there is a psychotic, angry, rape-hungry maniac waiting on the other side in a dark room with no windows or doors. Think about it: If you make the conscious decision to enter The Rape Tunnel, then how can the act that occurs on the other side still be considered rape? By deciding to crawl through that tunnel, aren't you basically consenting to having sex...?


Anyway, the whole thing was fabricated: the interview, the artist and the works of "art" (including his previous stroke of genius, the Punch-You-In-The-Face Tunnel - I think you can guess how that one would have worked).


It's always good to see people pushing the envelope and testing the limits of what society can stomach. Too bad there isn't actually an artist who has the balls to pull something like this off.

The Real Big Mac

I can't think of a better way to begin than with a little story about the perfect sandwich:

2 All Beef Patties
Special Sauce
Lettuce
Cheese
Pickles
Onions
On A Sesame Seed Bun

The Big Mac...One of mankind's greatest culinary achievements, it tastes phenomenal, and you can get it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week...but let's be honest, sometimes one doesn't even fill you up. Our good friends at MacDonald's don't exactly pile on the beef (and I won't even get started on the content and origin of that indescribable mystery meat).


So while sitting on the couch last Sunday watching the GMEN stomp out the worst team in the NFL (the Chiefs), I had a stroke of genius...Being the proud American that I am, I thought to myself: I can make it bigger (and maybe, just maybe, I can make it better). After quick run to the store, 7 simple ingredients and a couple of flips on the grill, I had crafted a 9 inch-tall tower of burger brilliance...







After I devoured this monstrosity and washed it down with a couple of Budweisers, I realized two things: 1) I am a fat fuck and 2) Although my Mac dwarfed the real thing (and tasted pretty damn good), there truly is no substitute for an authentic Big Mac. God Bless you Ray Kroc.


I then digested until halftime and went for a short walk to get some ice cream (see "fat fuck" realization)...All in all, a pretty nice fall Sunday in America.