SURVIVOR, NEW ORLEANS

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Back home again.

You probably expected more postings of my trip to New Orleans. I have a good reason. I’m sick. Came down with something on Wednesday and still have it today. Yesterday was a whole day of waiting in the airport, flying, waiting in another airport, flying and finally arriving home after midnight. My ears still haven’t popped and if I find the person who stuffed 400 pounds of cotton into my brain, I’ll kill him.

New Orleans is a great town. We spent almost every night on Bourbon Street. We ate too much and we drank too much and somehow managed to squeeze a conference in at the same time.

The French Quarter is everything you’ve ever heard and more. Bourbon Street is a permanent party. It’s loud, it smells and you see things that you would never expect. For instance, a woman in a bridesmaid’s dress performing oral sex on a total stranger at 6 p.m on a Saturday night in the middle of the street. Drunks, families, packs of college age men and bare breasts at the drop of some beads. Two streets over you have Decatur. You can have a cheeseburger in paradise in Jimmy Buffet’s resturant and pick up a t-shirt that proclaims in big white letters “Fuck You You Fucking Fuck”. Public drinking is encouraged (see the picture below) and if beer isn’t your style, grab a Hurricane or a Hand Grenade, both high alcohol inhibition destroyers.

Stroll the Riverwalk, take a graveyard tour, ride the cable car to the garden district or hop a paddle wheeler and take a tour of the Mississippi. It’s all there.
Very few pictures available because I didn’t want to lose it in the mob.

One thought on “SURVIVOR, NEW ORLEANS

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