Well i have officially popped my French quarter cherry. I went downtown stag the other night. This bar called one eyed jacks was having Eighties Night and the urge was too great. I decided to use my new found night owl status to camp this place out until i had a good time. However, by the time i got there i decided it would be a "good" night if i got home with all my cash and no new holes in me. Needless to say, it was on a stretch of dark streets and i parked about 6 months away since i had little idea what was kosher parking spaces (i learned that lesson fast and am now a semi professional parker).
Anyways the bar was cool. It looked like a gutted theatre with 1 bar in the foyer and 1 larger bar in the "theatre seating" section running right down the middle. It had a small stage with a couple hotties doing their "im a hottie" dance on their respective "hottie stools" while the last unicorn played silently on the screen behind them. Eighties blasted and the typical throngs of folks stood on the "dance" floor. Emboldened by the lack of repercussion and the $1 high lifes i jumped on the floor and started goin apey. Soon enough the floor was jumping and the good times, as they say, began to roll.
It was a shot in the arm. I got to dance with a few lovely ladies and one stopped me to introduce herself. She earned the titular role in this blog post. Her name was Hong. Hong told me she was having a b'day coming up bbq, crawfish boil, dancing, swimming pool etc... and she basically told me she wanted me to attend and be the hotty on the stool. I met her friend Yasmine who was also a tasty strumpet. We hung out the rest of the night critiquing the DJ's selections and i talked them into driving me to my car in exchange for me hosting their "walk to the car" party.
My roommates made several jokes about messing around with a girl named Hong. It has quickly become the newest Tre chic verb at 4611. I suggest you start using it before your friends do.
Last night i went to Mimi's and had the most amazing thing ive ever eaten drunk. It was called mushroom meshega or something. I have no words to describe, but washing it all down with Duvel while a zydeco band played in the background (think flicker size) was nearly enough to make me urinate on ever passer by in a shear psychotic fit of ecstasy.
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3 comments:
yoou are the shazam!
i thought about dressing only in military garb while im here and going by the name General Dong Wong and telling people that "all your capitalist boogy are belong to ME!"
i'd be kind of like Don Juan except i could only dance to a marching cadence and all the women i love belong to the state.
Man, it really sounds like you are having a good time! Last time I went to New Orleans... two of my girlfriends and me went down Bourbon street on Gay Pride night and we didn't even know it. We were wondering why we were being hit on by WOMEN left and right. It was fun, but... it smelled SO bad! Keep letting the good times role!
-Holly (cousin)
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