Jul. 20th, 2005 09:38 pm
new orleans stuff
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toastykittenOverheard on Canal Street: "I'm from Minnesota. You don't tell me to shut up, you ASK me to HUSH!"
In reference to the "wireless" stuff below, I actually had a dream about that. The day before we ordered the "high-speed Internet access", I dreamed that they fixed our lack of access by bringing in a network cable. As they entered the room, I whined, "But that's not wireless!" Then I woke up, and freaked out, thinking, why am I turning into Mark?
The swamp tour was awesome. The guide told us a bunch of stories about how he gets bit every month, the type of personalities among the alligators, commentary about failed government environmental management, how he fell down in a marsh and got bit by a snake and almost had his arm amputated, etc. I kept thinking, "Damn, dude, you better have really good insurance."
The random bars in the French Quarter mostly sucked. When asked what beers they had on tap, they inevitably said, "Miller, Coors." Even I know that's crappy-ass beer. It was better when we went into the restaurants and ordered from the bars there, because you could see their selection of alcohol. I couldn't even get a buzz from my daiquiri, and I usually am tipsy from the first few sips.
Beignets are really yummy.
We saw this homeless woman get up from her wheelchair and run over to someone else. It was so surreal.
New Orleans is full of crazy and sketchy people. Several men said to us, "Hey man, I know where you got your shoes." I kept trying to figure out what that meant. Were they trying to steal from us? That would have been a dumb way to do it, though. What does it matter if they know where I get my shoes? The driver who drove us to our swamp tour seemed nice enough, but had a glazed look in his eyes and kept cracking jokes that he laughed at silently, banging his fist on the wheel at the same time.
Harrah's has an okay buffet. Don't get the chocolate-dipped strawberries. It's dipped in cheap chocolate.
In reference to the "wireless" stuff below, I actually had a dream about that. The day before we ordered the "high-speed Internet access", I dreamed that they fixed our lack of access by bringing in a network cable. As they entered the room, I whined, "But that's not wireless!" Then I woke up, and freaked out, thinking, why am I turning into Mark?
The swamp tour was awesome. The guide told us a bunch of stories about how he gets bit every month, the type of personalities among the alligators, commentary about failed government environmental management, how he fell down in a marsh and got bit by a snake and almost had his arm amputated, etc. I kept thinking, "Damn, dude, you better have really good insurance."
The random bars in the French Quarter mostly sucked. When asked what beers they had on tap, they inevitably said, "Miller, Coors." Even I know that's crappy-ass beer. It was better when we went into the restaurants and ordered from the bars there, because you could see their selection of alcohol. I couldn't even get a buzz from my daiquiri, and I usually am tipsy from the first few sips.
Beignets are really yummy.
We saw this homeless woman get up from her wheelchair and run over to someone else. It was so surreal.
New Orleans is full of crazy and sketchy people. Several men said to us, "Hey man, I know where you got your shoes." I kept trying to figure out what that meant. Were they trying to steal from us? That would have been a dumb way to do it, though. What does it matter if they know where I get my shoes? The driver who drove us to our swamp tour seemed nice enough, but had a glazed look in his eyes and kept cracking jokes that he laughed at silently, banging his fist on the wheel at the same time.
Harrah's has an okay buffet. Don't get the chocolate-dipped strawberries. It's dipped in cheap chocolate.
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