I just got back from New Orleans....

…and I’ve decided that my town is horribly, horribly dull.

In New Orleans I stood on Canal Street as beautiful parades full of over-the-top floats rolled by. People stood on these floats and threw worthless trinkets into the crowd.

In my town, nobody marching in a parade is allowed to throw/give anything to anyone in the crowd, because [sniveling, whiny voice] it’s not fair to the people who don’t get anything [/sniveling, whiny voice]. :rolleyes:

In New Orleans I sat at Pat O’Brien’s and drank a Hurricane, served to me by a black man in a pressed green tuxedo jacket. I sang along with the crowd as dueling pianos led us in singalongs.

In my town, I can’t even get a Hurricane (with six shots of rum :eek: ) because the city council regulates how much liquor a barkeep can pour into any mixed drink. Cocktail waitresses serve liquor wearing their street clothes. NOBODY sings in a bar around here, except on Karaoke night, and it’s one-at-a-time.

In New Orleans I walked up and down Bourbon Street and mingled with the crowd, dink in hand.

In my town, if I had the audacity to step outside of a bar with a drink in my hand, I’d get a one-way ticket to the city jail. Nobody congregates outside of bars around here; the police get real squeamish about that and tell everybody to go back inside or to go home.

I live in a town that is in many ways like the NFL: It takes itself WAY too seriously, it tightly regulates everything it can think of, yet it doesn’t do anything to address its real problems.

I live in a town where anything resembling outdoor social life comes to a complete halt between October and April, because it’s too freaking cold to step outside.

I live in a town whose history is completely and utterly tied up in one man: a good man but a complete stick-in-the-mud when it comes to fun. That man is Abraham Lincoln.

I live in Springfield freaking Illinois.

This place is no fun.

I miss New Orleans.


***This ***is what makes New Orleans a wonderful place. Just screams sex, eh?

later, Tom.

Man, I love New Orleans. In fact, I’ve got reservations for a three-day weekend there next month, and the first place I’m headed after I check into the hotel is Central Grocery. Mmmmmm, muffelatas.

But I could never live in New Orleans, because I’d end up weighing 300 pounds and never make it to work before noon. So I suppose it’s a good thing I live where I do. :frowning:

Put your dink away! Even in New Orleans they have standards. (Yeah, yeah, I know HFLATHEAD got there first, but I can pile on too, can’t I?)

I had as much fun as I’ve ever had in my life the week I went to New Orleans for a wedding. Out on Bourbon Street until four every morning, sleep 'til noon, see the sights, then go back to Bourbon Street again for zydeco music, hot jazz, cool jazz, rock 'n roll . . . and lots and lots of hurricanes. I was exhausted and sick as a dog by the time they put me back on the plane, but happy happy happy.

Sigh. Here it’s snowy and cold and boring. Reeeaaalllll boring.

Hey, minty, when ya going to be in NO? I’m gonna be there the 14th-17th of April. Wanna do a MiniDope?

The plan is to fly in Friday afternoon and back home to Austin Sunday morning, Bunny Girl. My girlfriend–who’s never been there before :eek:–has most of my time spoken for, but hurricanes at Pat O’Brien’s or biniets at Cafe DuMonde could probably be arranged. :slight_smile:

Don’t forget to have the jambalaya at The Gumbo Shop—worth the trip in itself!

And stop in at Oz on Thursday nights for Drag Queen Bingo!

I must say, my ex Matt from Toronto had a similar reaction when I took him, on a Tuesday night, out until 3 AM for dancing and a drag show featuring the Giant Dancing Vagina.

Oh crap! So SPIFFLED isn’t gonna be like Mardi Gras?

That lyin’ Flypsyde

And SanibelMan is going to be so upset after buying all of those freaking beads!