Tuesday, February 21, 2012

“Fun Times—Sunday Night Live”

(Only in New Orleans)



It all began with a conversation of “what are we gonna do today?” We decided on just going to get something to eat. Unsure of what we wanted to eat, my brother took charge of the situation and we went to Zea’s. If you haven’t been there, it is delicious. Their ribs are to die for! Seriously, almost as good as my mom’s and that woman can cook her ass off. The menu is a combination of seafood, bar-b-que, pasta, steaks, and several other dishes, so your entire dinner party should have no problem finding something to enjoy. Dinner was great. Good conversation, sharing food out of each other’s plate, talking about everybody, you know “the norm” with our clan. The only thing missing was our older sister. Since she was just home for the holidays, she couldn’t come down for Mardi Gras. (Maytail, we love you) I wanted to catch the Bacchus parade, one of my favorite during carnival time, which always takes place on Sunday night. Before then we stopped by the daiquiri shop to get something to sip during the parade. “Shout out to the famous HURRICANE daiquiri.” (Very nice) Well, we missed the parade but ended up downtown in the French Quarter. The crowd was massive, yet civilized. Finding a place to park was crazy but leave it to my cousin “PoppaDoc” and his creativity, we didn’t drive around for long. Once the truck was secure, they set out on foot towards the infamous Bourbon Street. Too many people to bother with, so we decided to go to the Hookah Bar, a place in the city were you go to smoke, dance, hang out and just have a great time.







The crowd was laid back, the atmosphere soothing, leaving all of the hustle and bustle of the city on the outside. We were able to relax, listen to live music and enjoy our time together. (The band was Amazing) Shout out to the dude playing the flute. He was awesome. Who knew the flute could sound so sexy? Surprisingly the smoke wasn’t overpowering in the least. As the drinks poured in and the taste of our customized hookah set the scene, we laughed at some of the characters who decided to come out and play. (Halloween is in October, right?) Leave it to Mardi Gras to make people think they can just put on anything but fit right in with what everybody else is wearing. Let me just say “some clothing is not made for everyone to wear”. I know dressing a certain way or having a certain style creates and showcases a person’s individuality, but DAMN, I don’t wanna know who you are if I feel like Imma throw up in my mouth! Harsh, maybe but I am dead serious. If you have to keep pulling on your skirt or dress, it’s too damn short. If I see your underwear or lack thereof, you should do something different. If I see your boobies staring me in the face before I see you, you got too much hanging out. Fellas, if your skinny leg jeans fit tighter than your girlfriend’s, they are suspect! (I’m just saying) Dude, let your balls hang like they are supposed to do. We took pictures and sent them to our mother and she went berserk. She thought we were smoking something else, getting high. “I know ya’ll ain’t smoking dem drugs”, she replied in a text. We cracked our sides laughing at her. (She is too funny) Like we would have sent her a picture of us doing that anyway! (SAY NO TO DRUGS!!!!)    






After hanging at the Hookah for a few hours and several drinks later, we went back to Bourbon. I must have been in my own zone because hubs look at me funny. I asked what was wrong and he asked me if I saw what happened. “What happened”, I wanted to know. When he tells me that a girl walking with her friend passed him and rubbed him down, you know I was livid. He didn’t feel the need to share such information until her ass was out of sight, right. (Yeah, my thoughts exactly) The ass-whipping is still playing in my head as we speak. Yeah, she would have been introduced to “my fist, going upside her head”. Is that disrespectful or what? Maybe I’m overreacting, so you tell me. Anyway, let me stop talking about it before I get all worked up again. (Wu-sah) Ending up at club Razoo’s, the party was in full swing. A mixture of ethnic backgrounds filled the place beyond capacity. Girls in little ass shorts walked around advertising shots for $3. My sister and I gave it a go. Does anyone know what is in a pink pussy? Yes, there is such a thing and yes, I did do a few shots of it. It is very delicious might I add. Tastes like lemonade, which sneaks up on you. Making our way around the club, through the crowd of people, we ended up on the packed dance floor. In this particular club you are allowed to go on stage and dance. Let me just say that a few of the ladies on the stage should have known better. Do women really wear underwear to the club? If your back fat is more than the fat on your stomach, don’t wear a shirt with your back out! That is so not cute or attractive. I don’t care how cute you thought you were when you looked in the mirror, it’s not! I almost peed on myself laughing so hard at some of these people. (If laughter cleanses the soul then my soul doesn’t have to worry about being dirty for a while.)





My sister almost had to curse this dude out. Why is it that when you trying to dance a guy (ugly ass mutha) thinks it’s an open invitation (shout out to Tyrese) to come dance behind you? Well, she told him that she didn’t want to dance. He still tried and sadly wasn’t successful. (Poor fella) We all laughed. Several songs later, he was back. She told him again and when she danced with him, I was shocked. Turns out, he said something genuine and she gave him a dance. A dude standing behind her, watching her ass bought her two shots. Let me just back up a bit. When you buy a shot in Razoo’s, the girl in the little ass booty shorts walking around with them have to give it to you. Meaning, she puts the shot glass in her mouth and pours it into yours. It almost looks like you are kissing without touching lips. The men in the room get excited to see the transaction, so shots were being bought left and right. I saw one of the female bartenders or mixologists as they now refer to themselves pull up her dress and let a guy smell her vajayjay. Well, I guess it smelled right because he ordered several drinks afterwards. (Or maybe he just needed several drinks to get the smell out of his nostrils) Either way, I was shocked. Who does that? Only in New Orleans I guess!



Once we got tired of dancing and my sister and I feet began to fuss at us, we walked back to the truck, changed from boots to tennis shoes and went to the Harrah’s casino. (WARNIG: Never wear shoes with heels on them in downtown New Orleans, especially during an event like Mardi Gras) I guy tried to sneak in, got caught and put out the doors. Another guy was pleading with the police officer to let him have another chance to act like he had some sense. The officer wasn’t buying it. The casino was calm, which was interesting. Harrah’s is always packed. Now being that we were in New Orleans, a place like no other, you know there is always a club nearby. Yes, inside the casino! Masquerade was on point, playing all the latest hits. Drinks were flowing, and people were dancing and having a great time. The best part about it is that it is completely free of charge, you have to be 21 or older to get inside, hence being in the casino, so all the kids were still out on Bourbon or somewhere else. (Oh, let me just say that I got carded and my hubby and sister did not) Gotta love that dove soap and cold water, try it, it keeps the skin soft and youthful, or maybe it’s just me. Let me stop it! *laughs*




We stayed in the casino a bit and my sister won about a hundred dollars off of a twenty. Not too bad. I say this because we don’t ever go to the casino. We hate losing money! Once we got a few free drinks, she cashed out and we left. Walking back to the truck we saw a woman standing up behind two of her friends, pissing on a building. (DRUNK AS HELL) But whatever works, right! I don’t blame her because before I go in a porter potty, I would do the same thing. It was 3 o’clock in the morning, time to go. Midnight hunger kicked in so they went to get something to eat. Zea’s had worn off. It had been hours since eating there. Although my hubby and I got the best hotdog ever from a venture in the French Quarters prior to going to the casino, our stomachs were starting to talk to us. (Ketchup, mustard and onions, umm delicious) I still cannot believe just how good that hotdog was!



After attempting McDonald’s twice, where we were told they were not taking any more orders, we went to Rally’s instead. As I ate my little cheeseburger, my only thought was that damn hotdog. How can something taste so good coming from the corner of a street? (I don’t know but I will be getting another one when I go back.) By this time my sister was in the back of the truck knocked out sleep, I was fighting my everlasting cold, my cousin was driving with my brother giving directions and my hubby was ready to get me home. We dropped my brother off at his apartment and then made our way back across the spillway. Once home, everyone was tired, lightly tipsy and ready to go to sleep. Our Sunday night turned into Monday morning. Time well spent having a great time with family. I look forward to next carnival season, although we do things throughout the year, there is nothing like being in the city during Mardi Gras. If you ever get a chance or have gotten the change to, plan a trip to visit New Orleans while it’s carnival time. There is nothing that compares to it. If anyone would like to share their experience, feel free to post a comment. Let me just tell you that I am still getting all the consumption of liquor out of my system today and it’s Tuesday. We didn’t get drunk by any means but we did put down some alcohol. (PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY) Until next time, be inspired, be encouraged and be YOU! Have fun! Enjoy life! Tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us, treat today like the present it is.



Smooches,
Keke Chanel        

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