NOLA #2: What's A Birthday Without Graveyards, Martinis, Ghosts, and Jazz??

The answer is a dumb stupid lame worthless birthday. Duh.

Today was that girl's (her name is Michelle, I think) birthday. YAY BOOZE I MEAN BIRTHDAY. We woke up early to walk down to the Cafe Du Monde for some beautiful beignets.

Are those snow peaks? No, JUST THREE POUNDS OF POWDERED SUGAR.

It took a while to get the bill settled because Duncan kept debasing the waitress, but once that was done with, we could finally enjoy our light and healthy breakfast!

As light as a walrus in heat!

Once we were done scarfing, which took about twenty seconds, Michelle couldn't help looking wistfully into the wind.

Or maybe she was just looking at the homeless man behind us trying to shoeshine a tourist's face.

Once breakfast had been consumed mightily, we split up and explored some of the street and shops of the French Quarter. Michelle, Shannon, and I went into the St. Louis Cathedral.

Our sins were just getting to be a bit much. Three exorcisms, please!

Then it turned out to be beautiful inside.

Sigh. Makes me almost want to feel that emotion that I know I'm not capable of feeling... what is it called? Oh yeah, empathy.

From there, two new friends from New York joined us! Zobby and Boe! Or Bobby and Zoe. We had reservations at a very fancy restaurant, and needed to take a street car to get there!

It's coming! It's coming! Oh wait no it's leaving #sorry

We were dropped off (NOT THROWN OUT) in the Garden District, where we had some time to spare to explore the Lafayette Cemetery! ...Number 1...

I'm not sure how many of them there are but clearly this is the best one according to its ranking. WE'RE NUMBER ONE!

Sometimes I write this blog and right in the middle of a sentence I'll realize how annoying I am. Anyway, we saw about a BAGILLION lizards!

Here's one. I named him smiley after Miley. Kinda looks like her, no?

The grounds of the cemetery were stunning.

Save for all these zombies walking around. Oh wait, that's just white people.

The areas in between the graves looked like mini Park Avenues!

Except these streets seem a little more optimistic than New York.

I knew taking pictures with a digital camera in a graveyard is a felony somewhere in the bible, so I wanted to pay my respects humbly before continuing my desecration.

Just to be safe.

Now, everyone knows why these graves are above ground, right? If you don't, you really need to travel more and stop eating dunkaroo's and watching porn on your roommate's couch every Friday night like I do. The city of New Orleans is below sea level. And the water table is really super high. Not the kind of high that you're thinking but like, ELEVATION. So instead of burying dead bodies in the ground and having the Misisisipiip flood and BAM you have a dead body on your face while you shower, they put them in little nice houses. Or mausoleums. Or whatever. Point is, shut up. Sometimes, they even decorate the place! (The living relatives I'm assuming not... the... deceased.)

This one was either a fancy lady or a drag queen. Or both?

This guy put a bench right in front of his so that people didn't have to stand while reading the long list of names and get depressed and then faint and fall and crack their head and die and then add ANOTHER name to the list.

They were just thinking logically, really. 

And this one had a garden with wind things!

A garden for Gardere! How fitting and cute and...macabre.

Then Zoe and I happened upon these two teenage girls who were paying a lot of attention to this one grave. They called us over and told us that we could see INSIDE one of the graves! Reluctantly, we went over. We saw that one of the entrances had a small hole. Too small to fit a person through, but big enough to put one's hand in. One of them told me to reach in with my camera, and if I pointed it properly and snapped a photo, I could see the remains. I've been raised to trust strangers implicitly, so naturally, I did as these two minxes commanded. A momentary thought did cross my mind that these were two she-devils and they were going to push me into the grave and trap me there and then eat my eyeballs, but then I thought, NAHHH. So I snapped a picture.

And lost my soul. A nice pile of bones, complete with a skull, because, why not? HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MICHELLE.

So now that I had given myself nightmares for the next ten years, I decided it was time to head to the restaurant. We all met at the Commander's Palace, a well known New Orleans establishment.

And they have a courtyard!

While we waited for our table, I ordered a Pisco Sour from the bar.

The top looks like Jack the Pumpkin King's face but the taste... well... there's no pumpkin... just alcohol.

This place also had 25 cent martinis!!! 25 CENT MARTINIS!!!

I got mine dirty with a splash of wasted!

They had a three course pre-fix lunch for a STUPID low price, and I couldn't resist.

First course? GUMBO.

Then the entree...

Smoked pork belly with deep fried oysters on a bed of chicken liver boudin... da fuck amiright?

Then Michelle got a candle and a hat so she could feel special on her birthday! And she sure looked special, I'll tell ya that much...

DAAAAAYYYYYY

You guys. Bread pudding souffle.

I don't know how to do accents on this stupid website so just shut up and drool.

We each had three martinis, which was the limit, and then Zoe and I ventured upstairs to check out the ALLEGEDLY haunted second-floor dining room. We had asked the staff downstairs about it and no one seemed to know what we were talking about. But we knew. The Travel Channel never lies. We went up and saw a back waiter setting up. He kindly said hello to us, and we kindly responded with, "IS THIS WHERE THE GHOST IS??". We expected him to respond with the same ambivalence as the rest of the staff, but he said flatly in a cold Cajun accent, "Yes. It is." Our hearts stopped. He went further and showed us exactly where the ghost was murdered. Not the ghost. The...person... that became the ghost. This building used to be a very popular bar, and upstairs they had the ladies of the night. One evening, a lady was assassinated, and as our back waiter friend put it, her spirit was "not at rest". He crossed himself. We then asked him if he had seen her, but alas, no. He told us he believed, but he did not possess any sensitivity to the spirit world. As he spoke, the sun came out and illuminated the room. I felt compelled to snap a photo.

And then I farted with fear.

We joined the others downstairs, and set off to the next place. One of the valets at the Commander's Palace recommended a place on Magazine st. that had great seafood and cheap booze. Even though we just inhaled a three course meal OF COURSE WE WERE STILL HUNGRY AND THIRSTY.

Oysters on the half shell... oh man... I can't resist them.

Then I got drunk and took a selfie of the birthday girl and myself without any hands!

Look at that! How'd I do that?? I'm just so great all the time.

Then I took a selfie of me blowing on the raw oysters because they were so hot.

Or maybe it was just me that was hot. ...no the oysters we were way hotter let's be real. Meaning they were ice cold.

Then drunk me took a pic of Zoe eating her lipstick like an addict.

Don't act so surprised you're doing it AT THE TABLE.

After drinking and eating even more, we took the street car back to the Quarter. While on it, Michelle tried to Audrey Hepburn us but instead looked more like... some crazy white girl at the back of a street car.

Future Hollywood Icon? Or Hollywood's Future Ex-Con?

Streetcars are cute. But so. slow. At least compared to NYC subway.

AND WHY ARE THOSE LIGHTS SO BRIGHT I AM TRYING TO DRUNK NAP.

When we got back to the Quarter, two more friends arrived! Nicole and Kyle! But first I needed to check out Carousel Bar, which has a bar that's a carousel. WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED!?

But I couldn't stay long, for Nicole and Kyle were innocent little nubile honey bees lost in the wilderness and they needed my help! I set out to find them! DEAD OR ALIVE.

I found them alive. ... ... ... ... .... ... yay.

From there we walked to Frenchman street to check out a few jazz clubs. One of them had a shout out to Michelle!

And then the singer was SICK of our underwhelming jazzing, so he came out onto the dance floor to rile us up!

After I swing danced with Zoe so hard centrifugal force ripped off her arms and head, we all decided to get some late night nosh at a nearby hot dog place. I honestly don't even remember what I ordered. Something horrifying probably. But it's comforting to know I wasn't the only one stuffing my face.

Like a little band of angels!

NIGHT! zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz