Follow along with us on our trip up the Mississippi, at TrackMyTour!

Archive for the ‘New Orleans’ Category

Knock Knock…

Sunday, July 31st, 2011

Who’s there?

Nobody

Nobody who?

Nobody who’s not Tits and Balls, bunch of jerks, everybody else fled the scene, said it’s too hot. Just go North, whatever, we don’t need you, have fun in Maine, Seattle, Denver, Austin, it’s still fucking hot in Austin anyways, and isn’t there a heat wave in the Midwest? Roast, I say. We’re fine, thanks. We have plans. And fans. We’re busy- too busy, in fact. We have got a LOT going on here. So with no further ado, please allow me to introduce you to our NEW friends, true companions, won’t/can’t leave us, best summer ever, New Orleans August 2011 4Lyfe!!!

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You’ve met these little ones already, but let me tell you they just get cuter every day! Honestly, I swear they are half penguin. Check out their new digs:

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And here’s Buddy, doing his best to beat the heat. More about Buddy and his amorous escapades later.

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Um, this is our Venus Flytrap Seed. Turns out they are quite finicky, and can take 3-4 years to reach adult size, that is if you can even get them started. Given that this seed came free from a directionless packet via a yard sale and is god only knows how old and/or driedup and totally nonviable, well, we’ll see.

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We’re also going to start brewing beer, but we’ll probably drink it all before you out-of-towners get back. Sorry.

Injury Count

Tuesday, April 12th, 2011

Bruise #1-Tits.

Growing up, my dad and I always had a post ski week injury competition.  Now this competition is going public; bike trip edition.  What fun is pain if you can’t brag about it?  Here is my first bruise from day -1.  I’m not even really sure what caused it, but it involves a less than graceful dismount.

Easy Riding-Mississippi River Trail Beginnings

Tuesday, April 12th, 2011

Laura at the southernmost point of our journey!

Even though we are still in New Orleans, Tits and I technically started biking to Minnesota on Sunday- we biked the 15 miles south down the Mr. T to the St. Bernard State Park, turned around, and our journey north officially began. We had discussed biking the whole 80 miles down to Venice, LA, on the gulf, but didn’t really get our act together. On our journey we did see some fun stuff, like a pecan grove and this dead armadillo:

Dead but mostly intact armadillo

Unfortunately no video exists of us learning how to use the clipless pedal system, or of Tits tap-dancing in her bike shoes, but rest assured that we are now Floyd Landis-level professionals.

The only real issue now is that although I believe my bike shorts fit last time I put them on, they appear to have shrunk considerably in the interim, and the resulting cameltoe/sausage thigh is both uncomfortable and unflattering. This photo does not really do justice to the situation:

But hopefully I will soon be Very Fit and painful red elastic marks will be a thing of the past.

It’s almost time to go get Will, two large panniers, and a boxed bicycle from the New Orleans airport. Good luck getting from baggage claim to the curb, Will!

(end with something inspirational about trued wheels/True North)

Everything’s really going south: Liveblogging Greyhound

Monday, February 7th, 2011

Day 1

1:59 PM

launch

3:33 PM

Well I’m back on Greyhound, and this journey has some pros and some cons compared to my southern adventure. First pro: this leg, at least, is on the newest addition to the Greyhound family. Which means…internet! and live-blogging! and netflix documentaries! First con: length and timing. I’m probably not going to be all that coherent when I ride into New Orleans at 5am having been on the road for 33 hours. Which brings me to the most dastardly con: my food situation. I only packed two small butt of the bread sandwiches and a questionable citrus for the ride, since I didn’t want to thank my hosts by emptying their refrigerator. I was really hoping to not spend any more money; I spent the past week and a half partying like a rock star and not like an unemployed squatter, and my cash reserves are some amount of coins under three dollars. I could break out the cc, but I’d rather not, and even if I wanted to I think vending machines in bus stations still pretty much only take cash. In fact, I’ll spend the next little while researching which snack foods have the highest calorie count so that I don’t have to eat the upholstery. But despite these hardships, this journey stacks up as a net PRO because I am finally, after months of absence, going back to New Orleans! And that makes it worth every unsettling interaction and wistful food dream.

4:09 PM

Fuck me. I just ate both sandwiches. Fuck. I am temporarily sated, but it won’t last.

5:52 PM

I did some rudimentary research, and as I suspected Snickers is by far the best meal replacement candy. There is a surprising number of calorie counting and snack advice websites out there (just kidding), the worst of which is Fitness.com, which recommends sunflower seeds and nutri grain bars. I didn’t delve into chips and other snacks, but maybe I will later. Also I’m really into the documentary King of Kong, although this internet actually sucks and I’ve only succeeded in watching like the first half hour and I’ve been trying for a while.

8:03 PM

Milwaukee. I planned to buy dinner, but Snickers cost $1.50! Game-changer. I had some water. The Milwaukee terminal is nice, though, with a picture of a woman, like Fergie’s hot hot sister, with toilets for arms and I think it’s an ad for washing your hands. Or else for a hook-alternative for festivals. And update! A large family of maybe Mennonites just boarded the bus. All black, old-fashioned clothing and speaking German or some language. And I’m pretty sure they packed food.

Day 2

10:30 AM

Whew. Where to begin? It’s been a wild night. I switched buses in Chicago and prepared to settle in for a good sleep, since I didn’t have to switch buses until Nashville the next morning. The Mennonites all came too, apparently headed for some sort of convention in Indianapolis. Mostly because of them, but also because of everyone else on the bus, I was unable to answer most of Will’s graphic sex questions, even though he was nice enough to entertain me on the phone for a while.

The first impediment to my rest was that the bus was very crowded, and after I heroically gave up my carefully guarded pair o seats so that a woman could sit with her 8-year-old, I moved to an aisle seat next to a large man who kept staring at me. I tried every possible position of sleep that did not spill over into his area, and nothing was satisfactory. I looked like a sleeping pill ad, constantly moving and rearranging in search of sweet sleep that wouldn’t come, except on a bus. Finally I drifted off, only to be wakened, much to my dismay, by the bus driver: “Everybody off. Indianapolis. Reloading in 45 minutes.” It was never properly explained to me why I needed to get off the bus and then get back on again 45 minutes later, except for something vague about sweeping. I have absolutely nothing good to say about the Indianapolis Greyhound Station. This may be because I was there between the hours of 3:45 and 4:30am, or it may have been the roof leaking into mop buckets all around the station, or the smell, or the terrible terrible crap that is CBS early morning. But I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, except to mention, again, that there were by this point about 35 Mennonites, men, women, and children, all in black, swarming around. Actually, there are some here in Nashville too! I’ll do some research about a possible retreat later. I’m sorry to keep coming back to the Mennonites, who in fairness might not actually be Mennonites, but I didn’t expect so many on Greyhound and they definitely don’t blend with the rest of the clientele.

So back on the bus. Again didn’t get two seats, but at least it was a window this time. Napped a bit, until I again had to get off the bus somewhere in Tennessee, only to reboard 45 minutes later. This time it was from around 7-8am. Sweeping again? Fishy.

Back on the bus, I finally slept, and had very weird dreams that I won’t try to describe here and that I only hope didn’t wake up the other passengers, as I have been known to talk in my sleep. I slept so deeply that I missed the hubbub that surrounded the driver completely missing his turn to Nashville. When I woke up, I should have gotten off the bus almost an hour previously, and I panicked. Luckily we made it back to Nashville in plenty of time for my 11:20 connection, since I’d had quite a layover scheduled. So that’s where I am now, home of country music, and I just caved and used the rest of my money to buy a Snickers. I ate the citrus last night.

5:27 PM (post-live)

There IS such thing as a free lunch in Athens, Alabama. I went into the gas station, credit card in hand, ready to suck it up and pay the big bucks for my meal of mashed potatoes with gravy and flatbread (I figured carbs would give me the biggest bang for my buck). I asked if they took credit cards, they do, but when I got to the cash register it turned out not for purchases under $5, and mine was $1.77 (this is my favorite place in the world). So the lady just gave me the food! Awesome. Then I went to the bus station in Birmingham, which had a higher proportion of crazies than most places so far, even though it was like 4 in the afternoon. I associate crazy with the night. Also, I think the fancy Greyhounds just don’t go below the Mason Dixon line, because I am back with no outlet or internet, typing in Word.

I’ve been listening to Dan Savage for like 5 hours now, although I also have a lot of religious lit with me, since it’s the only stuff that’s free, usually. I enjoyed the Christian Science Journal’s testimonials (prayer cured my gum disease, athlete’s foot, etc,) but I didn’t so much like the Valentine’s Day Jesus Special “A Love Story” (Who Knows All About Your Sins? …filthy talk, murder, witchcraft, homosexuality (gay), lust… The Bible says JESUS does!) It’s a weird combo and my head might explode.

RetroBlog: Wrapping Up

Well I’m home now. Tits collected me at the New Orleans station in the wee hours of the morning and we both slept until 1. Then we spent the rest of the day talking about the semantics of post-live blogging, which we think might be the next big thing for those of us who don’t usually have the net on the go. Stay tuned!

NOPD’s Newest Antics

Friday, February 4th, 2011

So, I was just pulled over for driving “erratically,” mainly due to a blanket blocking my steering wheel and missing a turn due to my terrible sense of direction.  It is 37 degrees and freezing rain and the police officer ordered me to put down ALL the windows.  Then, he goes do you guys not have heat in the car? When we said we did, he said, then why are you so bundled up? Maybe because it is fucking 37 degrees out and all the windows are open!!!  He then proceeded to insist that I was on something, he just didn’t want to bother to figure out what it was because it would take too much time.  Geez.  Maybe he was on something, a power trip at least.

Interview with a Line Cook

Friday, December 17th, 2010

As a follow-up to our recent rave dinner review, T&B used our connections in the industry to go behind the swinging doors of one of New Orleans’ hottest restaurants. It’s hard-hitting. (The responses were written on one of those gadgets, so sic.)

Balls: When it comes to something like brisket (which was dee-lish, by the way) that needs to be cooked for a long time and can’t be made to order, how do you deal? What is the shelf-life of brisket? Do you remake it whenever it’s getting low every few days or make a new batch every day and employees/the homeless are blessed with beef? Or is your chef just that good, and there’s always the perfect amount?

Line Cook: Our brisket is rubbed with a rub we make and then smoked at around 200 to 250 degrees from 6 to 8 hours. We then finish cooking it in the oven at 350 or so with some water at the bottom of a pan and some garlic clovesand cover it until its tender enough to poke through.  Then we remove it from the liquid and chill it. It keeps for quite a qhile a week mayhbe. And is eays to slice when its cold. When it gets ordered we take a few pieces salt them and cover in our bbq sauce amd a little water in a pan, cook on the stove top until the sauce is bubbling and put the pan in the oven until the sauce has reduced and sort of glazed the meat and then its done. We just kind of know how much we go thorugh and can order it as we like so we rarely have a surplus and never really run out.

B: What is that thing on the end of the bar? Like a large glass jug covered in chain-mail with a fancy nozzle-spout on the end. I guessed decorative, Tits thought it had something to do with carbonation or foam.

LC:The chainmall thing was just decoration for a siphon that is useed to carbonate whatever you put in.

B: Do you have any short bartenders? Some of the wines were pretty high up.

LC:The wines are just up high as a display.

B: [Too hot to handle]?

B: [Pushes the envelope]?

LC: And I’ve got no comment on your last two That’s allni got time for now. Haha

Take it esy


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