About every other year I go down to Jazzfest. Best part of the whole trip is wandering through the neighborhood next to the horse track and talking to the locals.
One year while walking, this JerryCurl, metal teeth brother asked in a most decisive manner if I wanted to sample his sausage. I thought that it was going be the first homosexual experience I’d had since that autistic Asian kid during my sophomore year. But it was so much better.
Turns out when the dude got out of Angola gen pop, he had few prospects and decided to start making sausage to sell during festivals. “Always had a way with the meat” he said.
And he did.
Between the ettouffee, red beans and rice and the sausage, best damn meal I ever had in NOLA. He had a smoker trailer about 18 feet long and was doing sausage all year round and sold it to some local restaurants as well. Bought his grandmama a house. Said bidness is so good he was gonna hire a couple more cousins to help out. Maybe run another truck around east Texas.
That of course was not in the magazine district like Girod is, so all bets off on the cast of characters. But probably a good time.
Memories of my only tim in Nawlins...In the early 90's, I went down to see a corching buddy who had gone to school and coached at SE Louisiana, in Hammond.
VERY long story short... Flew in the night of the first Saints playoff game in history (they lost), and I couldn't imagine how crazy it would have been on Bourbon Street if they had won. I was well-oiled on arrival, due to delay out of DFW...
Wandered into a club, saw Dirty Dozen Brass Band...no cover
Got forehead slapped in Pat O'Brien's by a Notre Dame player, who immediately freaked out b/c he thought I was his bro-in-law. He bought me hurricanes as long as we were there, and intro'd me to his b-i-l when he showed up...there was a strong resemblance...
On NY day, the host where we were staying had a big shrimp boil for lunch, and then we went to the ND-FLA Sugar Bowel. Was told we did a lot of other stuff, that is all I can (could) remember...
And, on someone's camera roll, there are two pictures of me...one with a NOPD, arm-in-arm, me wearing his hat, and him wearing mine, and one of me hanging off of a Bourbon Street sign, with a nice fat stogie in my mouth...Gonna go to Jazz Fest and / or Mardi Gras one of these years...CSB
EDIT: I get very strong hang over vibes by just typing this...
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& DIAFF!!
One year while walking, this JerryCurl, metal teeth brother asked in a most decisive manner if I wanted to sample his sausage. I thought that it was going be the first homosexual experience I’d had since that autistic Asian kid during my sophomore year. But it was so much better.
Turns out when the dude got out of Angola gen pop, he had few prospects and decided to start making sausage to sell during festivals. “Always had a way with the meat” he said.
And he did.
Between the ettouffee, red beans and rice and the sausage, best damn meal I ever had in NOLA. He had a smoker trailer about 18 feet long and was doing sausage all year round and sold it to some local restaurants as well. Bought his grandmama a house. Said bidness is so good he was gonna hire a couple more cousins to help out. Maybe run another truck around east Texas.
That of course was not in the magazine district like Girod is, so all bets off on the cast of characters. But probably a good time.
VERY long story short...
Flew in the night of the first Saints playoff game in history (they lost), and I couldn't imagine how crazy it would have been on Bourbon Street if they had won. I was well-oiled on arrival, due to delay out of DFW...
Wandered into a club, saw Dirty Dozen Brass Band...no cover
Got forehead slapped in Pat O'Brien's by a Notre Dame player, who immediately freaked out b/c he thought I was his bro-in-law. He bought me hurricanes as long as we were there, and intro'd me to his b-i-l when he showed up...there was a strong resemblance...
On NY day, the host where we were staying had a big shrimp boil for lunch, and then we went to the ND-FLA Sugar Bowel. Was told we did a lot of other stuff, that is all I can (could) remember...
And, on someone's camera roll, there are two pictures of me...one with a NOPD, arm-in-arm, me wearing his hat, and him wearing mine, and one of me hanging off of a Bourbon Street sign, with a nice fat stogie in my mouth...Gonna go to Jazz Fest and / or Mardi Gras one of these years...CSB
EDIT: I get very strong hang over vibes by just typing this...
He's an annoying fan boy who gets paid a lot of money.