The snap, crackle and pop ear condition continues to dog me. Feels like I swallowed sandpaper pellets, and poured molten wax into my ears. Feeling unsexy phlegmy.

The unsexy tip is aggravated by a bonehead hamfisted move I pulled on myself. A few nights ago I was punching the clown. I believe a jagged pebble was embedded in one of my fignernails. I nicked my erect shaft. Shit stung yo, but I plodded on. Gotta release the spunk once you put the balls in motion.

Gave spanky jr. a rest the next day. The following day however, I woke up in the middle of an erotic dream humping my mattress. Even though I felt a stinging sensation I rubbed away.

Now I got a sore cock. Slathered the sucker in Neosporin and am trying to keep my hands off of it. Unable to fondle depresses me.

Damaged parts report over. Time for more vacation insanity.

Tuesday of the Eighth in the month of April: Shannon's futon was kickin our ass. Mattress was somewhat broke. Could feel the wood slats up in my frame.

I could in no possible way imagine shivering in New Orleans. Seems I brought my Nordic gods with me. Next couple of days stayed chilly. Being a moist town the cold just frosts your bones, wind splicing through you. It was bitter.

Much of the housing there is not really built with insulation in mind. Indeed Shannon's crib was floor and then open air, raised up off the ground for flooding you see. Limited amounts of blankets too. Sleeping on the clammy earth basically. Sickness set into Sunshine.

Would not deter us from exploration. We were dropped off at Shannon's favorite breakfast spot, La Paniche. More of the tantalising mouth action. And oh dear the Bloody Mary's.

Alright, I am somewhat a connoisseur of Bloody Mary's. Won't even finish a simple tomato juice and vodka drink. That is subpar and gets the gasface. Bartenders, skilled and honorable ones, with their mixology kung-fu in the correct, develop their own Bloody Mary mixer. Figure out the alchemy of spices and liquid additives to a simple tomato juice to make it a mouth gargling delight. It is the perfect midday drink for watching sports and easing the hangover hurt. I have drank my way through gallons of the stuff.

New Orleans has dropkicked the rest of the nation in Bloody Mary cocktails. Granted I haven't been everywhere, but up until now no one beat out my local favorites in New York. I tried several joints in New Orleans and they all topped the best I've had anywhere. Perfect spicy mix of fresh horshradish and pepper sauce. Tantalising ground spices. Aroma coming from the top of the drink making it seem newly garden picked. One spot even put a dash of Guinness in, which works extremely well. Big ups New Orleans, you rock.

The second day seems to melt into a blur. Can't quite recall exactly what we did. I know we imbibed much more than the previous day. I think we sauntered around the streets with our go-cups directionless.

Oh! We did wrap up the day at Irene's. Mmmmmmmm. Cajun/Italian fare. Classy jizzoint too. Slightly bemusing us in our slacker gear sipping cocktails in the waiting room next to suits. Little live piano. Vodka pouring in.

The food was specfuckintacular. The waitress pointed out a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio, my favorite white. I ordered mussels marinara for an appetiser. Soft shell crab over creamy spicy linguine. Holy gourd was all that good. The staff treated us super decently as well. I have a feeling they prefer uncomplicated slacker freaks over the tighted assed business class that was clogging the place. They deserved that twenty-five percent tip.

Shannon scooped us back up at our favorite pay phone and we continued with the drunk making back at her store. I fell in love with the arrangement. The restaurant across the street kept giving us carry out beer, on credit too I believe. Business to business alky. Just walk back and get shit faced while customers come in to rent movies. Seemed the clientel preferred it that way.

Slithered into the cold sheets and gave way to the drunken dreamscape.