Let's go to the Chinese Buffet...

Let's take a journey the deepest darkest depths of the exotic Far East Chalmette. 

 Too much happiness for just one hour.  Here it's "Happy Day!"

"Thank" You.

While you wait to be seated, "please" admire the crystal ship chandelier hanging above your head (not pictured, due to danger of Swarovski crystal retina burning) and paper mache trees growing majestically up to the suspended ceiling tiles.

From our new new Irish menu:  Sino-Hiberian fusion cuisine is the hottest trend now, you know.

And our specialty: Shy Crab. I'm sure he's in there somewhere. Just wait

Overheard 7 p.m

"No, I'm sear-ous. Kool aid is really good for you. My cousin tole me about it. All I know is I had a bladder infection a while back....and Kool aid, you know, it cleared it right up.
I sweartogawd."

(cashier at Big Lots to the skeptical woman buying water in front of me)

Mardi Gras

I had a relatively tame Mardi gras. We were napping by 1 pm in fact.

The morning was spent at John's place, where he hosted his annual always fabulous pre-parade breakfast. There were czars, blackamoors, queens, mayan priestesses, go go boys, lost children, lesbians, found children, kings, queens, human tombs, dogs, and more queens.

Anyway, here are a few random pictures from the day. Get yourself drunk and pretend you're there!

from the kitchen window

  The Human Tomb arrives

The human tomb, with go go boys

Dog... in gym shorts (or maybe a donkey, not sure)

The back yard

The front yard

Bizarre old New Orleanian delicacy, "Russian Cake" or "Creole Trifle"  Stale cake and jam,  pressed into a mold and weighed down by bricks...then soaked in lots of rum.

After the party, it was off to the St. Anne parade....a meandering, claustrophobic crowd of people in costume snaking its way from Bywater to the Quarter, with stops at bars along the way.  

At Mimi's

RIP Don C.

Jesus... dancing with bunny

war

romance

Daddy's little angel of death

The rolling wrestling ring

Pork Chops

Zebra in a crinoline, with cigarette

Pom poms!

Pom poms!

Fierceness.

The steampunk trojan horse (which I never did get to see, alas)

advice to myself

Don't be afraid to stand out from the crowd

Be a role model

Always make time for yourself

Hold tight to your dreams

thought for the day

thought of the day

ballin'

Last night John and I attended the ball of a local gay krewe. It was my second year going, and this one was even better than the first. Last year I went in a sort of cobbled together costume, looking like some sort of bizarre organ grinder's monkey, but this year the Krewe's king graciously lent me a tux. A tux is much more comfortable than wearing velvet knickers and hose, I'll tell you. Anyway, here are a few of the truly terrible photos I took last night. They can't do this justice at all.

The theme was The Armageddon Ball, since this is 2012, after all.

Glamourous Drag queens (and Roman senators)

Part two of my Glamourous Drag queens from the back series

It wouldn't be mardi gras without some bending of the theme. Here's the Poseidon Adventure, complete with Shelley W.

The MC of the night, Varla Jean (hilarious)

The King in his Reign of Terror costume, with built in Guillotine. Too fabulous for words.

The King as a Firebird

Firebirds, green fairy, horseman of the apocalypse, and cockroach.

The former queen and king

Guest in a fabulous wig of plastic cups and christmas lights.

thought for the day

hattie

This morning I made a mistake, over shot my turn off....and drove a few blocks out of my way. Circling around, I happened on a garage sale. For no good reason, I decided to go in.

It was chock full of old lady stuff.

Hats and more hats

clowns and pierrots

a full set of Rivergate china.  (Only New Orleanians would ever care, I guess.)

bizarre, but wonderful print.

a large box of old greeting cards from the 40s and 50s, it seemed like.....next to a huge old album filled with them.

The old lady had clearly saved every card she'd ever gotten in her life....kind of like I do.
 I'm ashamed to say that I teared up a bit thinking about her.

Anyway, when the guy holding the sale saw me return to the box of cards again and again, he came up to me:

"Hey, I got lots more of those," he said eagerly. " Pretty, huh? You want to see more?  I found them up in the attic of this place.
You know, the old lady who used to live here:
Hattie Brown from Backatown, they used to call her,"
he chuckled.

The ones I couldn't help but buy. 
It's like Hattie's with me.