Alabama:
I was obviously psyched so I made this face:
Because of the scenery:
Strange highway-side houses in Alabama:
But evidently Tall Paul will rent anything. I just wonder if he was Bunyan-tall, and also if he shared comparable lumberjacking skills:
Alabama has water:
And pretty things:
We decided to stop for lunch in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, which looks like this:
And if you eat lunch on a Sunday in Tuscaloosa, you eat at Mugshots:
Where they seemingly have a penchant for large quantities of iced tea (which also came with the promise of free refills, but, seriously?):
Samantha wanted to look like Aunt Jemima:
And, Mississippi:
Has an interesting landscape:
Until the monsoon comes along:
And I spend an hour white-knuckled, convinced that I'm going to die:
But then there was a bright spot off in the distance:
We lived. When you enter New Orleans from the east, you go across a bridge that's about 7 miles long and has nothing but a vast expanse of water on either side. This picture does no justice:
We got to the Creole Inn in the Marigny district of town. I put on linen pants. Samantha took a picture:
For breakfast, we ate here:
I had the Eggs Creole, which featured a creole sauce that was delicious:
The architecture in this town blew my mind. It is unlike anything I've seen in America. The intricacy of the craftsmanship combined with the intimacy of the streets was fall-in-love-with-immediacy inducing:
Lots of balconies with foliage:
This can't be America:
Random Aqua Teen Hunger Force graffiti sighting on a trash can:
This box requested a donation, which, when you deposited a quarter, it promptly fell to the ground:
More balcony activity:
This bar was called Marie Laveau's, who was a famed voodoo practitioner of yore:
This bar had all sorts of police patches. Find Philly:
Dusk shots of town (and unintended Lexus promo):
Next day we walked to the cemetary, this guy was looking at me:
I don't believe that this is his real last name:
And, here are all the cemetary shots:
This is Marie Laveau's tomb, where people will write XXX on her tomb in the hopes that she'll grant them one wish.
More cemetary shots:
And some more cemetary shots...
Sorry, a couple of more. I thought they were cool at the time:
"More cemetary photos, asshole?" asks Samantha:
Yo Mama's was an awesome bar/grill with these ridiculously huge sandwiches that came with baked potatoes instead of fries. The first day we both ate one and I had to be rolled down the street. The second day we (smartly) split one and were much more comfortable:
The decor:
More random street shots:
Last bar, last few hours:
The bust donning the santa hat is actually an Elvis head that sings every so often. Ya gotta love New Orleans gay bars:
And then we went to the hotel, fell asleep, woke up, and got ready for our 9 hour drive to Austin, which we were clearly both very excited about, both for the drive, and for the fact that we had to leave New Orleans...
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