House across the street from where I lived for the first few months of 2015 on Pauline St. in the Bywater neighborhood of New Orleans
Sign in front the house from the photo previous
Me and my roommate Dan getting touchy feely before heading out to an event known as Big Dick’s House of Big Boobs at which a ton of people pack into a venue and get fucked up while watching other people do crazy, elaborate, kinky-ass strip routines on stage
Da kitchen kru at Red’s Chinese on St. Claude Avenue in the Bywater circa March 2015
Reggie the redbone coonhound – that dog could lick a mean foot. Maybe he liked the taste of salt from my sweaty-ass feet or something – I dunno – but I swear that dog’d be lickin’ my toes within 30 seconds of poppin’ them there kicks off every time I came home
Under the dock at an area known as “The End of the World” where the industrial canal meets the Mississippi River, adjacent a now-defunct naval base. If you ever find yourself in New Orleans looking for something to do, I’d highly recommend picking up a bucket of golf balls, a driver and a 6-pack of beer and heading over to The End of the World and then spending an hour or two whacking balls at the abandoned naval base.
Dan under the dock
Ya boi
Come get your butt stuffed by StuffMan ButtMan
A prescription for Jesus that you’re supposed to take 8 days a week, 25 hours a day
I saw two of these skull taggings under the dock. This one had crucifixes over the eyeballs and the other one farther down did not
Dove me long time
The other skull
You’re* next
As we headed west under the dock along the Mississippi, it began to get really tattered and shitty towards the end
Good advice. Very practical
Emerging from under the dock, we were treated to this sunset over downtown N’yawlinz
Dan
Dan and Reggie continuing on through the debris-strewn shore in search of an alternative way back out into the Bywater that wouldn’t require an hour-long walk back under the docks to The End of the World after night had fallen
Nasty
Last glimpse of the setting sun
Starting to walk back towards The End of the World
Somewhere right along here I think we found a short portion of chain-link fence that led into a grassy riverside area known as Crescent Park over which we hopped and passed Reggie and then decided to go get ribs at a place called The Joint
This tag was quite popular in the Bywater area. If you’re interested in finding out what inspires someone to spraypaint such a thing all over the place, here’s an interview with the mastermind behind GAY FOR PAY http://www.noladefender.com/content/ga45y-p67ay-speaks
The 45-floor Plaza Tower in the central business district of New Orleans has been abandoned since 2002 when it was closed due to mold and asbestos. In spite of being sold by one developer to another over the years who each had their own plans to do this or that with the building, to this date it remains empty and is an awesome place for “urban exploration.” Here’s a view from the top of the Plaza Tower at night.
The Bywater
According to Wikipedia, “Mardi Gras Indians are black Carnival revelers in New Orleans, Louisiana, who dress up for Mardi Gras in suits influenced by Native American ceremonial apparel…In addition to Mardi Gras Day, many of the tribes also parade on Saint Joseph’s Day (March 19) and the Sunday nearest to Saint Joseph’s Day (“Super Sunday”).” All these photos were taken on Super Sunday 2015.
Wikipedia follows up saying of Mardi Gras Indians, “Collectively, their organizations are called ‘tribes’. There are about 38 tribes. They range in size from half a dozen to several dozen members. The groups are largely independent, but a pair of umbrella organizations loosely coordinate the Uptown Indians and the Downtown Indians.”
Marching
SUCK IT!
Check out those pants that dude’s got on. Wikipedia: “Mardi Gras Indian suits cost thousands of dollars in materials alone and can weigh upwards of one hundred pounds. A suit usually takes between six and nine months to plan and complete. Each Indian designs and creates his own suit; elaborate bead patches depict meaningful and symbolic scenes. Beads, feathers, and sequins are integral parts of a Mardi Gras Indian suit. Uptown New Orleans tribes tend to have more sculptural and abstract African-inspired suits; downtown tribes have more pictorial suits with heavy Native American influences.”
More Indians in front of an ad for some phony asshole lawyer
Wikipedia says, “During the march, the Indians dance and sing traditional songs particular to their gang. They use hodgepodge languages loosely based on different African dialects. The “Big Chief” decides where the group will parade; the parade route is different each time. When two tribes come across each other, they either pass by or meet for a symbolic fight. Each tribe lines up and the “Big Chiefs” taunt each other about their suits and their tribes. The drum beats of the two tribes intertwine, and the face off is complete. Both tribes continue on their way.”
Young tribeswomen
A few examples of the many tribal names in New Orleans are the “7th Ward Hard Headers,” the “Northside Skull and Bones Gang,” the “Blackfoot Hunters,” “Trouble Nation,” and “Guardians of the Flame.”
The guy in the black shirt on the left was like, “Dude, a fuckin’ segway? Da fuck, man.”
Shirt calling attention to a widespread problem
Decals on the wheels of this dude’s ride and the piece of jewelry hanging off his necklace take the shape of Africa and are colored in the style of the pan-African flag
For the zillionth time I’m abusing Wikipedia as a source on this site, “Pan-Africanism is a worldwide intellectual movement that aims to encourage and strengthen bonds of solidarity between all people of African descent. Based upon a common fate going back to the Atlantic slave trade, the movement extends beyond continental Africans, with a substantial support base among the African diaspora in the Caribbean, Latin America and the United States. It is based on the belief that unity is vital to economic, social, and political progress and aims to “unify and uplift” people of African descent. The ideology asserts that the fate of all African peoples and countries are intertwined. At its core Pan-Africanism is ‘a belief that African peoples, both on the continent and in the diaspora, share not merely a common history, but a common destiny.'”
Blazer
Optimus Prime, is that you?
Respect
When all else fails in getting through to the children, try using cuss words to get them back on track.
The bulldog was named Wallace and belonged to my neighbor Annalisa. The other dog, his name was Pup. And I know he has a collar on and all, but Pup didn’t really have an owner. Because Pup can’t be owned. Pup was a rolling stone. Pup was a street dog through and through. Twenty-four hours a day he could be seen wandering through the Bywater looking for something to get jiggy with. It didn’t matter the sex or even the species of what Pup was prepared to fuck. As long as it had a hole or even some sort of surface he could rub himself on, Pup could give less of a shit. And from the looks of it, Wallace didn’t care either. Maybe he was too young and naive to realize what was going on – I dunno – but everything about his demeanor says he was totally complacent about getting slammed in the can by that dirty old dog, Pup. Skeet, skeet, skeet
“I’m a hard stun’n nigga like Evil Knievel
Jumpin’ out Lex’s and Hummers – showin’ off for my people
I’m the # 1 stunna!
Wh-wh-what what?
The # 1 stunna!
Wh-wh-what what?
James Bond, Jackie Chan, and that bitch, MacGyver
Private planes, Jaguars, Bentley’s, and Prowlers
I’m the # 1 stunna!
Wh-wh-what what?
The # 1 stunna!
Wh-wh-what what?” – Big Tymers from the song – you guessed it – “#1 Stunna” circa the year 2000
