EMA, gay cowboys, zombies and Homeland Security? Sounds like the second half of my Pretzel Logic look at my recent trip to the Gulf Coast.
FEMA Fashion Statements
T-shirt slogans found on T-shirts for sale in the French Quarter of New Orleans: 'FEMA: Find Every Mexican Available'; 'FEMA Evacuation Plan: Run Motherfucker Run'; 'FEMA: Fix Everything My Ass'; 'I Stayed In New Orleans for Katrina and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt, a New Cadillac and a Plasma TV'.
Blow Me Down
Another T-shirt slogan: 'Katrina Gave me a Blow Job I'll Never Forget'.
It's A Hoot
Message on a Hooters sign somewhere between Gulfport, Mississippi and Mobile, Alabama: 'A Day Without Sunshine Is Night.'
Lance's Lance
I went with my friend Mike to Cowpokes, the gay country bar in New Orleans, where a bartender named Lance was nice enough to come up to us, say hello, and give us each a free bottle of water. He also wore jeans tight enough to really show off the lance in his pants ( which he could not keep his own hands off of ) . Neither my friend nor I was shocked when he eventually ended up shirtless and front and center for each line dance. It's nice to know that gay life is pretty much the same wherever you go.
Lance's Lube
Lance mentioned to us that Cowpokes has lube wrestling on Wednesday nights, and that if the contestants are cute he'll be the one to lube them up ( his excuse is that if the contestants lube themselves up they waste too much lube ) , while the less-than-desirables have to lube themselves up. Again, it's nice to know that gay life is pretty much the same wherever you go.
Night Of The Living Dog
It was dark by the time Mike and I left Cowpokes. As we were walking down a deserted side street to get to his car Mike urged me to walk faster because there was someone in the park across the street from us walking in our direction in the dark, his arms outstretched. Earlier we had been talking about zombies and ghosts, and I thought he was just joking to see if he could scare me. But when I got to the car I saw that there was indeed someone out there wandering around in an odd way. However, after I got into the car ( quickly ) I looked back and saw it was just some guy walking his dog.
Bourbon Street Cowboy Blues
I had no interest in going into a Bourbon Street bar called 'Bourbon Cowboy' but not because it was a straight country place ( who knew such things existed? ) , but because before Katrina it was another establishment that was my favorite place in New Orleans to hear live jazz and blues and now it was gone.
Are They Referring To The Owner Of The Place Or Its Customers?
There is a store in the gay section of Bourbon Street called 'Mary's True Value Hardware.'
The Mississippi Model Has Most Of Its Teeth Missing
Across the street from Mary's is a gay adult gift shop ( is there any other kind? ) , and one of the things they sell is 'Mr. Jack,' which is a tube-shaped vibrating masturbation aide with a soft plastic male mouth opening.
They Have The Right Stuff
The same gift shop ( I forgot to write down its name ) also sold anatomically correct ( in a Tom of Finland sort of way ) plush stuffed animals, such as bears, bulls, raccoons, etc., each endowed with an enormous ( for its scale ) plush penis. Again, it's nice to know that gay life is pretty much the same wherever you go.
His 'Borat' Routine Must Be A Riot
On my flight back to Chicago I had to fly through Dallas again ( not that I'm complaining about being in Texas ) , and as I was going through security the guy at the metal detector looked at my boarding pass and asked 'What's your record locator number?' I gave it my best guess, but the guy replied, 'Not even close.' He then smiled and said 'I'm just screwing with you. You don't need to know your record locator number. Go ahead.'
Did John Edward Become The New CEO Of American Airlines?
My flight from Dallas to Chicago was on a 767, which has two aisles down which passengers can walk to get to their seats. The flight attendant looked at my boarding pass, noted my seat location and said: 'Seat 25A? Please cross over to the other side.'
If you're the proud owner of a Mr. Jack you can e-mail me at PretzelLogicDave@aol.com and tell me all about it. Photos optional.