For those of you who know what /b/ or 4chan is, you know that it tends to be the absolute dregs of the internet. We’re talking the depths of the Marianas Trench bad. I’d link, but if you really want to check it out on your own, you have to find it – and it won’t be hard.
Oddly enough, it’s also the birthplace of LOLcats. Go figure.
A few minutes ago, I randomly decided to pop onto /b/, as an odd way of figuring out what to do next with my day, work-wise.
Well, I was shocked to see a non scat/cp/horselove/furry/lolcat/tubgirl/2girls1cup/meme/whatever post, but this instead:
dear anon,
for many, many years there were these strange dots and filaments in my field of vision and i didn’t know what it was. i went to the oculist _several times_ but he said he couldn’t see anything unusual.
then, years after i started to live with my strange little friends (believe it or not, but i even named the first and biggest one, he’s called “horst”), i went to /b/ for a smooth little fap and then i see this picture in a “if you have floaters you must post ITT” thread.
world stood still for a second. then, i googled floaters (mouches volantes for the non-english) and found out what was accompanying me for so many years. it was so fucking relieving to just _know_ what it is, to have a term for it. it’s pretty harmless and so much fun because there isn’t a single day where i don’t play with my little friends in boring moments by letting them “jump” over obstacles and stuff. i think, my live is better with floaters, but it’s definitely better since i know what that “sickness” is.
so, anon, thank you for just sharing your diseases with other people, it might be helpful for someone! you’ll always have a place in my heart! (watch next post for tits, it’s an act of honor that i deliver)
tl;dr If you have floaters you must post ITT!
I SO have this – it’s called myodesopsia – and I’m guessing it’s quite common. I’ve had it as long as I can remember, but it’s never really negatively affected my vision, so I just ignore it most of the time. Mine is more subtle than the image below, simulating looking at a blue sky with myodesopsia:
I still can’t believe that /b/ was, well I wouldn’t necessarily say helpful, but I guess informative. And not in that “Oh my god, I really didn’t need to know/see that” sense.
Drinks and breakfast at 9, march at 10. We are again fortunate to have Panorama Brass Band tour with us throughout the day, and in order to cover the cost of these minstrels and the early morning feast, we ask for a $25 contribution – a paltry sum for such wonderful entertainment.
Hope to see you reveling in the streets tomorrow at one point or another. Below is the invite / route, and we’ll be stopping at the following bars, in order: R-Bar, Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, Jackson Square, Harry’s Corner, Molly’s at the Market, and the Spotted Cat.
Each year, we seem to grow, both in numbers and in fun – so if you and yours are looking for Mardi Gras Day plans, please come join us and ramble!
M: ya, after the game we all poured into our cars and drove home to shoot off some fire works
we didn’t want to walk the extra half-block to go into the big open field, so we decided that it would be fine to shoot them off in the neutral ground right under the power lines
P is lighting the fuse for one of the shells and I run into the street to stop the approaching car D: oh lord M: right as he lights it, I realize that this car I’m stopping is a cop
the cop gets on his bull horn and says “hey. hey you. you guys with the illegal fireworks… who dat!”
and drove off
I *love* this city
Forwarded to me by Dustin, too good not to pass along:
1. Every time they mention hurricane Katrina, drink 1
2. If they show pictures of the City of New Orleans right after Katrina, drink 1
3. Every time they say how much the Saints mean to the City of New Orleans , drink 1
4. Every time the words “tragedy”, “flood”, or “devastation” are used, drink 1
5. Every time they talk about how good Reggie Bush was in college, drink 3
6. If they show Kim Kardashian in the stands, drink 5
7. Every time they show a picture of Reggie Bush with a bat or say “bringing the wood” drink for 5 seconds.
8. Every time Reggie Bush gets negative yardage trying to run around in the backfield a bunch and outrun the defense, drink 1 and turn to the person next to you and say “I told you Vince Young should have won the Heisman”
9. Every time Reggie Bush gets up and flexes his arms in that pose he likes to do, drink 1
10. If they mention Tim Tebow for any reason, funnel a beer
11. Every time they say that “it’s destiny for the Saints to win” drink 1
12. If they show footage of Katrina survivors at the Superdome, take a shot of cheap liquor
13. If they call Saints fans the most passionate fans in football, drink 1
14. If they say that the Saints, Saints fans, or the City of New Orleans “deserve” a Superbowl victory, drink 1
15. Every time they say how good of a story the Saints are, drink 1
16. If Jeremy Shockey pretends to be hurt after dropping a pass, drink 2
17. If they mention the Saints beating the Falcons in 2006 in the first game after Katrina in the Superdome, drink 5 and remember that we are still a better football team with better fans.
18. Every time they compare hurricane Katrina to the Haiti earthquake, funnel a beer and yell “bullshit!”
19. Every time they mention Drew Brees as the Mardi Gras king, drink 1
20. Every time they show Archie Manning, drink 1, and mention how bad he sucked. If they show old footage of him on the Saints, drink 5. If they mention how tough of a decision it was for him as for whom to cheer for, drink 10.
21. Every time they show a saints fan yelling “Who dat!” Or a sign/shirt saying the same, drink 1.
22. If they show Chris Paul at the game, drink 1 and mention to someone how much better he is than Devon Williams.
23. If they show former Mayor Ray Nagin, drink 5 and then punch someone in the face
And I took this photo today, and proceeded to quickly devour the subject matter.
It tasted like victory.
Lemon and apple are by far my favorites, but how could I possibly turn down a Chocolate City Hu-Dat?
My old landlord Louis Maistros directed me to this video on Mr. Okra – a man I dare say is a New Orleans institution.
Well, maybe not New Orleans, but definitely a Quarter / Marigny / Bywater / 9th Ward institution. He’s like the ice cream man, but nowhere near as annoying or tooth-rotting. I love hearing him drive around the area, selling fresh foods with his unmistakable and unique cadence.
And an extra little touch on the video – the closing song is the title track from New Orleans Jazz Vipers’ album “Hope You’re Comin’ Back“. The oldest daughter of the guitarist will “sing” along with Mr. Okra if she hears him driving down the street, or will sing with you if you start mimicking him.
The following email was forwarded to me by my father. It was written by a good friend of his and attorney (we won’t hold that against him) Chip Saunders:
——– Original Message ——–
Subject: Who Dat
Date: Thu, 28 Jan 2010 12:21:42 -0600
From: John Saunders <audubon253 @cox.net>
To: <roger.Goodell2@nfl.net>
Commissioner Goodell, I hear the NFL thinks it owns the rights to the phrase Who Dat, as well as any use of the ubiquitous Fleur-de-lis:
Let’s begin with the fleur-de-lis, sir. It is, quite literally, an iconic representation of the Lily flower, and it has been in existence in French monarchy since at least the 12th century. At that time it became the heraldic emblem of the Capetian Kings of France, who claimed it was initially adopted at the time of the Frankish King Clovis 1 in 493. Since then the fleur-de-lis has been incorporated into the coat of arms or the flags of many European countries, including Spain, Luxembourg and the House of Bourbon. It has ALSO been used worldwide, appeared on postage stamps and, in North America, it has long been associated with areas settled by the French, such as Quebec, Louisville, St. Louis, Louisville and – yes sir – Louisiana, of which I presume you are aware New Orleans is a part.
When the Saints came into existence in 1967, it was normal and natural that the creators would want to adopt a symbol representative of that heritage. What could be more natural than the fleur-de-lis? It’s was and still is virtually everywhere throughout the region (hence my use of the word ubiquitous). But I said adopt, not co-opt. No one has a right to or ownership of the fleur-de-lis and I dare say anyone foolish enough to attempt to register it as a trademark, trade name, service mark or any other “protected” icon would be summarily laughed back into the bayou. And if, for argument’s sake anyone could own the word or the icon, what next? Will the NFL also claim, by virtue of the awarding of the franchise in 1967, that the name New Orleans is also the property of the NFL, issuing cease and desist orders to anyone marketing anything with those words in the colors old gold and black?
No, Mr. Commissioner, it’s time for you to have a come-to-Jesus-talk with your legal counsel and impress upon them the folly of claiming any rights of any kind in our beloved and historic symbol, the fleur-de-lis. Should the NFL try to pursue this course, I dare say you will find that there’s as much fight in Louisianans in general as there is in our wonderful Saints. You will think you’re in a real dogfight, sir.
Then let’s look at Who Dat. I could as easily ask you “Who Dat say dey gonna take our phrase? Who Dat? Who Dat?” Do you also claim ownership to the word Crunk, merely because it is now directly and principally associated with that fervor that breaks out in the Dome at every NFL game? Will all the fans have to remain in their seats and resist boogieing to the sounds, lest they infringe on some right the NFL thinks it has acquired? Tell that to the Ying Yang Twins and see how far you get.
Who Dat has been used in this region, in various settings and for various reasons, as far back as the 19th century. Though many claim something to do with its creation, it was being used by a regional high school in the 1970’s, repeated in college football settings thereafter, and was ultimately linked to the Saints in the early 80’s. If the NFL could establish any right in the phrase – which I suggest it cannot do – the NFL has nevertheless been silent for over 25 years while the phrase has been repeatedly used by any and all, in relation to the Saints as well as in relation to things that have absolutely nothing to do with the Saints. Again, Mr. Commissioner, to claim any proprietary right in the term is foolhardy. Next thing, you’ll be wanting everyone to pay a license fee to ask “Where Y’at?” or “How’s ya mama ‘n ‘em?”
Commissioner Goodell, many flags have flown over our city, and many nationalities have flourished here. But all who would assume management of our town have realized that while there may be cross-town rivalries, ethnic differences, economic jealousies and partisan bickering, when anything – ANYTHING – held sacred is challenged, the people of New Orleans become as one. The British learned it in 1815, and Rite Aid learned it when it assumed our beloved K & B drugstores and ceased offering Coke products for sale. Rite Aid may still be “Pepsi-exclusive” in other parts of the country, but we, the people of New Orleans, let Rite Aid know in no uncertain terms that if Coke was not available at Rite Aid, it most certainly was at Walgreen’s. In less than a year, Rite Aid reversed itself. Never underestimate the power of New Orleanians to wreak havoc on a corporate interloper telling us what we may or may not use.
This effort to claim any right in either the phrase or the icon is really a very wrong step. You’re tilting at a very large windmill and you will become an irritant to a populous you really don’t want to irritate. Perhaps, in that sense, you should consider the lyrics from the song: “Don’t you know little fool, you’ll never win; Why not use your mentality, come on step up to reality…”
Reality is, you have no right in either, and it’s time to drop the claim.
John C. Saunders, Jr.
253 Audubon Boulevard
New Orleans, LA 70125
(504) 866-3756
I just stumbled upon this, and it is too cool to not share:
Tom Waits and Kool Keith (aka Dr. Octagon, aka Dr. Dooom). The music is incredible, and the visuals certainly do not disappoint. I’ve done the hard work – you owe it to yourself to hit play.
The most difficult part of wedding planning has to be the guest list. Unfortunately, we can’t invite the whole world. And if you haven’t received the following in the mail yet, you probably won’t. Sorry.
We joked that we should say underneath the Sherri & Will some text like “But don’t tell Bea!“, as most people don’t know that Bea’s real name is Sherri. I thought it was funny.
I am working on something for post-reception festivities that everyone (well, minus kids) can go to. It should be fun, and I’ll keep you posted.
I hate taggers. Speaking in broad generalizations, I think taggers just a group of people who, unable to make their mark on the world, decide the next best step is to write their pseudonym in permanent marker on other people’s property. It’s juvenile and immature, and shows a distinct lack of respect for others. I’m sure I know some people who do this, and that’s unfortunate. Maybe even someone who reads this little blog thingy.
Just grow up.
I was no fan of taggers as a renter in this city, and now as a property owner, I am even less of a fan.
Fred Radtke, New Orleans’ own “Gray Ghost”, is no better. In fact, what he does in some cases is worse – he primers over these tags. It doesn’t matter if it’s on brick, glass, marble, cement, or traffic signs. Glass? Marble? Why on Earth would you put primer on these surfaces?
Since Sept. 24, I’ve been going back and forth with the Sewerage and Water Board. They decided to dig up a large part of the sidewalk and street directly in front of the house.
I don’t know why, I just know they took it upon themselves to do it. Well, early this week, they finally dug up the temporary gravel and actually re-cemented the sidewalk. Street is still unfinished, but eh, it’s progress and I’ll take it. Actually, as we speak, there’s a crew working on the street. I must have some sort of unrealized super power. Excuse me while I go get a lottery ticket.
Anyways, some jackass inevitably wrote his name is the wet cement. It wasn’t on the sidewalk, but on the edge of the street. I don’t know if it’ll be re-surfaced, and if it’s not, I’ll have to re-cement that strip strip to cover his name.
I guess I should be grateful. At least he didn’t write in something like “fuck” or draw some tits or something.
I took a quick jaunt uptown today to help my friend, a (quasi-?) retired lawyer, hook his cable internet line up to his shiny new wireless router.
About 15 minutes after arriving at his house, his two laptops and his wife’s desktop (who was up until today connecting via dial-up – *the horror*) were hooked up to his new wireless connection, and he was showing me his few prized pieces of artwork by our mutual friend, Maggie.
I wasn’t planning on taking any payment, but he made me an offer I couldn’t possibly refuse; a bottle of Jameson’s 18 year old Limited Reserve.
Needless to say, I was floored. This is on average an $80 bottle of whiskey, and in no way is this “payment” remotely close to the value of the time I spent. Then again, his wife is no longer on dial-up – I’d say he won the day.
I am unfortunately not enjoying a glass of it this evening, as I didn’t want to bike home with it – I opted instead to leave in the jostle-free environment of my office. I’ll collect it tomorrow, and probably won’t have a good chance to enjoy it until Saturday.
Oh, how I look forward to Saturday. And no, you can’t come over just yet.
