An Immodium Story or diarrhea is no fun

Our Dinner At Antoines

There are lots of people with diarrhea. All of those people are pissed off at the makers of Imodium and the secondary sellers of said product. Why do you ask, well let me tell you. Those asshats packaged their tiny little ass pills in a sorry blister pack that no one can open. Don't believe me, google it. The stories will make you sob. People with shit running all over themselves and they cannot open the blister packs to save their ass. IF you get my drift.

OK, just back had to take a break. Yep, in the bathroom.

Big Daddy and I both live on Imodium. I have IBS and BD has a sliced and diced anus from cancer. I go between serious and not and BD is a regular user, at least every day. We know our Imodium. The first time BD brought home the blister pack I told him, dude that will never work in your lifetime. You cannot get that damn thing open ever, and especially in the stall at the Sky Club when you really need it. So when life proved me right we sat down and cut all those damn blisters open with scissors and BD swore to never buy them again.

And then this happened. There are only blister packs available in the stores. And on line. The only thing the clerk could figure is that the manufacturers figured out no one would buy that shit and now with all of us cut off at our knees and Gretchen keeping us locked up at home they are gonna get rid of those fucking blister packs. Yep, that is all that is available.

Those bastards.

So we got the scissors back out and cut up the blisters. Fie on you bastards.

And Gretchen said her husband was only joking when he asked if he got special privileges cos he was married to the jailer. Yea, right.

Vacation is winding down

I can not believe I am actually ready and looking forward to coming home to China. Kind of a reality check on the things I need to change when I get back and what I can do to make our lives there easier. Oh, and I have to take down the free Christmas tree from Meal Bay.

Visited Mother-in-law today and the drive was not bad. She seems to be having some hearing difficulty and the old people's refusal to spend money. She won't get DSL as she is being frugal. I told her, spend all your money and your kids will take care of you if you are broke. She has great pensions and no bills. Indulge yourself. And with kids and grandkids all over the world, go for it. She would love FB if she had access other than dial-up and could talk to all the kids and grandkids whenever she wanted. And she is complaining no pictures, her daughter told her "they are all on FB." Saw my brother, the silver fox, at a Christmas gathering on a FB picture and I have not seen him in years. Go figure.

Trip back from New Orleans was fine, we were not cancelled for the huge storm in the east, but my Punkin Head and the Lady are out there in New England and I hope they are OK.

New Orleans has lost a beat. Well, more than a beat. It has lost the vibrance and hint of decadence that always simmered on the back burner. It was frankly boring at times. No Victorian figures wandering the streets with history lessons, decorations were minimum, no weddings, and no Christmas music. This street performer came to sing under my balcony as there were no people on the street and I told him "Christmas". He had a huge and beautiful voice and suddenly he started getting tips when he sang a hymn or two.

Most of the musicians were faux cowboys and they were loud and horrid. I called the front desk to ask them to move the "Kettles" from under my second floor balcony and to make a formal complaint and they backed down and refused to call the noise ordinance people. (Hah, I now have that number myself.) They told me it was a public street and sidewalk. And then the porters (who only showed up when they wanted to rag on their girlfriends outside the front door) tried to tell me I could not smoke 6 feet to left of the front door, only 6 feet to right. I can guess you all know how that went, public property is public.

The good was the food, we found Jimmy Luizza again at Antoine's and had a wonderful dinner and a new signed Holiday menu, crabmeat ravigot and pompano with lump crab. Found Joe at the Bistro and had a wonderful duck dish. Revillion dinner at the Rib Room had good food but not so good experience. This old bag turned around and started screaming in my ear that she had lost her valet ticket. She was screaming at our waiter that was across the table from me. I mean, really lady, if you are well over 65 and can not keep track of your shit---you need help. A keeper or a bubba. So the waiter is trying to get to her and she keeps shouting until she finds it. When she is done, I politely asked her if everything was ok. When she said yes, I told her "do not bark in my ear again". Everyone ran for cover and she Harumpped. Hilarious.

We only found one museum open, a photography exhibit of the 7th ward through the old times to Katrina and some rebuilding.

Tomorrow is lunch at Roma Cafe in Eastern Market to see and old friend and then laundry and packing for the trip home.

Dinner at Antoine's

Guess you noticed the last post did not work. Oh well. I cannot rewrite something lost and can only hope to fill in with New Orleans past vacation photos.

To my friend Obi-Wan who was saluted in the lost blog, thanks again and lets meet with our agenda of friendship. Obi-Wan does not laugh at me and knows what an Avatar is . God, you would have loved the lost post. If you know how to get it back let me know.

These are pictures from our dinner at Antoine's, in the 1840's room. The picture to the left is the duck press described in the book and the right is moi reviewing the collection on the walls. This was a most magnificient dinner and indescribable decor. I really felt as if I was dining in history.