Here’s an idea for you.  If you cut my hair or I bowl with you, we don’t need to be friends on LinkedIn.  OK?  Good talk.

When walking the streets of New Orleans it is important to keep your eye wide open. You might for instance stumble into what looks like a dive bar that is about to serve up a fresh crawfish boil and that has THE best tequila I have ever come across. For that particular meal I went with the Corralejo Reposado followed by Don Julio 1942 (what was most likely the finest drink I had in Nola). I may have to write a blog about the 1942 alone, short version is that it was glorious. I am however getting off topic. The wife and I were wandering the streetswhen we came across a place called Greg’s Antiques and Other Assorted Junk. We ended up buying a light for our dining room. La dee da. Upon leaving we passed a true dive playing obnoxious dance music. While glancing in so that I could visualize this hole and come up with the perfect quip, I saw it…. the sign said “Bacon Martini $4.99″. We looked at each other and turned in without a word. this is the part of the story where I remember that we actually saw this when we came back to show Jeff and Raina the light we bought, but this is a blog and not a novel so continuity can go fuck itself. Anywho, the FOUR of us entered this obnoxious little hole in the world without discussion. We ordered four PBR’s and a Bacon Martini. The barkeep showed us the bottle with the stips of bacon rotting in it as if to say “”are you REALLY sure”. Hell yes we were sure, it’s bacon. Bacon is great. Everybody loves bacon.

Now the second warning should have been the plastic cup in which this “Martini” was housed. I was not all that worried, in my system were Hurricane, Hand Grenade, whiskey, PBR, tequila and a few other things I can’t remember from the previous 24 hours. Even if the bacon wasn’t cooked this drink could not harm me. Salmonella would run away crying if it encountered the liquor circus in my belly. So in I dove. Upon lifting the drink I catch the bacon fat floaties. This my friends is the point at which one puts down the drink and says no thank you. But it was one in the afternoon and I was kinda drunk, so I had that going for me. Then it happened, I sipped this crime against the wills of the cocktail gods. Think urine meets olive brine with a dash of spit and a toe soaked in it for about 15 to 20 minutes. The only redemption is that both Lizzy and Jeff tried it as well. The only regret is that I could not believe it was as bad as it seemed, so I went in for another sip. I want you to know that I did not puke, but I did violated. I’m talking prison sex violated. I really just wanted to shower and cry.
Bacon Martini

While I will try and keep technology out of this fine new outlet of mine, I will from time to time drop a nugget on ya.  This one is applicable as it allows the Blackberry addict in your life to use that damn deminic tool of corporate slavery to inject a bit of culture in one’s life.  I am sure you have heard of this great service Pandora.  Allows you to set up internet radio stations to your own taste or one that you are sure will get you chicks.  Now my friends this service is available on your Blackberry.  I have been using this a few days and can say I am thrilled with it.  Sound quality is what it is on the Blackberry, but it means I don’t have to carry my teather (Blackberry) and iPod on bike rides or to the gym.  To load go to http://www.pandora.com from your Blackberry web browser.

You may find that you have to update your Blackberry OS for this to work.  If that is the case you can google it or if you leave a comment with your Blackberry model and the service provider I can point you in the right direction.

George Dickel

George Dickel Tennessee Whisky

When a fella offers to buy you a shot you say “YES”.  When he follows it up with “we’re drinking Dickel, this is the what you drink when they are re-attaching you finger” you say “HELL YES”.  George Dickel Tennessee Whisky is not for the Jack and Coke slicksters you see at the local nightclub.  It’s not stocked at most bars and you won’t stumble across a whole lot of people who have this gracing the shelves of thier liquor cabinet/ former television stand.  It lacks name recognition like a Scotch without a “Glen” and the uber low price tag that can draw you into lesser known brands.  It sips well but can be intimidating on the nose at first.  I am by no means a true connesuerr(I can’t even spell the stupid word).  Thusly, I leave you with the following recommendation.  If you like to sip straight whisky try it.  I liked it.  If you just like Whisky Cokes then stick to JD.

If your in the Metro Detroit area and would like to try some george Dickel head to Dino’s in Ferndale.  That’s where I found it.

You may have noticed the Fleur De Lise thing I got going on on the page.  this is in honor of my trip to the big easy next month.  I have assembled a N’awlis Bucket List.  Feal free to suggest other must do activities for my trip.

Drink a Sazurac
Drink a Hurricane
Eat Cajun food
Eat a Po’Boy
Drink other stuff
See stuff
Try alligator

The following was written while in Shanghai on business after a day of exploring….  (April 2008)

The spirit of adventure caught me and I decided to visit the visit the Yuyuan Gardens in old Shanghai today. Well, let me clarify, I tried to walk there, but was apparently nowhere near it as it is on the other side of the Bund. A 16 RMB ($2.20) cab ride, the driver points at some ancient Chinese (style) buildings and I get out and walk the rest of the way there. Little did I know that to get to the gardens I would have to make my way through a maze of shops, street vendors and people trying to sell me “Rolex” watches and “Gucci” hand bags. Within this sea of people a young Chinese couple who wanted to talk with me to practice their English and were apparently fascinated by my size and paleness. They explain during the conversation that they are from Beijing, they are art students and they have an exhibit right around the corner conveniently enough. I decide to check it out. I end up spending 200 RMB (a whopping $28) which is most of my money, but they agree to show me where the ATM is and I figure I can grab money to get into the gardens, which they also agreed to help me find. What I did not realize at that time is that earlier in the day I grabbed lunch and paid with my ATM card. My bank being the ultra efficient and responsive institution that it is flagged my account as this was the first time I used my card in China and I failed to notify them I would be travelling here. No problem, I figured I would call the bank and straighten it out, but I would have to walk through the maze and out of the sea of people before I get on the horn and start broadcasting my bank information. I call them and they tell me that their system is down for maintenance and there is nothing they can do. At this point I quickly realize I might have a problem. The 15 RMB I have left will not get me back to the hotel let alone to see the beautiful ancient gardens (that I had finally found at this point). I start wandering and trying to think of what I need to do at this point when I meet another lovely young lady who happens to be an art student from Shanghai who has an exhibit right around the corner. [Insert moment of realization here] Not only am I broke with no way back to my hotel, but I’ve been scammed. At this point I just start walking, at some point I play a game of follow the white guy (he’s got to be going somewhere good), but eventually he stopped to tie his shoe and so as not to look like a stalker I continue walking. Eventually I remember I have a map and am able to figure out where I am, but still have this whole “river to cross issue”. I find my way back to the Bund and remember that there is a tourist crossing they were talking about that was pretty cheap for crossing the river. I find it on the map and continue walking. I had the pleasure of meeting three young art students that really wanted my thoughts on their art exhibit. Seriously, at this point I pull a card out of my pocket that had a hooker on it (some guy gave it to me while I was walking) and asked them where I could find the prostitutes. They let me go at that point and I made my way excitedly to the “Scenic Tourist Tunnel” that was almost in sight. I finally get there and almost do a little dance, until I notice that the price is 30 RMB. I dig through my bag and find 8 more RMB and consider pan handling for the first time in my life. Unfortunately there was another guy working the block and his missing leg gave him a lot more cred. I decide that at this point the taxi would be affordable with the extra money I found and make my way back to the hotel.

Which brings me to my final installment of “What am I drinking?” I bought what I think is liquor at the grocery store. It cost me 2.50 RMB (and this needs to be converted because it is 35 cents) so it must be the good stuff. You might notice that this story is a little bit long winded. That is because I have a shot of this toxic liquid in a cup waiting for me to finish, so I can drink it. It has a strange sweet swell that is particularly uninviting, I’ll be honest, I’m almost sick just from that. Here goes.

Oh man, that shit is just wrong. I haven’t gagged from a shot in quite some time. The only thing I can attribute it to is maybe sweetened, but fermented rice. Sake gone wrong and that just kept going. I also have the added bonus of having that odor that bugged me so much now being a flavor that is stuck in my mouth.

Just playing with this, if it sticks you can expect to see bad grammar,  and everything from whiskey reviews to my own travels and misadventures.  The first post (besides this one smart ass) is from the archives just to give yo all a taste of what’s to come.

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