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I watched some mad nightly show on TV last night (the Colbert show I think) and this guy is America’s answer to Alan Partridge (KMKY era), acerama man.

I’ve wasted most of today really, didn’t get up until about 11 and then dicked about sorting emails and stuff. A shower, shave and 2 bowls of Cheerios later and I’m ready to face the world. But it’s 5 past 3 and I’ve found myself watching the 2nd half of the Porto vs Rags game in the common room.

There is a fella here cheering on them lot. I said I take it you’re not from Manchester then. “Yes I am, I’m from South Manchester”. Oh right, me to, where abouts? “Stockport”. For f*ck’s sake, this bloke is about the 5th person I’ve met in the last 2 weeks who has claimed to be a Manc when they are actually from a town near Manchester.

Anyway, I ask him what’s up with Stockport County. “They are never gonna win anything though”. Says it all, conversation terminated.

I wouldn’t mind going on one of the swamp tours round here but I haven’t got time now, plus it feels a bit wrong going looking for alligators when I ate one yesterday. Maybe next time I’m here.

The National World War II museum was on my list for today but it shuts at 5 so that’s out. My revised plan is to get up early tomorrow (ha, sure!) and catch it on my way to some Irish pub that’s miles away (I’ve had a butchers at a map and reckon it’s walkable) but is showing the City vs Hamburg game, KO 13:45 local time.

As for the rest of today/tonight I will shortly have a mooch uptown on Magazine Street, it’s supposed to be one of those trendy, bohemian, knobby sort of areas. Then tonight I’ll go and checkout all the voodoo and such like down the French Quarter.

I seem to have become an impromptu fridge magnet collector (a tad strange when you consider that I don’t own a fridge, or any kitchen appliances for that matter). I have 3 in my collection now, in fact NYC was the only place I didn’t get one, I shall correct this on the return leg. I think my new found fettish is related to the fact they they are the only bloody things I can fit in my bag!

Am now having a beer in a pub in a street named Decatur (which is the name of one of my top 5 songs of all time – Sufjan Stevens). Oh dear, I think it may be a gay bar, there was no warning!! The music is sh*re too, goes with the territory I guess. Heineken will be being finished rather sharply.

New Orleans is a funny old place, it’s full of intrigue and has an interesting vibe but it also has it’s cheap side and I’ve not found the people to be overly friendly (no complaints here in my current situation). I’d certainly come back, but not on my todd.

Back to the hostel now and maybe a sneaky pint on the way, if I can find a bar more to my liking that is.

With regards to the picture, quite the career change.

Until next time readers.

PS What’s Boris Becker’s favourite time of the night? ….. Tennis(h). That’s mine, you can use that if you like.