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Since I’ve been in New Orleans I’ve not been able to get that Black Lips song out of my head, good thing it’s an ace tune eh.

A guy from Leigh (though he said he was from Manchester, incorrect my friend) traded me 2 beers for the use of my Skype this morning, I’d have let him use it for nowt but hey, I wasn’t going to argue with the man. It worked out at 3 English pence per can, Jurassic Park.

With regards to my plans for not becoming a big unit, I’ve decided healthy(ish) food in the day and then some of America’s finest nosebag most nights. So I went a few blocks south this morning to find this mythical ‘Walmart’ place everyone keeps waffling about. It was like a city ….. Bimingham. I got back to the hostel to give the Cheerios a whirl but I don’t know what this evil pap was I had bought but it certainly wasn’t acka bilk. I was nearly sick out of my left nostril when my beak got a foot away, hangin’ man. Binned it, I’ll have another go in Asda tomorrow.

There’s a food chain over here called Popeyes chicken and biscuits and seen as though I’m a chap with a curious nature it’s got me to thinking; if chips are crisps, what the devil are biscuits? I intend to find out.

It’s a gorgeous day, but not intrusive as there’s a nice breeze blowing. I’m even sporting my half butchered Levis, which has led me to discover I’ve developed calves like the Governator with all the walking. Blimey.

I’m just on the free ferry back across the Mississippi from Algiers now. Boacher can you tell Dad that he’s what one would call a ’soft lad’. He made it sound like he’d been strolling round Compton. It was perfectly fine and I had a cheeky afternoon pint in the Crown and Anchor with the proprietor (a United fan from Putney!), who was a good chap.

Can you also tell him that I’ve been up and down Bourbon Street and haven’t seen this Chucks joint. Is it on a side street? Actually I reckon Chuck done one up-state after Pop’s last visit in case he came back.

So now I’m in the Old Opera House drinking a cold Heinken (well 2) watching some bloke belt out Stones and Dylan tunes, he’s currently doing a decent version of ‘Tangled up in Blue’. Good bar this, though the tender is a bit of a muppet. Oh well it’s not my tip he lost eh.

Prior to that some geezer with knife scars (I presume) all over his swede walked with me a while and tried to entice me into his bar with X, crystal, smack and pretty much anything inbetween. I politeley declined, well I said maybe later pal in an effort to placate my new Scarface lookey likey friend.

Alright, I’m in the same bar still as it’s still 2 for 1 drinks (don’t worry Mother, my drinking is in moderation. But that said I am wondering the plains of America by myself like Walker Texas Ranger, what else you going to do but have the odd fridge friend) and I love the music. The bloke on stage has switched from semi-acoustic to soft electric and is now shuffling blues/jazz/soul hybrid stuff. Bobby Derrin having a cup of coffee with Satchmo apparently. I like it. I even gave the barman a $2 tip and he’s perked up, my 2nd Heineken in the transaction is now on ice.

It was worth hanging about ‘n all as this fella is one hell of a guitarist (Tex, you’d love him. Buzz light years better than that Creedence sick-merchant numpty you made me watch).

I’ll try and describe him for y’all (I’m joking I hope y’all know); he has a teddy boy barnet, a low cut and sleeveless black shirt (with some redneck design I can’t make out from my stool at the bar), a pair of black Levis, cowboy boots of some sort and a voice that eats duty free whiskey and cigs by the bucket load. Chuck Berrying it at the moment.

I need to leave before I lose my passport.

I’m now in Oceania and I’ve just ordered a ‘grilled Cajun alligator sausage po-boy’. I’ve no idea what awaits me but hopefully the draft Abita Amber local beer should mitigate the horror if it goes south.

It was nice to see ya to see ya nice, the all American meal I’ve been waiting for. Jurassic Park.

I was waiting for the street car back home but there was a local girl who’d be waiting for over an hour who gave up (considering they are due around every 15 minutes) so I did too. It only took me 10 or so minutes on the way in so I figured less than a half hour following the tracks and I’d be there, correctly as it happened.

A quiet night in the hostel is now my intention, we’ll see.

I forgot to take pics on my phone again, I only remembered when my grub came. Oh well, I know of at least 2 ladies (poetic license pending) it will appeal to.

Apologies if these posts are getting too long, but I find myself blogging when there’s no conversation on offer. Discreetly let me know if they should be more concise.

2 weeks in and still going wrong folks, strong I mean, going strong.