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Where's My Parrot Hat? - May 2010 Archives

Jazz Fest - What Happens There Stays There (except herpes, that shit sticks with ya)
Posted Thursday, May 6th, 2010 by cjsell

The Epic Journey Begins

Since my former pal Tangfred refused to send me Santa in time for the trip we had to take a replacement.  Cowboy Joe.  I am glad he accepted our invitation as Santa can't even come close to being as cool as him or drink as much.

This was the other cat who joined me on the trip.  I didn't realize he was Hank Williams Jr. until a couple hours into the trip.  The trip was going good until we made it to the amazing state of Kansas.  Home of the.......well not a whole damn lot.  This was by far the most exciting thing I saw in the whole state.

Oh yeah, I also discovered something I had no clue about.  I thought only the Easter Bunny, Santa and the Tooth Fairy were real.......

After about 20 hours of pure excitement, we finally made it to the state of our final destination.  See that gas station in the background?  We made it there with about 3 miles left of gas.  I also bought 3 scratch tickets and GUESS WHAT I WON?  Nada.


Thursday - Day 1 of Jazzfest


Alright, enough of boring driving tales.  Now the real action starts.  As we are rolling into NOLA, my buddy calls "the hotel we're staying at".  After spelling his last name about 20 times they still couldn't track down his reservation.  "I can't even understand what she was saying".  This is the same guy that still uses the term colored folk .  So we show up to "the hotel we're staying at".  The lady speaks perfectly good english.  Still can't find our reservation.  Thank god because it was all the way by the airport, which is about as far from the French Quarter as possible.  From here we start calling all the hotels on the Jazz Fest webpage.  

Call #3

Me: Do you have a reservation for Smeenk?

Lady: What?

Me: S-M-E-E-N-K

Lady: Yes we do

Me: Oh thank you Jebus!  I knew you were real!


Needless to say we were gonna be a little late.  I get in the room, put the beer in the fridge and start pounding a room temperature Old Chub.  Yikes.  We get down to the fest around 12:30 and step into The Blues Tent in time to hear somebody rockin our socks off.  "Who the fudge is this badass?"  Find the schedule and find out its Derek Miller.  Dude was sick.  Joe was too busy getting his drink on to notice I think.

After Derek was done we started heading toward the Gov't Mule stage and stopped in at the Jazz Tent where we heard these ladies jammin on some Aretha Franklin.

On our way over to Gov't Mule this amazing lady came rollin by.  Girl on the left was   

So we finally show up to Gov't Mule and meander our way to about 3 rows from the railing.  From here Warren manages to begin the meltage of my face.   When they were done we managed to move up right to the rail for Widespread and right next a nice young lady in a red dress.  I wanted to touch her hoohas (K ), but I figured this was a bad idea.  Widespread then completed the meltage of the face.  It went a little something like this.


After the fest ended at 7 , we decided we were gonna take it a little easy for the first night.  Headed back to the hotel/motel holiday inn and went and found some food nearby.  "Suck the head!"

Another great thing about this place was they had a sweet ass 80s cover band with a cougar bass player.  And our taking it easy night turned into shots of Wild Turkey and many Abita Ambers (meh).  Another high note was finding this jackpot on the way back.



Day 2 - Swamp Tour and House of Blues

We wake up "early" Friday morning and head out to Swamp Adventures for a trip of a lifetime.  We get there and it's a itty bitty shack right next to the swamp.  Walk inside and this guy tries to take my GD head off!

We get out to the boat and meet the 2 old people who are going on the tour with us.  They definitely made it better.  The old lady was a serious Nervous Nelly and her husband liked making fun of her for it.  Our guide shows up, gets us on the boat and this was his speech.

I'm Joel and I'll be your guide.  Ize born and raised in the Bayou and have lotsa sperience with gaytas as you can see.  Right here's where a gayta bit through my top lip.  Right here's where a gayta got my lip again.  Right here's where a gayta took my finga off.

We take off in the kick-ass fan boat and get a ways down and he shuts her off.  Then we see this lil fella start swimming our way.


His name is Sven and he likes marshmallows.  

Old Lady: Can they jump in the boat?

Joel: Well they can jump half their length out the wata and he's about 8 feet.  Da boat is abouda foot out the wata.

Old Lady:

Old Guy:  That means yes honey!

We continue on for about 2 hours during which the guide manages to stop and spot about 8 more regular gators and many other random animals nobody else would have ever seen.  At the end we stroll up to a little dead end where we see about 20 baby gators hanging out on a log.  Then all of a sudden this head pops out of the water.  Hissssssssss.  Apparently the mama didn't like us messin with the babies.  Was pretty damn fun.  I'd recommend it, but only if there's a crazy guide with some wounds and sweet stories.


After that exhausting morning we head down town because DUMBASS forgot his ticket for the House of Blues show .  While waiting in the line for them to figure out how we could get a ticket this old black dude comes strollin up with a nice pink towel slung over his shoulder.  Comes up to be and starts talkin some form of english that I really couldn't make out much.  All of a sudden he sits down and tells me to put my foot on his leg.  He then pours some soap on my shoes and starts buffin away.  I was like "What the fudge just happened?  How did I agree to this?"  After a nice shining he manages to jibberish me into giving him a couple dollars.  He then holds up his 1oz bottle of soap, smiles, and says "By the end of this bottle I'm gonna has me Fo Huned Dollas".  Well worth it.  Check out the amazing shine on these bad boys.


After getting a ticket, we head out to grab some food.  Gosh Darn!  How I love Louisiana food!  We then start walking around on Bourbon St. to figure out what we're gonna do.  "Hot Damn, look at all these f'in strip clubs!"  This doesn't seem legal.  We then stop in to Huge Ass Beers where we get what had to have been about a 40oz plastic cup o' beer.  Neither of us finished because we were so full from lunch still.  We then head back to the hotel to drop off the car and get warmed up for Old Crow Medicine Show.  We had to have had about 4 beers each in about an hour before we got our cab.  I could tell this was gonna be entertaining right when we got in

Cabbie: Whew, glad I got you guys.  The other guy had to pick up a couple big ass trannies that I pissed off earlier.


Cabbie: Where ya'll headed?

Smeenk: Downtown to meet some friends on.....(looks at me)

Me: Oh shit, that street that starts with a C

Cabbie:  Uhhhhh

Me: Cor...Can....

Cabbie: Conti?

Us:  Yeah!


He drops us off and we head down to Bourbon St.  Stop into some random place to listen to a badass guitar player shreddin some blues.  I also had some person buy me one of these.  Not tasty/ really awkward.


After a few more drinks we finally head to the House of Blues where Old Crow put on the best show I've ever seen.  HOB is a great venue and those dudes had a ton of energy.



We then stumbled out for our first night on Bourbon St.  Went and saw a few more bands at little places and not much really exciting happened.  Oh yeah, there were some nasty strippers hanging out the door of some place that tried to grab my buddy and pull him inside!  We were scared so we walked down a couple blocks and went to another one.  Insane prices so we left after pounding one drink.


Day 3 - Jazzfest followed by ?????


So our plan was to make it Jazzfest on time for Saturday.  Well after staying out til 4ish the night before we didn't quite get this done.  We did get there earlier than the first day though.  Went and watched Chris Thomas King play first.  According to Smeenk "He's the colored guy who sold his soul to the devil in Oh Brother Who Art Thou".  Were you raised in the 50's or what?  Who says colored?  Anyhoo, the dude kicked ass.


We then saw some blind dude and his band which was sweet, and another Bayou Band of some sort with some accordian and such.  I didn't see any music that I didn't thoroughly enjoy.  But then we headed over to get a good spot for Pearl Jam.  Showed up about 2 hours early and there was not a spot to be found.  Managed to finagle my way to a spot straight out from the stage and not too far back.  This was my first time seeing PJ and they did not disappoint.  Finished up with "are you guys ready to............KICK OUT THE JAMS MOTHA FUCKA!!!!!!!"


After waiting for about 15 minutes because they stopped early, we finally took off.  Stopped in to see if I could get a shirt.  $45 for a fuckin T-shirt!!?  No thanks.  Headed back for another night of debouchery. 

Went and saw a couple more bands and did a lot of white guy dancing.  Also saw stuff like this chick.  She is not the hottest waitress(??) we saw, but you can imagine.

I was told that I ended up dancing with some lady for a long time.  Next thing I knew I was wandering around aimlessly downtown with no idea how I got there.  Tried calling my buddy and no answer.  Uh oh, what the fuck happened?  All of a sudden this old black lady pops out of nowhere.

Crackho: Whatcha doin?

Me: Trying to get a cab

Crackho:  You don't need a cab, I'll give you a ride.

Me:  Uh

Crackho:  Come on, where you goin?

Me: No thanks (In my head "please don't shank me")


I stumble off and eventually find a cab.

Cabbie:  Where you goin?

Me:  Oh shit, umm up North

Cabbie:  North?

Me: Yeah I-10

Cabbie:  I-10 doesn't go north

Me:  Ah damn, I mean west

Cabbie:  Alright

Me:  I'm gonna need to stop at a ATM when we get there

Cabbie:  ugh


We get to a gas station and I go in and pull out a 20.  Get about half way back to the cab when I realize that's not enough.  D'oh!  Go back and get another and pay the man.  I'm surprised I didn't pass out in there like I did the night before.  I get in the room and look at my last call to Smeenk.  Time: 4:55am  This is the last picture taken that night, around 4:00.  


Oh, I also found a J in my pocket the next day and have no clue where that came from.  Needless to say it was a great time.





Lychee: What the #### is it and how the #### do you know what it tastes like?
Posted Thursday, April 8th, 2010 by cjsell

While I was looking at some reviews for an IPA the other night I came across a word that left me all sorts of confused.  Lychee.  I had to google it to figure out if it was another one of those beer descriptions that goes right over my head.     It was not.  It's a member of the soapberry family that is found primarily in Asia, Southern Africa, and Mexicio.  This is it.

This got be thinking about some of the ridiculous stuff people put in reviews.  I will admit I don't have the best palate when it comes to... well anything really, but YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!!! .  



What's the point of writing a review that means absolutely nothing to 99% of the people who will read it?  Here are a few of my favorite mind-numbing descriptions I've come across recently.



  • The fruity hop components still play a big role in the flavor though, as they contribute clean notes of lychee, kumquat skin and a nicely fruity citrus component.


- Oh my, how I love the taste of kumquat skin!


  • Bright lychee, ample bergamot, clean tangelo, kumquat oil and some clean apricot aromas define the dominant hop fruit notes.


- I know what tangelo and apricot taste like.  I've never had a dirty apricot so I'm glad this tastes like a clean one.


  • The aroma is at first cidery, but then becomes musty and woody with spicy notes of orange peel, ginger, lemon, as well as hints of cobwebs, acetic of lychee, kumquat skin and a nicely fruity citrus component.


- What the fuck do cobwebs smell like?


  • The aroma smells quite fruity as I pour this beer into my glass; notes of sweet plums, raisins, some definite fig notes, and a distinct fruity note that reminds me of something like quince paste. 


- Quince paste: that just sounds really untasty, and another word that had to be googled 


I'm not trying to call anybody out, but had to vent on one of my biggest pet peaves.  Feel free to ambush me with comments of how dumb I am.





Parrot Hats- Fasion Statement or Faux Pas?
Posted Wednesday, March 31st, 2010 by cjsell

I've been wondering for a while now why the Parrot Hat hasn't become more of a pop-culture icon.  Is it due to it's lack of durability?  I think not.  The styrofoam pieces fall out of their slots so easily it's nearly impossible to tear the fine material.  The elastic band which provides its amazing tight-fit comfort will stretch to fit even the largest of all giant heads.  Is it the outrageous $0.99 price tag keeping the Hollywood bigwigs from sporting one of these bad boys?  Doubtful.  


The only possibility that comes to mind is they don't realize the functionality of this amazing cranium concealer.  As shown below it provides warmth, is headlamp adaptable, and really highlights a nice molest stache.  One day, the Parrot Hat will take off.  When that time comes just remember, don't look directly into the dog's ass.


Parrot Hats FTW