I got your Sasse right here*
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Early Friday morning I posted that bit on loneliness — which sparked a lenghty debate between a bunch of my friends on grand topics such as life, love, and happiness — and then I went to New Orleans that night to see some titties. And while it was good fun to be among the sweltering masses of Bourbon Street, and while N.O.'s Mardi Gras is, amazingly, much less creepy than Austin's, the most ineresting fact of the weekend was that the parades were easily as enjoyable as the debauchery. The main appeal was people on floats tossing beads at you, and cheering for them, cajoling for them, and collecting them was a blast. More gratification for less hassle.

The trip was a damn good time, even if a bit rushed. I may write more later on it, but for now, pictures.

*Jorg Sasse is a photographer Capps referenced in a comment a while back.

The Sasse impersonation:



An alternate shot of the building, which was right across the street from where we watched the parade:



This guy came riding by before the parade. He totally kicked ass.



There were three main types of participants in the parade: floats, marching bands, and dance teams, interspersed with a few random organizations that rode horses or played bagpipes or something. I thought the bands and dance teams were the most interesting photographically, perhaps because of their movement, but this may also have been because I was distracted by flying beads every time a float passed.



I'd like to take more pictures of people, because there is a greater likelihood of capturing something unexpected, such as this guy's eyes.



This dude's grill could not be any cooler.



I'm not sure which of these two I like better. Crosses in the background were a common backdrop to many Mardi Gras events. The Christians were very friendly, though, and not at all forceful or reminscent of Jonathan Edwards. They kicked it on street corners and in the middle of Bourbon, talking to anyone who felt like it. Secretly, I'm sure this is just an excuse for a vacation for them, like everyone else. In the name of the Lord, I must look at these boobs while I proselytize.





You can see we made quite a haul on the beads. Here Grady toasts himself and his color-coordinated accessories.



Finally, this is me brushing some dirt of my shoulder. That giant cowboy hat should've gotten me laid. Alas, no.



There's probably some more pictures coming. Still got disposable cameras to develop, although those pictures may be off limits . . .