Saturday, February 7, 2009

New Orleans...

So, Aunt Bunny has been a part of my life long before she was Aunt Bunny.  When Jimmy and I got our first apartment together, Bunny lived just below us but over one apartment.  I said it was destiny, she said it was all her.  Bunny latched on to us and has never let go.  She now lives in Nashville, but we are always in touch.  Right now she is preparing to go to Amsterdam with her man for valentines day.  Anyway, now that you know our start, let me go on about our trip to New Orleans.....

Bunny, me and Bunnies Niece!
Bunny and her Mom, Step-dad and Brother are a very close family, and so Jimmy and I were pulled into the fold.  This is a group that gives each other shit a lot, but would fight and die for each other.  I am blessed to be a part of their family, and am grateful everyday for them!  So, Mom and Dad, Jimmy and I, and Bunny all decided to go to New Orleans.  This was before the hurricane.  We rented two rooms, cuz you know Bunny wasn't leaving us alone at all!  So, we arrived, started drinking, and sobered up days later on the plane ride home!  Eack!

Jimmy and I sober!
Yeah, not so sober!

So, night number one, Mom, Dad and Jimmy all started pooping out around 4 am.  Bunny and I still wanted to run around in the chaos, so mid way in Bourbon Street they left us to go back to the hotel for a nap.  So, with free reign, Bunny and I took up the torch to continue the party.

We walked along for a little bit, and in the middle of the street someone called out "show us what you got!" from the balcony.  Now, with all the people around us, they could have been yelling at anyone, but of course we just knew they were talking to us.  So, Bunny and I made eye contact, and prepared to flash the balcony.  We were quite drunk and a little fumbly.  With a drink in my hand it wasn't easy, but a moment later, my pants were at my ankles and Bunny was wrestling off her bra with her sweater wrapped tightly around her head.  It was quit a scene!  With the warm breeze brushing by our naked, exposed private parts, beads from heaven were raining down upon us!  It was so loud, all the yelling and beads falling.  The crowd moved to leave us in the middle of an empty little circle like we were going to do a dance solo on American Bandstand!  Suddenly,  I heard "Bunny, Honey, we need the card key to get into the hotel room!"

Yes, Mom had come back to get the card key to get back into the hotel room.   Bunny and I were standing in the middle of the street with all our assets hanging out!  Mom came over (while Bunny was attempting to escape the sweater that had enveloped her head) and reached into Bunny's pocket, took out the card key and said "you two don't stay out too long now!"  She walked away, Bunny popped her head out for the sweater and we both started cracking up with laughter!  Another down pour of beads, and back to the Hotel we went.

To this day, Mom has never said a word about our little moment in the street except that now she always tells Jimmy he is "a VERY lucky man!"  She is a very kind woman!

5 comments:

Unknown February 7, 2009 at 8:42 AM  

I went to NO once. I remember going to Bourbon Street, but I do not remember leaving Bourbon Street.

LOVED your post.

Kiss SSG bye for me.

HalfAsstic.com February 7, 2009 at 4:38 PM  

I can dimly remember having that much fun one time... more than one time?... many lifetimes ago. ;-) I never tire of hearing stories like that and they seem to mostly stem from New Orleans.. Huummmm.

Jason, as himself February 7, 2009 at 9:17 PM  

HA!!! This is fabulous! I have never been to New Orleans, but now I want to go more than ever!!!

And Predo? Your chest? I, uh, well, let's just say I love a hairy chest.

Noe Noe Girl...A Queen of all Trades. February 8, 2009 at 4:17 AM  

The last time I was in Nawleans for Madi Gras I came home and joined AA and a fat farm! Oh what fun!
Great Post and great pics!
I'm going to go dig mine out now!

Suz Broughton February 8, 2009 at 11:43 AM  

New Orleans should use this story as a travel advertisement. Haha.
Suz

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