Mongoose: it’s a type of goose, right?

Ahoy ahoy, and it’s time for another spread of activities on this very blog toast. No better thing to do than to write my blog on my mobile when sitting in the back seat of a car that’s blasting out Bright Eyes, doncha think?
Though my apologies are pretty drawn out by now, I apologise for the lateness of this update. With my parents coming down for spring break, uni work piling up and keeping the house in order, it’s no wonder that I haven’t even touched a computer for over two weeks (apart from when downloading Inuyasha, ahha). I’m thinking of just cutting down my updates to about once a month because I can’t honestly keep up.
Yes, once a month – something to keep Aunt Flow busy with for a few minutes before she flushes the red sea (ergh, how crude). I just don’t want you to think that I’ve abandoned you all (brits). In fact, I’m looking up plane tickets to visit you guys for the summer (late June, early July), with Amy and Sebastian.. so!
Anyway, hope y’all are enjoying the spring time – I’m sure you brits are sick and tired of the snow by now. The sky down here is a cloudless blue, and it’s just warm enough to wear shorts. In fact, it’s such nice weather that I’m typing this outside, missing the rat terrier by my legs (I’ll explain later). Also, the breeze feels nice on my patchy leg hair (yeah, laugh it up). I’d be wearing sunglasses too if it weren’t for these god forsaken goggles that I’ve been wearing since I was 6. But anyway, alas, an update as promised.

Aforementioned in the previous post, me, Amy, and Amy’s friends Mia and Brandon headed to a gay club one night, after eating our ordered in Japanese food (meso beans and snow fish crab sushis ftw). Though at first glance, being one of the few, if not, only straight guy in a gay bar may not seem that appealing, it was actually a lot a fun. And guys, you know me. I’m not homophobic nor do I have any real shame. Since the drinking age down here is 21, we went back to our teenage days by getting older ones to buy us drinks, providing that we buy them a drink too, obviously. But hey, let me tell you – that gay bar was one of the safest places I’ve ever been in. I was certain that I wasn’t going to be mugged, and there was no inclination of hostility or fights ever to arise. It was purely a night of dancing, moderate drinking (even though the bartender went topless, stood up on the counter and poured free shots to those with their mouths open – very much like a bird with her nested chicks), and people calling each other baby, honey, darling, and buu.
As the night went on, closer and closer did the Drag Queen show come – and to those homophobes who most probably don’t read my blog and thinks you can laugh and joke at the drag queens: in this situation, trust me, you wouldn’t want to. These ‘ladies’ were at least 7 feet tall (without the x inched heels, mind you), wide as a door, as muscular as a Belgium cow. These are not people that you’d want to be messing with. The audience would form a semi-circle, with the core being the centre stage. Given the chance, those who had the money slipped the Queens bills in barely concealed areas. The show itself was a lipsync – each Queen had their two show songs, and they’d lipsync to it, dancing around performing. And ladies, you know how hard it is to jump around dancing on heels, so kudos to these guys! At the end of the show, the main Queen, asked all those who were straight to raise their hand. The Queen grabbed one guy with his hand up to participate in the Grande Finale. The Queen (oh, it’s cordial to refer to the Queen as a her rather than a he) asked him , “Honey, how straight are you?”
This guy, with his cap shadowing his eyes, grabbed the microphone from her and said in a gruff voice, “I’m really fucking straight”
Tension ensued. Why be at a gay bar if you’re a homophobic? Nevertheless, the show must go on.
“Well baby, this is a test to see how straight you are. Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch you, I promise ”
And with the guy pushing away, you can hear his voice in the distance, “Hey, get away, don’t fucking touch me!”
Quiet rightly, the audience booed, and shouted obscenities at the zebra among the pride of lions.
So, Amy thought it’d be a good idea if I went on stage, and pushed me on as soon as the guy was chanted out.
“Oh hey baby, where are you from?”
“Err, England”
“England?! Aren’t you supposed be be from Asia or something? Are you a good cook? I’ve never had Chinese before..”
Not so much a racist comment, but a tease in the comedic sense.
Now, back to how the show was supposed to go, she said she wasn’t going to touch me, but at the same time test my sexuality. I agreed.
Her hand was an inch away from my body, and she moved her hand down towards my crotch.
Then, with a flick of her wrist brushed against the zipper of my jeans.
“Oh baby! Are you sure you’re straight? You seem pretty gay to me!”
Everyone laughed, and everyone clapped, and she laid a big red lipstick mark on the side of me cheek.

Fin!

Backstage, we all introduced each other and were shown compare and contrasts of them being male and female. After, we all danced the night away to Britney Spears and Lady Gaga.
One of the guys we met that night, Eddie, had a puppy that he couldn’t keep – his apartment doesn’t allow pets and his parents already have too many dogs. A rat terrier was abandoned in the middle of nowhere, and as Eddie walked by, he found the poor puppy in the ditch whining – bare in mind, this pup is no older than 4 months. So, Eddie had to find a home for in within a week otherwise it would’ve been sent to the pound. So as the week passed, me and Amy decided to be good Samaritans and took it in. Our apartment complex doesn’t allow animals either, but we had to keep it for at least a night ’cause we were to give it to Amy’s Papa, who will in turn give it to a nice home. Apart from it shitting and pissing everywhere, it reminded me of my little chihuahua back home (I know, I’m so manly). I always admit to be more of a cat person but his pup was attached to me: slept with me in the bed (don’t worry, Amy was in the bed also!), followed me everywhere I went, and whined for me when I left the room. I was also the one to hear it’s first bark – it pained for me to give away that puppy.
Sebastian loves dogs from a distances, ’cause you know how dogs are; always jumping up on you wanting some lovin’ and Bub didn’t fancy that too much. However, we got the puppy in the middle of the night when Bub was sleeping so when he woke up, he saw it in the kitchen and said that he was going to name it Buttercup :3
That weekend, I headed to Sugarland/Houston, Texas to meet my sister, my mum and my dad who came down to visit – my uncle and aunt lived there. After an exhausting 5 hour drive, of doing pretty much nothing, a show of hands flew in the air and a reunion was pursued!
Amy’s step dad Charles decided to give me a ride there even though it cost him all those bucks and time, but he felt a little sorry for me since I haven’t seen my family since July so he thought he’d tag along. We didn’t really do much until it was time for dinner. Within that time, I had a plethora of British and Asian ordinary food products that I’ve been without for months. Not surprisingly, the digestive biscuits barely lasted a week (the epitome of a British biscuit, it stopped some people from asking me what the difference was, eugh). After a lot of catching up, my uncle and aunt took us to a sushi and Japanese buffet place that was quite high class. They had half crabs the size of your face, and a flurry Japanese delicacies of which their names I cannot even begin to pronounce.

Note: I haven’t realised this before but Japanese cuisine is either on the rise or has always been very popular over here in the states – at least in Louisiana anyway; I mean, there are literally 10+ places just here in Lafayette, all looking very genuine (this is not your average “China Garden” Buffet), with all the weeaboos working (bahaa).

That evening I took my sister to the Galleria Mall in Houston (being mall rats, the American past time), which had an indoor ice skating rink at the bottom floor. We walked around, catching up, and I took her to Hot Topic for the first time, reliving my long haired, ear bleedin’ years of my life. Embarrassingly enough, I kinda shop there, and my closet still has quiet a lot of black despite the hot weather down here..
The next day before we left, we stopped by a real Chinese restaurant for Dim Sum, something I haven’t had for almost a year. We spent at least 2 and a half hours in there talking and eating. My family complimented Charles on having the guts to try pretty much everything that was placed in front of him (everything but the chicken feet, that always seems to get people).
A few days later, my parents and my sister came down to Lafayette to visit the house and the kids. It was the first time they visited a ‘normal’ American city. Sure, they’ve been to New York and all the main cities in California, but this time it was their turn to experience the ‘normal’, mundane American life. It being so different, what was normal to me now was fascinating to them. Walmart was their fairground, Taco Bell was their misinterpretation of real Mexican food, and our medium is your extra-large. In a way it was good on my part ’cause I didn’t have to do much to amuse them. And besides, the main reason why they came was to see me, Amy and Sebastian anyway, so we spent spending a lot of good collective family time. Amy cooked them a nice homestyle crawfish etouffee for their first night here (if any of you had the money to come down to Louisiana, Amy’s cooking is definately something for you to experience!)
Amy’s parents took them to Baton Rouge (giving me and Amy a night to recover from school and parenting). They treated them to some real southern food and hospitality. They took them to a Cajun restaurant, which had a live band playing zydeco and a dancefloor in the middle (it was a good way to burn the kids’ calories and to get a stitch). Crawfish and alligator – just ask them how much they liked it!
The next day when they were back I Lafayette, I never realised how good of a tour guide I was when I showed them around the university campus – after all, they’re technically paying for it (ouchh). So, I showed them the quad, the swamp, and was driven around everywhere else. Conveniently, there’s a park on campus called Girard Park where Sebastian was able to burn off some energy. A lot of people bought their puppies to the park that day, and another example of Southern hospitality, we sat and talked to the owners for a good few minutes every time. Afterwards, I let Amy take my sister walk around the mall to find all the decent shops, going bargain shopping as one might say. So, me and my parents treated Sebastian to the coin operated rides, and took him to the Bear Factory (yes, we have it here too) and got him and Jasmine each a teddy bear.
The Cajuns have their on particular way of celebrating Easter – the night before we headed to Ville Platte to celebrate with Amy’s parents’ family, we had to dye eggs. Basically, they boil eggs and then dye them very bright, almost neon colours. The tradition is called “poc-poc” – basically, each person has an egg: one holds it upright below, and the other taps it from above; whoever’s egg is still intact is the winner and eats the other person’s egg. Needless to say, most people get sick of hard boiled eggs after Easter here. They had a big family barbeque, of which Amy’s uncle had been cooking since 8:30 in the morning. Lots of meat, lots of jambalaya, lots of conversion. After a while, me and Charles took them to Chico National Park to see the proper swamps (and not the stereotypical ones you see in the movies). Lots of walkways and piers, trying to find an alligator. Nevertheless the view was astonishing, and despite the blistering heat, apparently everywhere we went was a kodak moment.
So, the next two days, before my parents and my sister were to leave, we headed to New Orleans, the Paris of the South – I mean, you can’t come to Louisiana and not visit New Orleans. Whilst driving into the city, you could still see the water mark on the side of the walls from hurricane Katrina, and there are still pieces of debris lying around in abandoned open spaces, still red crosses and red numbers on the doors of the dead.
As ever, the architecture, the culture and the atmosphere is what is famous in the heart of New Orleans. Me and Amy’s family took them around New Orleans the best we could considering the small amount of time we had to spend there. Somehow, Charles was able to book a 4-5 star hotel for a very low rate, with an indoor fountain and a perfect replica of George Rodrigue’s cow with the blue-dog motif.
We found a fancy Cajun restaurant to dine in (of which the name escapes me). With the drinking law being fairly lenient down here, we were all able to order some famous southern alcoholic beverages – Louisiana Lemonade, real daiquaris, and their world famous Bloody Marys. Like the Chinese, them Cajuns are big on their food, and we ate ourselves silly: etouffe, seafood platters, baby-back ribs, roast peppered duck – you name it~
Afterwards, we babysat the kids for a little while whilst Amy’s mum took my parents to see New Orleans by the night life, away from any distractions with the kids; besides, it was getting late and the kids needed. She took them to the Riverwalk, walking by the boat lights and the stars and the night performers. They headed by one of the biggest casinos in New Orleans, just to show them the luxury and the richness. When they were about to leave, Amy’s mum came across a penny machine, as in a slot machine that only took 1¢ each time. Low and behold, all these lights and numbers went ballistic, and won the jackpot which was a over 100000¢, over $1000!
When they got back, me, Amy, Mike and my sister went to visit the ‘young’ nightlife of New Orleans (I put young in quotes because quite a lot of the time, people 50/60+ want to ‘feel alive’ again, heading to all the bars). We took my sister to Bourbon Street, introducing the famous ‘binge drinks’ – the Hurricane, the Grenade, the Chainsaw; and took her down the the street famous for their dance clubs, strip clubs and music bars. Bare in mind, it was a Monday night but things were still pretty alive. We called it a night after the last bar sold big novelty syringes that was filled with a vodka jello shot – after Amy taking a slight taste (and my sister more or less naively downing the whole thing), she noticed that it was laced with straight up codeine, and as soon as we figured that out we threw whatever was left away. As we were walking out, we noticed police beginning the walk inside. After passing by Pirate’s Alley and a nice stroll around Jackson Square in the early hours of the morning, and feeling older than we actually are, we headed back to the hotel to get a very few hours sleep (especially with my dad’s mammoth snoring).
When we awoke, we headed to the renowned French Market, selling all sorts of international goodies –wooden cravings, genuine instruments, metal work and clothes just shipped from Africa sold by Africans, real Asian clothing and household trinkets sold by Asians, et cetera. We hoped to have an expensive lunch at a posh restaurant on the way out of New Orleans, thanks to Amy’s mum’s new winnings, but Charles insisted on us having an ‘authentic Nawlins’ poboy at a common diner. It being way out of the centre of the city, it cost about just as much as a fancy lunch – $7 for hotdogs, seriously!
So just before we got ready to head home, word has it (by the Pilipino who sold us Sebastian’s first Chinese suit!) that there was a Chinese Market on the way out of town. Pulling into the plaza it was located at, stone statues of Chinese lions and cartoony monks gated the entrance. My parents went crazy buying boxes of cup noodles (anyone who has been to my house parties would remember the miscellaneous abalone cup noodles that was as big as your face), some morning bao-baos and various flavourings (pork concentrate anyone?). I’m pretty much set until me, Amy and Sebastian come down to England.
My mum should be arriving home about now, with her flight being delayed by the Icelandic volcano. She stayed an extra week to visit her brothers in California and in Canada, since my dad had work and my sister’s spring break finished. I hope you guys are all doing well, and I will be seeing you Brits in the summer. I will be giving you the actual dates in the next blog post so be sure to get those days off work. Discussing it with my family, we’ve decided that me, Amy and Sebastian will stay for two weeks – half of the week staying in King’s Lynn, rekindling old friendships, with my parents baby sitting for one night so we can take Amy around the town, and the other half of the week I think we’re going to Doncaster for a family reunion. The week after, my mum suggests, wants to book a Derbyshire cottage, for Sebastian to frolic and for us to enjoy the British countryside.
But yes, my next post shall be in may sometime in May after my finals. I shall call an end to my 3000+ word post and spare you the suffering of anymore sentence fragments and grammatical errors – as Amy says:
Let’s eat Grandma
Let’s eat, Grandma
Grammar, it saves lives.

Until then, kids~