2/17/2007
Mardi Gras "Pretty Freaking Dull" at New Orleans Rest Home
Hoeffler longs for a better party
(New Orleans, LA) Erwin Hoeffler listened to the sales pitch from the tour rep at the Maison Hospitalière Rest Home with excitement, at least "as much excitement as an 84-year-old geezer like me can handle."
The reality of life in the assisted living facility, however, leaves much to be desired, according to Hoeffler. In particular, the new resident was disappointed with the Mardi Gras celebration held this weekend.
"The reason I left that dump up round Natchitoches way was that I was told things get 'pretty crazy' here during Mardi Gras," he said, shaking his head. "Their idea of 'fun' in this shithole is lime Jello on Thursdays, and I'm about to light my sheets on fire to see some action in this dried-up old mausoleum."
Hoeffler, whose recently-replaced hips necessitated his "life among the undead," said that he couldn't believe how "out of the loop" his fellow residents were.
"They passed out strings of beads, and I got pretty fired up about that," he said, showing National Nitwit reporters several strands he collected. "So I started yelling: 'SHOW US YOUR TITS! SHOW US YOUR TITS!' and they stuck me in the fucking timeout room."
Left: Story hour at Camp Dullsville no picnic for Hoeffler
Things are so dull at the Dauphine Street facility, said Hoeffler, that he's thinking of going AWOL to find some fun.
"We're so close to the French Quarter that I can almost smell the sweat from all those naked boobs," he said, looking longingly out his second-floor window. "I'll be goddamned if I'm going to spend what might be my last Mardi Gras watching reruns of the Golden Girls. Fuck me."
(New Orleans, LA) Erwin Hoeffler listened to the sales pitch from the tour rep at the Maison Hospitalière Rest Home with excitement, at least "as much excitement as an 84-year-old geezer like me can handle."
The reality of life in the assisted living facility, however, leaves much to be desired, according to Hoeffler. In particular, the new resident was disappointed with the Mardi Gras celebration held this weekend.
"The reason I left that dump up round Natchitoches way was that I was told things get 'pretty crazy' here during Mardi Gras," he said, shaking his head. "Their idea of 'fun' in this shithole is lime Jello on Thursdays, and I'm about to light my sheets on fire to see some action in this dried-up old mausoleum."
Hoeffler, whose recently-replaced hips necessitated his "life among the undead," said that he couldn't believe how "out of the loop" his fellow residents were.
"They passed out strings of beads, and I got pretty fired up about that," he said, showing National Nitwit reporters several strands he collected. "So I started yelling: 'SHOW US YOUR TITS! SHOW US YOUR TITS!' and they stuck me in the fucking timeout room."
Left: Story hour at Camp Dullsville no picnic for Hoeffler
Things are so dull at the Dauphine Street facility, said Hoeffler, that he's thinking of going AWOL to find some fun.
"We're so close to the French Quarter that I can almost smell the sweat from all those naked boobs," he said, looking longingly out his second-floor window. "I'll be goddamned if I'm going to spend what might be my last Mardi Gras watching reruns of the Golden Girls. Fuck me."
Labels: beads, French Quarter, Mardi Gras, New Orleans
Comments:
<< Home
Sounds like my Uncle who died a couple years ago. He was always trying to sneak out of the VA Hospital to go to the bar across the street. He told me that he would do anything to get out of that hellhole.
I know it's satire, but it is true in some cases.
I know it's satire, but it is true in some cases.
But, isn't there supposed to be only a hint of truth in satire?
Otherwise, they would call it the truth.
Post a Comment
Otherwise, they would call it the truth.
<< Home