I improved the design of this blog, specifically the layout of blog posts: date, location, metrics, footer, etc.
And when I looked out the window I saw a shirtless black man getting into a heated argument with a fire hydrant.
7pm: Ate Boneless Pork and Rice at India House Hostel. So good for just $5.
9pm - 2:30am: Went to French Street with the English
The Englishmen were underage. One had a fake, the other did not. We devised a master plan. When the waitress came over I would say, "I'll have a pitcher" and then turn and ask, "You're getting beer too, right?" And he'd say, "No, I'll just have water". It worked - she didn't ask for his ID. We toasted to the American Dream!
I found it hilarious whenever the band pointed to seemingly random people on the street to join them on stage to play and play awesomely indeed. That's when Prince appeared out of no where. When he finished with Purple Rain everyone was dancing.
One of the Aussie's kept shouting, "Prince is alive! Prince is alive!" and then bought a round of drinks for everyone from the hostel.
Afterwards I struck up a conversation with one of the female singers. She told me about how rewarding it was to be a musician down here because it's a lot easier to get gigs and hop on with other bands. She said there was even a record label agent in the audience tonight who asked for her contact information. On the flip side she said the culture is extremely misogynistic, for example, the drummer told her to shake her ass more. In order to keep the peace she had to playfully tell him to fuck off.
2:15am: Trolley Back to Hostel
While waiting for the trolley I glanced over and saw the shirtless black man sleeping on the bench, looking like he lost the argument with the fire hydrant. The Englishmen were concerned he wasn't breathing.