New Toulouse

Dear Madam,

As I was wandering pensively through the cemetery, waiting for the moon to rise, I heard distant sounds of revelry. On the rooftops above Basin Street I beheld a motley, masked crew. They were dancing to the most marvelous Cajun music, provided by a gentleman I later learned was called DJ Tabasco.

Sadly I was called to Bayou on pressing business so could not join the revelers, but there is another chance to enjoy the fun, as Krewe Bayou asked Mr. Tabasco back for a repeat performance: this time at the Green-Eyed Fairy. I spoke to Miss Frannie, who runs this establishment, and she said, “We’ll be getting hot, saucy, and green at the Green-Eyed Fairy with DJ Tabasco on Sunday, 25 January 2015 at 12.00 noon, and we’ll party like it’s 1915!”

She then added, most cryptically, “Be there or be ketchup!”

Regrettably I shall again be absent on business, but I urge my fellow-citzens not to miss the party.

Yours, etc.
Lou Carew

The Krewe Bayou rooftop ball, Gloryville, this past Sunday

NW: Well, there may or may not be actual kraken in the gumbo.
HG: And then there’s always the question, after you’ve fed five hundred people, what do you do with the rest of the kraken?
ZZ: Open a restaurant chain selling kraken-based products?

(Baby kraken friends are distributed.)
SH: Ooo. Octopus child. This is going to be hard to explain away.
KK: Thanks for taking them off my hands! They have been keeping me up all night!

NW: 39-inch-tall Charles Sherwood was better known by what name?
FA: Lofty.

AT: Can’t believe how strong these buildings are, strong enough for twenty dancing people.
NW: Hey, this building has been through hurricanes, and the Fat Tony incident.
LV: Fat Tony?
AT: Oh, please tell.
NW: We must get on with the trivia, she said, covering for the fact that she just now made up Fat Tony.

NW: What is a baby oyster called?
LV: Glen.

NW: What does a grabatologist collect?
LV: Crabs?
IT: Derrieres?
TF: Garbage.
SH: Perverts?
HP: Grabby hands!
FA: Tape recordings.
NW: All good answers, all completely wrong!
SH: Which one was less wrong?

This morning I woke up to a piece of paper hitting me in the face. I’m still staying at the rooftop hotel, so I suppose that is not the worst thing that could have hit me. Groggily I peered at the page: it was a handbill advertising a maybe-party this Sunday, hosted by Krewe Bayou.

Last year around this time, I asked the shadowy figure calling herself Queen Notakraken how a person might join the krewe, if he were so inclined. You are already in Krewe Bayou, she told me. Everyone is in Krewe Bayou, whether they know it or not.

You would think that as a member of the krewe, I would have heard about this party earlier, or whether we’ll parade, or what. You would think that, and you would be wrong.

So all I have to go on are whispers, and this poster, and what looks to be party decorations on the roof next door. They say that Ghosty Kips had to cancel on spinning the platters because of a family matter, and that the mysterious “DJ Tabasco” stepped in handily to save the day with his collection of Cajun, zydeco, and swamp pop recordings. (They don’t say what “swamp pop” is, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Okra-Cola.) They say that there will be plenty of beer, which will come in handy in case of fire. They murmur of a trivia contest with “fabulous prizes.” And I overheard a rumor to the effect that “everyone gets a baby kraken friend.”

Now you know everything I do.

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Jack Mondieu, Ace Reporter, is often perplexed.

This old bird has seen many a Carnival season begin in this town. Barely have people recovered from Christmas when Twelfth Night, the beginning of Carnival, arrives. For some, it is when krewes of the city formally announce their plans for parties and dances. For some, it is when people meet to start said Mardi Gras krewes. And for others, it is simply an excuse to break out the Mardi Gras costumes and begin a long, hard season of feasting and festing, which of course culminates in that fat old Tuesday before Lent, also known as Mardi Gras.

This Twelfth Night, there is a special twist, and the culprit seems to be Dr. Avalon, along with a new partner in crime, Blake Palmer. Apparently that esteemed businessman has decided that his new castle, Gloryville Manor, will be the home for a Twelfth Night party, hosted by Dr. Avalon, she of the sea of liquor. Now, this old bird has survived many a party, but frankly, putting together two of the more “talented” people will either be like a chariot to Seventh Heaven or a highway to Perdition! DJ K3W, of air race fame and infamy, will be playing music ranging from electro-swing to zydeco. This old bird has survived a few Twelfth Nights, but she will be poking her big beak into this one, especially as dignitaries from throughout the Steamlands will attend. Let’s hope that Mondragon admiral Waydelich does not do too much damage, though the fact he requested the zydeco makes this bird molt a bit.

Twelfth Night Party
Monday, January 5
6:00 PM “till Blake is exhausted”
Gloryville Manor
Costumes encouraged

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Avis Picayune is a tough old bird that has survived many a Carnival.

Surrealists gathered in Spiegel Hall Saturday to celebrate the first annual Surrealist Ball, sponsored by the Krewe of Bast. Guests arriving were announced by the Great Big Eye at the entrance shouting, “Has anybody seen my gal?”

Krewe members had transformed the auditorium into a phantasmagorical tableau in which the attendees in fantastical garb cavorted, engaged in wordplay, and sampled from the extraordinary buffet provided by Kristine Jinx-Kristan. The food, while often inedible, was often quite audible; for example, an amuse-bouche called “Two Matches. One New, One Burned. Garnished with Mint,” said when prompted, “The sisters of St. Cathode ask that you cover yourself with filaments and take pains to make yourself fully incandescent this evening.”

By popular demand, the decorations will remain up for the coming week, and persons wishing to take home the buffet may do so by consulting the poster on the table.

Nikita Weymann led a game of Exquisite Corpse, asking individuals for words. “And then,” she said, “I will glue them all together and feed them to a snail.” Game participants were Alterego Mee, RMarie Beedit, Kristine Jinx-Kristan, Liza Veliz, Gamaliel, Dr. Avalon, Francesca Alva, Crispin Sturges, Harley Mihnea, Carter Denja, Ghosty Kips, Eilidh McCullough, Maggie Hawksby, Pazzo Pestana, and Gragarth, who together produced the following three sentences, each contained in a snail that is still obtainable in the Spiegel Hall auditorium:

The oblivious feather hungrily leaned the laggy tea.

The attenuated friction fetidly confabulated the crumbly antimacassar.

The ugsome pineapple mindlessly wobbled the delicious elbow.

DJ Ghosty Kips supplied a gloriously madcap set of meticulously mapped-out music to the cheering congregation. “Please hold your tomatoes,” he entreated, warning of an upcoming song. “Hold your friend’s tomatoes if necessary.” At least two persons metamorphosed into the delicious nightshade fruit in response.

“Oh no, I spent half an hour getting dressed,” said Ohdearme Ohmai. “I’m not changing into a tomato yet.”

Photo credits: Kristine Jinx-Kristan, Henri Godenot.

See more photos here and here.

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A. Flyonthewall is rarely this loquacious.

It was a busy extended weekend with the twin holidays of Midsummer, the longest day of the year, and St. John’s Eve, New Toulouse’s biggest fete of the year.
Midsummer and all of its mischief were welcomed in this year by a Midsummer Night’s Scream masquerade ball. The ball was organized by Miz Arijah Ankh Khalid-Zyn and yours truly, and the theme this year was “Vampires and Fairies,” which pretty much meant all magical creatures were welcome.

New Toulouse turned out in its dark and glimmering finery and tore it up with DJ Gamaliel of Dance With the Dead Radio, who was generous enough to have the revelers donate to the Gumbo Society instead of his own coffers by way of traditional tips.

Miz Ari draped New Toulouse’s Spiegel Hall in black and green regalia and provided delicious traditional food. She included the recipe for each dish, so one could recreate the enchanted morsels easily in one’s own Unseelie-free kitchen. I provided the booze and had some O-negative on hand for the translucent and thirsty vamps who showed up. We didn’t want them eating the fae, after all.

Nearly L$2,500 was raised for the Gumbo Society, making Gumbo, the society’s mascot, one happy donkey.

St. John’s Eve, organized by Miss Maggie Hawksby and Miss Tilda Brown, was also a huge success.

The bayou was all dressed up in tradition so powerful that many of the mighty loa slipped into corporeal splendor to dance with the partiers. Baron Samedi, Papa Legba, and Mama Oshun were among the divine attendees, and they mixed it up famously with the many residents of New Toulouse, as everyone danced to the splendid spinning of Holocluck Henly and his psychedelic shades.

Dancing around the bonfire to goatskin drums and zydeco beats was a glorious way to celebrate this most sacred night, and while not present in the flesh, the very essence of Marie Laveau was there leading the revelry and celebrating with her beloved loa.

The night sky was resplendent as the merrymakers spun beneath the celestial umbrella.

For more images of both events, visit Miss Maggie’s photo albums:

• Midsummer Night’s Scream
• St. John’s Eve Celebration

It is safe to say that summer and all of its mischief are well and truly here. Enjoy the season!

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Salome Starsmith is the owner and manager of the Severed Head pub in New Toulouse and lives on the bayou in a tall, stilted house with her dog Edouard, hoping zombies cannot climb stairs.

Sister Butta threw a housewarming party for Trolley Trollop in the Red Drum courtyard to celebrate Trolley’s new digs at Red Drum Place. The music was provided by La Freese, and the party theme was flappers—flappers with bananas. They were there to lure the Tunnel Man. The bananas were. Well, all of us were.

And it worked! Kristine Jinx-Kristan spotted him in a cupboard under the bar. He wanted bananas and drinks. Then he climbed up in the kraken chandelier, and then he realized he was afraid of heights.

How exciting! Most of us had never seen him. He looked like a monkey, and he acted like a monkey. Could this really be Tunnel Man?

Poppy Valentine suggested, “Maybe we should put out two cages. One with a banana and one with a dark-haired girl. And see what he chooses.”

Then they all stared at me. I refused to get into a cage.

I feel sorry for the poor little fellow. Edward Ramsey has been talking about tar and feathers. Doctor Avalon wants to lobotomize him, like she wants to do with our cool reporter Jack Mondieu.

I hope I made everyone feel uncomfortable about their behavior when I asked them if this was a lynch mob. Shouldn’t everyone get a fair trial before getting lobotomized?

If the mob hands him over to Doctor Avalon, I will call the NTSPCA for sure.

So it seems the monkey, now called “Tunnel Monkey,” is still around. And someone is leaving banana peels all over town. Be careful, they are quite slippery.

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Photos courtesy of Ms. Sister Butta, Ms. Arijah Ankh Khalid-Zyn, and Ms. Liza Veliz.

Liza Veliz, being a ghost, has no fear of Tunnel Man or Beast and loves everyone and everything.

Krewe Bayou took the Mama Cree on a trip around the world Saturday without leaving the Missedabracket. The krewe rented the riverboat for a Gumbo Society fundraiser with music, dancing, trivia, prizes, and more.

DJ Carter Denja kept the crowd on its feet with a set composed of international covers of well-known tunes—the more obscure, the better. Miss Nikita Weymann presided over a spring-themed trivia contest that covered topics from fine art to animal anatomy (really), with cash prizes awarded to everyone who correctly answered a question.

Mama herself got dressed up for the party—members of the krewe decorated the boat with flowers, lanterns, lights, and banners. There was a full bar on the top deck, and a buffet table with delicious shrimp gumbo in honor of the Gumbo Society. 

The night ended with a spectacular fireworks display provided by Miss Karima Hoisan, and the last revelers were seen shooting flares off the deck long after the party had ended.

The final tally raised for the Gumbo Society is not complete—the riverboat decorations and the donation kiosk on the middle deck will be up all week for residents who missed the festivities and would like to contribute. Gumbo Society donations benefit the RL Second Harvest Food Bank of New Orleans. For more information, visit the Second Harvest website.

Krewe Bayou will be hosting more events between now and next year’s Mardi Gras parade. Other krewes interested in renting the Mama Cree for parties, fundraisers, recruiting drives, or other shenanigans can contact Yvonne Follet at .

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Photos courtesy of Miss Maggie Hawksby.

Jane Moreaux keeps all four eyes on New Toulouse.

On the surface, the most recent theme party at Eloquent Elysium was a stunningly elegant affair. But rumors have been circulating that hostess Bianca Solderini—or at least some of her guests—used the occasion as a forum for civil disobedience.

As usual, Miss Solderini put together a stunning presentation, transforming the roof of the Elysium into a charming garden, where New Toulouse residents and guests danced in elegant attire and sipped expensive tea with their pinkies extended.

Karima Hoisan, who was relaxing in the garden after another successful event at her own establishment, Kari’s Bar and Dance, said, “Everyone knows that’s the whole point of a high tea—to admire everyone’s outfits and gossip about the people who aren’t there.”

One such absence was that of Mayor Henri Godenot, who wrote a scathing letter to the editor after last week’s party. Mayor Godenot accused the Elysium of violating the parish’s public nudity ordinances after hearing that the previous week’s soiree involved a hot tub on the roof of the bar, and he berated the Tattler for not publishing any photos of the event. (Mayor Godenot clearly has never seen what happens to a camera lens when it gets too close to a hot tub … or to certain city officials in bathing costume.)

Shockingly, some sources say violations of the nudity ordinance were committed at the tea in protest of the mayor’s accusations. But no photographic evidence has surfaced, and one person who wished to remain unnamed said the rumor was started by someone who “drinks too much absinthe, even for New Toulouse.”

But at least one act of defiance was caught on camera: a guest at the party was wearing a backless gown, revealing a provocative tattoo of a creature that the mayor has insisted does not exist.

The theme for Eloquent Elysium’s next party at 4:00 PM Sunday is “Arabian Nights.” There is no word so far on whether any unofficial goading of the mayor will be part of the agenda.

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Jane Moreaux keeps all four eyes on New Toulouse. Photos courtesy of Miss Maggie Hawksby.