We Are Rantasaurus Rex, Hear Us Roar

Dear Obnoxious Drunken Tourists,

Thank you for visiting my fair city. I appreciate the money you’re spending here. Here’s a few ground rules to help you not incur my wrath (and the wrath of others who live here)?

1. Please do not pee/spit/crap/eliminate other bodily fluids on the street or on residents’ porches. When I’m walking down the street and I have to step around your giant loogie, or watch you on the corner urinating on someone’s porch, it makes me angry.
2. Yes, you’re in New Orleans. Yes, it is awesome. Please stop screaming and “WOOO”ing at the top of your lungs in a residential neighborhood at 3 in the morning. People do live in the French Quarter, and they are sleeping. This is an effective way to catch a faceful of plant from the person who has a shrubbery on a second floor balcony.
3. Heterosexual men: Please do not assume that every woman on the street wants those cheap-ass beads hanging from your neck. Some of us are from here and could really care less about a 3 dollar set of beads. Also, just because a girl will not show you her boobs does not make her a “big fat d*ke”.
4. Women: You wouldn’t have to explain to your kids/parents/husbands/girlfriends why you’re on the Girls Gone Wild commercial if you didn’t flash your stuff. We know you want those beads around that dude’s neck so you could prove that you were on Bourbon Street, but how’s about buying a postcard or decorative plate instead? By the way, I suggest you not show the lower ladybits (or manbits) unless you want a one-way ticket to the closest jail cell.
5. Religious fanatics: We understand that you are here to spread the word of whatever deity you worship. That’s fine. However, please refrain from chasing people down the street, grabbing at their clothes, and screaming about how they’re going to burn in hell for all eternity because they’re in New Orleans. I don’t see you screaming that at the people who go to church on Sunday mornings, and they’re in New Orleans too. Oh, and as for that “God Hates F*gs” preacher guy? You’re not allowed here ever again.

If you stick to these rules, we’ll get along a lot better. If not, we’ll just have to come to your town and pee in your plants, scream at the tops of our lungs at 4 in the morning, harass people walking down the street, show our naughty bits to random passerby, and smack people over the heads with giant wooden crosses and assorted Chick Tracts.

Thanks,
Karen