Fatty Rewind: The Red Dress Run Edition

fatty rewind red dress run edition

This weekend was fun. I drank. I ate. I dabbled.

By arseinclarse

This weekend was fun. I drank. I ate. I dabbled. I put on my 8 year old red dress to make the ladies and boys hot and bothered. My deadly combination of girth, wit and chest hair is invincible.

Friday after work, I had to pregame before dinner with the inlaws. I was home alone with the Beam, and Les was on television. Football season can’t get here fast enough. Les will be the greatest thing to happen at ESPN, since Drew Brees’ float commercial aired.


Around 7, the fam scooped me up. I was a few doubles in and decided to take one for the short road trip to El Pavo Real. When we were seated, we were given some complimentary popcorn. It was buttered and covered in cheese. It went well with the remnants of bourbon in my to-go cup.


For dinner, I decided to live it up and eat a ton, since Red Dress Run demands peak physical performance. A good dinner would allow my on the field skills to shine during game time.

Rule number one to being a superior athlete is remaining hydrated. I would skip the water and dive right into the pitchers of margaritas.


I went with starters of pico and guacamole. For my meal, I’d order the carnitas, a tamale, and the ceviche. The carnitas were great and tender. The tamale was solid for $4, and the mole it came with was delicious.


When dinner was finished, the in laws dropped us off at the house. The little lady would go to sleep. I needed to make sure I was good and rested. I had to get up around 5:30 to shower and head to the West Bank to grab some Chic-fil-A for the staff at Lafitte’s. To make sure I got good sleep, I polished off the fifth of Beam and passed out watching some shit about Princess Diana.


Before the sun rose, I was up and ready to roll. I showered and ran my errands. Around 7, I ordered an Uber for a lift to the Quarter. My driver gifted me with a Jello shot. It needed more booze in my opinion.


My baw lets me in the bar early to drink and to talk with him about life, before the doors open. Topics generally range from Chalmette women, food, the best brand of toilets, and dance moves. But all discussions are best over bourbon and biscuits. I probably ate eight of those little bastards.


Around 10, the crowd started to pick up and I was on double number 5. I don’t handle crowds too well, so I started planning my way back Uptown. As the bar crowd expanded, I made my way to the street. I ran into some other hooligans who were just arriving. That was my cue to get the fuck out.


The little lady scooped me up around 11 on Burgundy. She wanted to shop, so we headed to Magazine Street. After several purchases, I told her I need something to eat to fight the bourbon. We walked to Reginelli’s.

I grabbed some burrata and a supreme calzone. The burrata was delicious, but the calzone needed some work. Who dumps sauce on top of a calzone?


After lunch, I ran home to shower. I had to attend a pool party in Lakeview for a church friend. I brought my own Beam.

When we arrived, I smelled royal reds boiling. I was excited. They had 20 lbs delivered from Joe Patti’s. I went to town on them and the Beam. I also noticed that I was usually hovering around the artichoke balls.


The food was delicious. But the treat of the party was my can opener dive into the shallow end of the pool. I don’t know what drove the crowd more wild, my physique or the perfection of the splash. Even the North Koreans would have scored it above a 9. I hope my church friends can forgive me for being awesome.

After the party, the little lady wanted to keep the party going. I couldn’t blame her.

We decided to go drink on the water at Brisbi’s. The bar downstairs was packed, so we went upstairs on the deck. The breeze felt good, so we ordered some cocktails and some sides. I got some turtle soup and shrimp remoulade. Both were good, but I could have done without all of the fried green tomatoes.


After another round of drinks, we decided to head back uptown. When I got up, I realized that Red Dress Run isn’t for everyone. They had a few people passed out beneath us.


During the ride home, the lady declared that she wanted Pinkberry. I couldn’t argue with her. That shit is delicious. I ordered some chocolate flavor did up. It hit the spot before passing out around 830.


On Sunday, I got my ass up to go to church and praise the Lord. It was a good mass. After receiving the eucharist, I headed to Lafitte’s for a quick pick me up of Beam. Some patron brought us some beef and chicken to chew on. I had a drumstick and a thigh.


I left the bar at 11 to head to brunch at Cavan. The lady and I were meeting some friends.

They were running a coolinary brunch for $28. It was a no brainer. I didn’t see any cocktails which caught my eye so I ordered a few micheladas. They were good. I enjoyed the spice.


While looking over the menu, we ordered a dozen gulf oysters. They were small, but they were good. They also came with a watermelon mignonette.


For our meals, the lady and I would order the tomato toast, boudin balls, double stack, tuna poke tacos, key lime pie and chocolate cake. Whatever she didn’t finish would become mine.

The toast was very good. I would go back just for that. It was very simple but flavorful. I also enjoyed the balls.


The tacos were full of flavor but very small. Luckily the lady doesn’t eat fish, so I didn’t have to share with her.


The burger was also very good. It reminded me of a Big Mac and a burger from Bud’s. The char grilled patty was very nice, and I enjoyed the sauce lathering the meat.


The cake was delicious too. It was dense like a brownie and had some crunchy shit on it. It would satisfy any fat boy.



That meal put the beat down on me. I was exhausted. After getting home, I sat down and passed out for two hours.

The little lady got me up to go to the store. I made myself a Beam and went with her. I wasn’t very happy to by in the store, since I wasn’t hungry. I prefer to shop when I’m starving.

I grabbed a bird and some produce. I wanted to roast a chicken for dinner.

When I got home, I prepped the bird and made us some Moscow mules. There’s not much more fun cooking than shoving your fist into a chicken cavity.


While the bird cooked, I made grilled cheese for snacks. The more butter, the better.


It was a fun weekend. The city didn’t flood, and the booze flowed from Friday to Sunday night.

Stay fat, my friends.

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