Somehow, this picture of sun-bleached, dusty old boas symbolizes the tired aesthetic of the French Quarter's wanna be bimbettes-for-a-night. Don't get me wrong, (though thoroughly annoyed with these folks before the storm), I am fine with the boas. Whatever happens in Nola, stays...er, no. But seriously, I mean, whatever floats your boat. Tickle, tickle, tee-hee.
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