Cemetery pics

In between po' boys and milk punches, we found time for some culture in New Orleans: cemeteries. The one we really haunted was Lafayette No. 1, right across the street from Commander's Palace, the grand dame of Nola dining. (Where else would you find a garden of the dead near a schmancy eatery but New Orleans? This is why I love this town.) Herein a few blurry snaps:

I didn't know this last name was an option! From now on, I want to be known as Skaren North West Champagne.

 

  I dig this sweet little angel. Wonder if there are Hello Kitty graves in Japan. Just a thought.

Looks like someone added some seasonal cheer. Weird but successful.

Love this last name, but the fact it doesn't say "RIPP - RIP" is a missed opportunity in my book.

 Flowers, check. Saint statuette, check. Stuffed duck, check. 

I tried to steer the Turk toward Lafayette No. 2 and the Louis Armstrong cemeteries - which apparently are not super safe, especially when you're not with a tour group. We escaped unscathed but alas, no snaps.