What They Said

Dilly and Berto sum it up.

Merry Clinchmas!

Romo's Reveillon Dinner

Did You Dirty

And we stole your song.


h/t Red Cotton.

We Are Who We Think We Are

Hey, Roy Williams, pack an extra bag. Fill it with plenty of cotton. The decibel exchange rate from Death Star 100,000 to SacreDome 70,003 is not even. Not even close.

I wonder what you'll see, Roy, when you return home to the Dallas airport. When you're a Saint, Roy, this is what you see. Win or lose.

Anybody else wanna put their tv against the Saints?

Kevin Allman just earned my loyal readership with a level of investigative YouTube journalism that is equal parts disturbing and, well, funny.

A Worth Cause, A Worthy Fan

Yep. Cafe 641 is on board with the search. And when we find him, we will honor him with a dirty dog that will do justice to his indomitable spirit.

Cafe 641 N Sync

Denim & Diamonds, Section 641, Row 43, congratulates Pierre at Fed-Ex after the game, 5:04 p.m. eastern standard time.

Chef & Co., Section 641, Row 42, drop a Creed into Pierre's passenger-side window at the airport, 9:54 p.m., central standard time.

Destiny?

Roofbangers Creed

To be recited at airport tonight . . .

Thank you, Billy

Billy Miller says it better than most.

In honor of the AFC East Divisional Champs

Having already recognized the Saints' East Rutherford, NJ city title, Cafe 641 celebrated the team's AFC East Divisional Championship Monday night with an unprecedented five-man dirty dog. Enjoy.

It's Geaux Time!

So sez the Cylon:

Saints safety Darren Sharper, who has played in hostile environments like Green Bay and Minnesota during a stellar 13-year career, described the noise to New England media as "deafening."

"A guy could be pressing face masks with you," he said, "and you're yelling and he still can't hear you."

The Pasty Patriot Collection

Collect them all!

Who's your favorite Pasty Patriot?
The New England Ken Doll

Flashdance

Not Milk

Patty Cake, Patty Cake, 11-0!

Pictures come alive . . .

. . . you can dance right through your life. What a feeling! (I can really have it all.)


Pretty sure the above is the pop cultural Photoshopping genius of GMW, but this one was found on The Onion.

In other news, not much in the way of baked goods on Monday Night's menu, but still a few slots open. Send your Cafe 641 suggestions now and join Brady's (panties-in-a) Bundchen Munch and Bellichoke's Famous 4th Down DUMB-plings.

Happy Saints-giving!

T-Dex sez: “When you set yourself on fire, people love to come and see you burn.” (h/t john wesley)

The Sharper the knife . . .

If Cafe 641 employed a graphic artist, we'd show you a holiday scene that features this guy:

carving a turkey-version of this guy:

which would, in its final Photoshopped version, result in a Basted CryBrady's Bird, fully protected inside a referee sausage casing, which wouldn't look much tastier than this guy:

Happy Saints-giving from the Cafe!

12 oz. Curls for All His Girls

Bless you boys . . .

. . . for all the obvious 10 N.O. reasons, and for one more just discovered today. Due to the Saints historical 10th straight victory, Cafe 641 relocated to the airport instead of staying home to view this:



Bless you boys, indeed.

Hail Stache, 10-0!

Vigil Prayer Service at Moisant

St. Laurent, pray for us.

Cafe 641 will descend on MSY this evening to distribute prayer cards to the Blessed Boys and to display our collective 10-0 (as in the traditional hymn, "Black & Gold Super Bowl, let me see your 10 and 0. Your 10 and 0.")

Early drafts make reference to the New England Ken Dolls.

Bring your kids. And beer.

Let me see your 9-0!

Even when we fall down . . .



we get back up!

Fleur-de-lanthropy

Mother Mary reminds us that New Orleans' Second Harvest Food Bank stands to win after the Who Dat Nation wins this contest. Hmmm, hmmm, good.

The Death Star's Shadow

We already know about Jerry Jones' Napoleonic man muscle issues. But now, his Death Star is threatening to cast an Evil Empire shadow over the 1/2 of Shreveport that still considers itself part of Louisiana.

Who Dat Sam in Shreve-City has asked Cafe 641 to flex its undefeated muscle to make sure he gets to view the Saints on his television. Help a Who Dat in need:

"The Shreveport Fox channel is having a vote to decide which game to play on the 22nd. The rivalry between the Crygirls and the Bless You Boys is pretty intense here. Any votes the cafe and fellow Saints fan can through our way would be appreciated. It does require a user name to vote but you do not need to put a VALID email address since there is no verification. Here is the link."

I'll Cut a Cat

Skin the kitty that wrongs you.

Ride a Bike, Cut a Cat

Cafe 641 reminds its loyal Upper Terrace patrons to strap on their helmets for its Dash for the Dome bicycle pub crawl on Sunday. Here's the details:

Start: Mid-City Bulldog at 11 a.m. (depart by noon)

Stops: Mid-City Yacht Club, Finn McCool's, Handsome Willy's

End: Sacredome at 2:15 - 2:30 p.m.

And the Cut a Cat menu board is open. Not exactly an inspiring selection of players to feast on, but as Bigshot likes to say:

Black and Gold Super Bowl.

The Saints are gonna Tootsie Roll. Tootsie Roll.

Let me see that Super Bowl. Super Bowl.

Feeley's Feline Filet, anyone? Post menu suggestions here.

With apologies to real houswives . . .

It has come to the attention of the management of Cafe 641 that some women who call the city of Atlanta "home," and who may or may not dine at Applebee's, find a representation of their professional football team in the likeness of Real Houswives of Atlanta rubber chickens dressed smartly in two-piece, black & red cheerleader uniforms, with enhanced upper torsos, Barbie wigs, tiaras, and custom earrings to be an offensive, tasteless, and uneducated image.

To those women, the Chef would like to issue the following statement:

"Take your dirty bird back to the A T heL-to-the-no!"

As you might observe from the following images, there are plenty of professional, independent women who call the city of New Orleans "home" who find the same representation a thing of beauty.

professional woman

independent woman and "I'll cut a B**** woman"

music for every woman

two Real Housewives who know what it means to miss New Orleans

high on the Housewives

Housewife thief

dirty Dirty Bird

Kodak tastes Falcon

Perfect Housewife

This Cafe 641 experience made possible by the creative commitment of Carol, the designer of ATL Real Housewives, and Kodak, who won't stop Shootin' to Kill, to the Saints are sunning on South Beach in February.

In the Name of Buddy Dilly-Berto

Cotton Candy, sweet as gold.
Let me see your Marques Colllll-ston!
Your Marques Collllll-ston!

The Real Housewives of Atlanta

In an effort to clean up their dirty, dirty, the Falcons come to town tonight with a new slogan: "The Real Housewives of Atlanta."

Still tastes like chicken.

Matt Ryan Ready for New Orleans

Is this the Real Housewife of Atlanta?

Yes, indeed.

The Monosyllabic Spree

Wow.

Now I've got an insatiable appetite for stone crabs and silicone.

All Housewives Welcome

How do you celebrate the 4th-year anniversary of a Cafe formed on an evening of greatness?

We were thinking . . .

• Ladies night. (All the ladies in the Cafe receive complimentary mustaches. And yes, we color match.)
• Moustache Monday. (See above.)
• The Real Housewives of Atlanta. (Starring Matt Ryan, Tony Gonzales, and Michael Turner.)

And the menu suggestion board is open, wide open, and titled in tribute to the visiting filthy fowl of reality TV: "The REAL Housewives of Atlanta."

The Toothless Wildcat

So it's this version of the feline that has the undergarments of NFL defenses all contorted?

Bite me, wildcat.

thanks HammHawk.

As Seen on Television!

R.I.P. Billy Mays. If your closely groomed face sweater was still with us today, you'd stop talking about Quick Chop and Snuggie as soon as you were hit with one whiff. If you could smell what the Cafe has been cooking, you would carve a Fleur-de-Stache above your lip faster than an East Rutherford, NJ Discount Airliner.

Billy Mays, this is for you:

Cafe 641 Can o' Whoop Ass

Used in small quantities only

Another satisfied customer of Cafe 641 Can o' Whoop Ass

We Are New Orleans.

Can a Chef get a can opener?

Move.

Movement is a metaphor for this season.

Movement of the moobs.
Heed the warning, Tuna.

Movement under the influence
(of gridiron and denim greatness).

Movement on a perfect set of wheels.

3-0 begets 4-0.

Movement of the flavor-saver.
Dome foam, Shock my lips with your flavor.



Movement of the golden whisk.
1st down, Saints.



Movement under protection.

In the pocket and on the street, we are safe with thee, Fleur-de-Vespa.

The Cafe's next coordinated bicycle movement will commence at 11 a.m., November 8 at the Bulldog (Canal Blvd.) in advance of the Panther BBQ.

they MIGHT be giants. (but probably not)

Garden State Sweep

Talk of sweeping the state of New York on Sunday is a little misguided. Now, punishing the pride of East Rutherford, New Jersey twice in a month? That's doin' work.

Speaking of work, the Cafe 641 kitchen opened this morning for its game-week preparations . . .

A new golden kitchen utensil accompanied by synchronized dance-like motions?

A replacement whisk for the Cafe cougar?

Unsanitary cooking: the Porn Chef borrows the whisk.

Tom's Turn & Cough-lin Fingerling Potatoes?

The bye week has served us well. Livers are poised. St. Archie's spoiled loin fruit jokes loaded.

AND . . . the menu suggestion board is open:

Do It.

Opening verse. Yes indeed.
3:24 mark. Yes indeed.
5-0? Yes indeed.

Did you Dirty, Sanchez.

It wasn't enough that we sprayed down the Cafe with Fe-Brees before the game to keep the aroma of a Dirty Sanchez out of our section. He still felt the need to get dirty:



And once you get dirty, it's only a matter of time before you get noticed by an aging cannon with loose bowels:



Alejandro's got the first-person account.

J - E - T - S Suck! Suck! Suck!