In other news it's Mardi Gras. Ahh, Mardi Gras. I've lived through a few of them and they are fun, although the actual weekend of it is more of a "survived" than a "lived through". That's what happens when tourists converge on the town with the sole purpose of using it as a public restroom.
Random happy Mardi Gras memories:
Dancing with a lieutenant who pulled me out of the crowd at a Rex parade.
Flashing for beads. Well, on multiple occasions (ahem) but one time at a Tuck's parade when they lobbed a huge set at me (natch ;) ), some little shit jumped in between me and the beads and snatched them, and the guys on the float made him give them back. Only fitting since I earned them ;)
Mystic Krewe of Barkus. All years, all formations. Although the Cruella DeVil drag queen and her dalmatians is a fav.
Krewe D'Etat. No king, just a dictator, Plus the cool flashy medallions.
King Cake. 'Cause... well.
Being driven insane by hearing
Mardi Gras mambo mambo mambo... over and over again.
Catching a parade every night.
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cin1607 making two frat guys kiss.
Picking out the tourists as the idiots who wear
all of their beads.
Picking out
dumber tourists as the dipshits who
buy beads during Mardi Gras.
Ground scores.
Don't look up, it's too painful.
The old streetcar that would clear the tracks.
Walking home every night, even from all the way downtown.
Managing to get through the French Quarter.
The frat guys who were smart enough to get a couch from Goodwill and set it up on St. Charles as their base of operations.
Being brave enough to chance the PortA Potties.
"The cop cars are coming. That's a good sign."
"Lighten up! It's Mardi Gras!" [SLAP]
The happy, happy knowledge that at 11:59pm, Bourbon Street is filled with all the obnoxious assholes who pissed you off... and who have no idea that the cops are about to turn the hoses on them.
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