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Happy Mardi Gras, or Baby’s Got Fat… Tuesday

We here at Blogosaurus Stampede would like to wish a very happy and joyous Mardi Gras to all of you out there in Interweb Land, and especially to any readers who live, or happen to be, in New Orleans right now. Or as the natives call it, “Naw’lins.” (If you’re a tourist, you might want to avoid saying this out loud. that shirt you’re wearing has already pegged you as an out-of-towner. No sense belaboring the point).

Yes, today is Fat Tuesday, which is the English translation of Mardi Gras, which is French. It marks, for Catholics, the transition from Epiphany to Ash Wednesday, a time in which Catholics can “go wild.” The English also call it Shrove Tuesday, which comes from the word “shrive” or “to confess sins and to ask and be given, absolution.” So France is celebrates the ingredient that gives food its rich and satisfying flavors, and the English are celebrating guilt. Score another one for the French.

The exact Tuesday of Mardi Gras can vary between early February and early March. It depends on when Easter is happening that year. See? Even Mardi Gras does what it wants on Mardi Gras. We love you Jesus, but let the resurrection wait while we dance and frolic a little, Ok?

It is the time in which you’re supposed to get your funky groove on and par-tay, as the young kids are calling it these days. It’s a day for costumes and masks, for drinking and drinking more. If one is an attractive woman, it is a day for liberating their breasts from the cruel oppression of shirts and bras. At least to judge by all the shouts of “Show us your tits!” one can hear in New Orleans, it is. However, you do get cheap beads for your efforts ladies, so that’s fair, right? Between breast-flashing there are also parades, dancing, and men showing what they’ve got as well.

I remember driving down to New Orleans with some friends one year. I know I was there because I can’t remember any of it in anything approaching linear order. I remember a straight-through drive down there, and I remember a lot of food, drink, breasts, alleyways used for a number of purposes, breasts, fine marijuana, some forgiving police officers (one of whom had breasts, but she didn’t show them and I wasn’t going to ask) and a long ride back home with many stops for sleeping. I also remember swearing off whiskey forever. Sazerac, you are a sweet and misleading drink. You told me I could do something in that alley that I’d never regret. You were right, but still.

On the more pleasant side of things, I remember the fried chicken and baked ham, the potato salad and the Packzi, the jambalaya and most of all, the King Cake, which, if I understand it correctly, comes with a little plastic baby Jesus inside its sugar-frosted, brioche-y goodness. That’s not just a chipped tooth, that’s a chipped truth for The Lord. Be sure to tell your dentist that. there are always pancakes for the less adventurous.

In conclusion, while I don’t advocate for drunkenness and semi-public sex, they did work for me quite well, with absolutely no regrets that I can coherently remember. Though, if you are in, or are heading down to, New Orleans for Mardi Gras, bring a camera along. It just might come in handy when you or your lawyer want to reconstruct events later on.

Karissa Gilham: Hot Chick du Jour

Filed under: Hot & Sexy,The Internet — Tags: , , , — Positronic Dave @ 2:42 am September 14, 2010

Wow, a lot of people are cyber-hungry for a slice of Karissa Gilham tonight. They’re practically leaving smoking scorch marks on google’s servers in their collective frenzy for something thathas that Karissa Gilham smell to it.

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