Mardi Gras

For those with uneasy stomachs, I advise not to read on.

Now, let me tell a tale of great debauchery.  Gaines and I went to New Orleans for the Saturday night festivities the weekend before Fat Tuesday.  In anticipation for the official day of gluttony, we decided to celebrate in the fashion of whiskey and more whiskey.

We first encountered a part of the parade in the Garden district.  Many forms of contrast ensued with child-bearing, beer-drinking parents screaming for massive amounts of useless free items most likely made by children in Malaysia.  These items included not only beads, but also novelty footballs, plungers, squirt guns, and sunglasses.

As we walked down St. Charles Avenue towards Downtown, we encountered mostly the same type of setting with less children as we got closer to Bourbon street.  

Bourbon street was everything that I expected and everything I hate about America.  Unmatched amounts of consumption of many forms: alcohol, sex, religious extremism, etc.  Nonetheless, I was entertained by Gaines and my attempts to locate a place to pee on the street.  This task was accomplished by walking around until the whiskey made us feel comfortable enough to whizz on someone's front stoop.  At one point on Bourbon street a man with a fancy camera told two young women accompanied by a young man that he was "a photographer for a website."  The girls proceeded to expose themselves to him.  Creepy as shit.  At the point where the whiskey was beginning to take hold, a random man on the street offered Gaines a FREE Wendy's Chicken Sandwich, we started saying "Carpe Diem" everywhere we went, and Gaines bought another pint of whiskey.

We proceeded to walk all the way back to my car.  On the way back, we stopped at a Popeye's Chicken Shop with a very cranky manager and terrible chicken.  We jumped the parking lot fence and fell asleep in the volvo.  Thus ending the night of debauchery.  Gaines will soon follow with a much more brief and entertaining account of our endeavors.