How can I explain this to people who probably say something like "marrdee grass"? HOW?! I think I've got it down to five words:

Alcohol. Beads. Parties. Boobs. Hangovers.

I didn't say they were five interesting or otherwise profound words, but they do sort of tie in to the whole gist of what I'm trying to say.

It seems like every five seconds there is some parade going on. And the Girls Gone Wild cameras just can't contain their excitement. I actually saw a video crew running down my street yesterday. I can barely look out the window of school without seeing somebody flashing somebody else.

I think that's the problem. We're in school, trying to get an education so we can be good little citizens, while the rest of the world is partying until they pass out or die from alcohol poisoning, and it makes us jealous. Therefore we are doing badly in school right now. That's right. The entire student body. Ggrrrr. It's too goddamn distracting.

So I went shopping the other day. And I'm just walking up and down this street, minding my own business...and unbenounced to me, there is a drunken mob of college students nearby. So it came as a bit of a shock when I was pelted from behind with a giant bundle of plastic beads and it knocked me face-first onto the concrete. And I shook my angry fist towards the sky and vowed revenge in the form of a nasty hangover the next day. I really hope they puked their guts up, because those beads hurt like a bitch.

Tomorrow I am actually in a parade. Don't ask me how this happened....I'm not 18 and not even close to 21. Yet somewhere along the line I fooled someone and here I am, riding on a float with two of my friends who I invited to tag along. The theme of the Krewe this year is quite clever...."Twisted Fairy Tales." So me and Sarah S. (Runs With Scissors) and Sarah a. are going as the three little pigs: AT&T, WorldCom, and Enron. Giant wads of money falling out of our clothes and us trying to stuff it back down our shirts...all while wearing pig snouts and generally looking like asses.

We made a pact that since we are the very definitions of "pansies," we decided to at least get a little tipsy before the parade. Because as we all know, the fun doesn't even really start until you're stoned/drunk/both.

It's almost disturbing that I am looking forward to getting drunk and pelting people in the head with beads and not even remembering it the next day.

That's the beauty of this holiday. They could practically base a whole fucking religion around it.

Not here, though. I mean, it's a huge deal, but it's not totally different from everyday life. Sure...there are drunken mobs of college students and flashers invading my space on a daily basis....but who says that's something other than normal? Remember, I live of the city of self-proclaimed Perpetual Mardi Gras. It's like that All.The.Fucking.Time.

This is how distracted I was during Bio today: I wrote an essay about how the Middle Easterners are probably just extremely pissed because they don't have Nikes. I mean, who wouldn't be pissed if they walked everywhere barefoot? And what if there was GLASS in the street or something?! Who knows! It could make for a giant homicidal uprising!

That's what President "I-Choke-On-Fucking-Pretzels" Bush needs to do. He just doesn't realize it yet. Send them all a new pair of running shoes and perhaps a Buick, and the world would be a better place for all of us. it's peaceful, and hey, they now have a civilized mode of trasportation that doesn't involve saddles! Woooohooooo!

Holy shit. This Mardi Gras thing is seriously affected my ability to think straight and act in a sane manner.

And you wonder why I don't update often.

Fo-sheezy.

_{"Fo-sheezy"? What the hell?! Where did that come from? Am I going INSANE or is that just the Coors talking?!?!}

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