You say mardi gras I say party gras

There is no better to get over wing bowl dissapoinment more than, friends, mardi gras, drinking before 11 am, and cajun food.  Being that drunk a hole on a float wearing a ridiculious costume sure adds to it.  Let me tell you, I was that drunk a hole.  It was a short weekend but I managed to cram a lot into it. Getting into nola @ 10:30 I was picked up by damon, mandy(damons wife), and katie(mandys best friend).  Damon is a friend I met on the eating circuit who’s dad runs the tucks parade( the one we would be riding in). He’s is also a professional wrestler.  Little did I know that they would go out on a limb to truly show me a good time and to experience all that mardi gras has to offer.  They have hearts that are typical of new orleaneans and of the city itself.  New orleans is by far my favorite city in the u.s.. It has balls and character, it seems like your favorite dive bar that has seen a few to many bar fights and drunk patrons vomiting on the floor.  Is that a bad thing? Hell no, my favorite bars are dives because they offer more than just a cold drink.  It seems everyone can find something in new orleans that talks to them and that they can relate to . To me it was the food, atmosphere, people, and getting hammered on hurricaines and hand grenades.  From the airport we headed straight to the parade that we would be working security at.  Can you imagine me con mohawk telling people to back away from the float? We had a few breakfast beers and I got help from a nice lady fixing my hair in a bar bathroom. “honey you need to add some more right here”.  Sleeping on a plane and using your mohawk as a pillow is uncomfortable and makes you look like a coked out sid vicious when you wake up.  Our duty was to make sure no one stopped the forward progress of the float and to help all of the float walkers retrieve beads and other throwaways from the float.  I took this duty seriously but when a giant 64 ounce water bottle of rum and coke was handed to me, I knew that it was going to be a good time.  It didn’t even faze me as I tipped my head back and inhaled a giant gulp of the concontion as I walked past a cop.  I was most impressed by the fact that all the floats had bathrooms on them.  That my friends is the sign of a true class and dedication to getting shitfaced at 10 in the morning.  I used the facilities and was pleasantly surprised to see that there was mardi gras themed toilet paper.  I did not get a chance to use it and could not tell you if it was double quilted or what but just the fact that it was there was enough for me.  I helped this one woman get all of her beads and thing off of the float and she would preceed to get me beers from people in the crowd.  My favorite part was convincing her to give beads to every police officer that we passed.  I watched in earnest as she danced up to one cop and was told to get lost as soon as she tried to put the beads on the cop.  She was successful with one cop though.  The parade was made all the more fun because a kick ass cajun/rock marching band belted out hank williams and other tunes all the while guzzlings old style right in front of us.  Nearing the end of the route I feared the inevible and snagged a sandwich(roast beef on rosemary foccacia) that was hidden on the float.  The only inevitable thing would be me peeing in one of the fake golden toilets on the float and then passing out standing up with my pants around my ankles.  The sandwich stuck and I was good to go.  From there we got a police escort in covertables to the staging area of the next parade.  I caught a few minutes of sleep as the wind ripped through my mohawk.  It was a spectacle as the cops would blaze past us going 80 on motorcyles and then cut of traffic on the highway causing a sweet completely open left lane for us to haul ass in.  Upon arrival it looked more like a staging area for war than one for a parade.  There were floats everywhere and  a ton of marching and drum core bands to keep troop spirits high and to lead us into battle.  They would pass the time by playing and trying to out do  each other.   My favorite was this drumcore group of mid teens.  They kicked so much more ass than everyone else, they had heart, soul, and some hiphop.  After eating some decent mall garbage pizza, i think it had every vegetable know to man as well as feta and sausage the drinking was to begin.  Although timid at first  I soon caught on and would get 3 or 4 beers in the on deck circle right by my place on the float.  The only rules on the float were that drinks needed to be in cups, and everyone needed to be in costumes that covered your face and  head. After getting a good buzz on and visiting with the other riders and using the on float bathroom a few times we took off.  The parade was a blur besides the rigorous workout of untangling beads and whipping them as hard as I could into the crowd.  I just remember making numerous trips to the giant ice chest hidden in the front of the float and pretending that all 4 of the beers were for other people.  I made them same face at buffets when I pretend I’m bringing back 6 plates for myself, wife and kids.  The other things I remember was that my mohawk and hat waged a war causing my hat to fall off every ten minutes or so.  (I shall post pictures soon)  Kids on their parents shoulders were my favorite target as well as the hot girls, I would make them come to the side of the float as I personally put the beads over there head.  The hardest part was deciding what to do when you got the expected tangled beads, do you untangle it or just throw a giant ball of beads into the crowd.  It’s almost like a giant tangled mess of christmas tree lights.  At the end of the line we jumped into a dixieland brand tourist bus and headed to the after party.  I vaguely remember putting all the beads I had set aside into my sweatshirt and trying to tie them into a hobo sack,  I was pleasantly surprised when I found it the next morning and it held.  I thought I could hang but I could only muster one or 2 more beers in the hour we spent there.  I was most exited about the breakfast they served.  Eggs, bacon, and biscuits and gravy.  These cajuns have it all figured out.  Seriously, after all that drinking I didn’t have a hint of hangover( which is rare for me).  And I’m a big supporter of anything with gravy on it.  I got to hang out with damon, his parents, katie and mandy.  They were some of the coolest and most down to earth people I have met.  After staying  up till 5 or 6 I slept and ate lunch with damon at copelands cheesecake bistro.  The fried ravioli with creamy/ brothy crayfish sauce was kick ass.  The gumbo was thick and rich, and the chicken poboy with bluecheese dipping sauce rocked my world.  The dessert could have been my favorite, cheesecake with praline and dulce de leche.  It was richer than hell which is exactly how I like it.  I took it all in with a few hurricaines.  You should never visit nola without having a hurricaine or hand grenade as well as a good cajun meal.  This was the perfect thing to round out my mardi gras/ wing bowl weekend.  I got on the plane and passed out.  The snowed delayed us so thankfully I didn’t have to watch my ass get beat in the superbowl halftime show.  This turned out to be a weekend that I wanted and needed.   It seems hanging out with a slightly older, wiser, and mature crowd like katie, damon, and mandy was all I needed to boost my happyness and confidence.  I can’t think of any other way to spend next years wing bowl/ mardi gras weekend besides repeating this same trip. Next year I’ll stay for fat tuesday.  I need to start drinking in a few hours to get ready for beattalica.

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