MARDI BLOG!!!!

Okay, it's the blog you've all been waiting for. Before I go on talkin about my adventures with Mardi Gras, I'll explain it to those who are so far lost from the concept...


Mardi Gras is... basically the celebration of sin? Bwahah, I mean seriously! Ash Wednesday, as most are aware, is a Catholic thing- the Wednesday that starts the 40 days of Lent- a fasting for Catholics. The Tuesday before is referred to as Fat Tuesday. That's the day where most would get all there sins out there- do their worsts before fasting and giving up certain things for the 40 days. Well, Mardi Gras in the south has been made into this big tradition of parades, cake, sexy music, and lots of other sinful sinful things.

There's more to it than that I guess, but you get the gist.

SO- There are these parades that go on for weeks or whatever. People in the city get together making floats that represent their casinos, bars, organizations, and businesses, and whatever else have you.  Let's go over the wonderful things you can get in a parade. My pardons if I forget anything (to those that even know what I'm talking about)

Beads- the most common. Necklaces that EVERYONE gets!
Specialty beads- these are bawlin. Everone wants them, few get them. From ornament-sized beads, to Jager brand beads, to beads with music notes or sea horses on them, they're keepers!
Moon pie- or King cakes, are little soft cookie cakes with marshmellow in the middle. They've gotten smaller over the years and the ones this year even had a calorie count on them, which if you ask me, defeats their purpose. That whole gluttony thing and what not...
Spear- SPEARS MAN!! BAMBOO SPEARS!! Ones you impale whales with? With the traditional Mardi Gras colours-gold, green, and purple. No. Not damn blue, or pink, or whatever the hell you damn northerners make it out to be. Usually you really gotta stand out in a crowd to get one- like stand on someone's shoulders or flash someone. Fact.
Stuffed Animals- enough said. All kinds. Gotta do special tricks for these ;)
Garter belt/panties- yes. yes they do throw panties. No idea what you gotta do to get em.
paper flowers- you gotta give kisses to get these! usually decent to shabby looking men carrying large boquetttes of them, and you'll know who has the most kisses because women that love these flowers love to wear the lipsticks to put proof on the men they earned it! (like yours truly)
Coins- They make an awesome collection of bragging rights if you can get enough of them! Coloured coins usually in the traditional colours. Sometimes made specifically for businesses.
Cups- my family never had to buy cups for the kitchen until we moved north. Fill your cabinets!
There's a million other little quirky items like bouncy balls, snake whistles, and candies that you can get, but I think I covered the major ones.

Okay, so my first outting of Mardi Gras parades, I took my neighbour and her husband. They're from West Virginia and had never been to a parade. Were they in for a treat! For starters, we went to Gulfport. It was one of the smaller parades, but it didn't disappoint! Mostly we caught beads, some masks, some stuffed animals- just some small ones, nothing we had to get crazy for- and we called it a day.

We rested up until Fat Tuesday and this time it was just me and the little lady. I was super excited, seeing as how this one was to be four blocks from our apartments. Didn't have to worry about parking or anything, just walk there.

We set out at about one because that was when it was scheduled to start. Since we weren't heading toward the beginning of the path the parade takes, I assumed we had plenty of time.  I was right- but we had soooooo much extra time! Got there about ten after one, it was raining, we were freezing, sopping wet, and tired of waiting by the time the parade got to us. It was delayed due to the weather and started when the rain died down. Got to us at about... 3:00pm? Something like that. But proved very quickly to be well worth it!

Crowds of people lined the streets- some in their Mardi colours, some in extravagant ball dresses, others in... well, much like what a sleezy hooker would wear. We went to a corner that was really bare of people. We knew why- it didn't have the shelter from the rain of any business roof. Like I cared about the rain. I knew if I wanted something awesome from the parade, it was best to be alone on the sidewalk anyway. To our left, a family from New York. Our right, some rather large dude in a bikini made for someone who would wear an extra small.
Epic.

When we heard the high school marching band coming around, I whipped out my secret weapon- my sign. On it, in bright bold letters for every word it read:

                   FROM MONTANA! WILL NOT LEAVE WITHOUT A SPEAR!!

Because that was my goal for this year. For years I thought about that damn spear. Such pride with such a piece of .... whatever. I wanted one damnit. I was determined.

My neighbour was a little standoff-ish to the thought of the parades. She's kinda a shy gal, and screaming isn't really her forte. Little did we know, Mardi Gras would soon change this for her...

I'll sum it up, in no chronological order, we got some awesome shit. People loved the sign and if they didn't have a spear to throw at me, they made up for it with something equally as awesome.


You might also want to keep in mind, through this whole process, I did not once flash anyone. Not at all. Which I might say is a miracle.

Not only did I get a spear... I got seven. SEVEN. Three or four stuffed animals, a handful of moonpies, coins for days, five cups, bouncy balls, and beads for days! Beads up the ass! We were the only two on the street that had so man beads we filled our bag, our necks, and people kept throwing them at us! CHUCKING THEM! People on the floats were cheering for us because we were accumulating such a pile! I kissed a few men for roses, but I'd done that even as a child. It was my neighbour who got her flower- cherry popped at this parade.

But I wasn't even the crazy one! I was just holding a sign and screaming louder than ... well, those of you that know me know how loud I get. But her- SHE- was all kinds of fired up! I was impressed!! This little five nothing brunette was racking up all the points! She even got a necklace of the big beads- the BIG ones! You know those traditional round ornaments that go on Christmas trees? The big round shiny ones? Imagine that in Mardi colours as a necklace. YES. She got THOSE big ones!

Not only that, but to get another rose, she hopped over the barricade that keeps in the people to go to a float and kiss a guy. But not just any kiss- no. When that hunk's lips met hers, the crowd cheered as he clung on for some tongue action! 

Then another spear was offered to me- over the barricade I ran! We were getting all kinds of crazy and all anyone that saw could do was smile and applaud.

On one float I actually knew someone- or recognized him anyway. Some hottie that I met while he was staying at my workplace. I was the clean-up crew and he offered to help. Offered me a beer and some small talk. I couldn't take the drink offer, because I was a good worker, but when he was passing by on that float I yelled "You owe me!!" And he threw me some specialty beads with a wink and blew a kiss.

The best part about the whole experience? I threw a big enough hissy fit and screamed, danced, jumped up and down so crazy- I got someone to throw a giraffe at me. Yes. My very own Mardi Gras giraffe. Tell me a story better than that one? Tell me a story more perfect! You can't.

Some other things we got were some feather boas, mug holders, frisbies- lots of little wins. Walking home with all that, I thought I would die! ten pounds of beads on your shoulders plus maybe another thirty or fourty in a giant bag with seven spears?! We had a good Fat tuesday. Nej. We had a fantastic Fat Tuesday.

We dispursed, I passed out, five hours later went to work. So much win. So exhausting.

To end this segment I will say- if only ONCE in your life, it is totally worth going to Mardi Gras. Next year I plan on going to New Orleans, the king town of flashers and kissers. It fell through this year because I didn't know the area to well and my guild ended up not going. Meet y'all next year :)

The Preference of Donuts to Mayonnaise

This last weekend was the last weekend of one of my airmen. See, I live a block away from the airforce base, and airmen get filtered through my house often, and monthly, it would seem. It was a regular weekend- Party on a friday night, recovery and sleep on Saturday, movies that night or more party, and leave to go back to base on Sunday afternoon for curfew.

This weekend, however, made a turn we didn't see coming. Truth be told, we have no idea how it came. Okay maybe we do, but saying we didn't just makes it all mysterious and shit. Whatever. Read.

So it was a Saturday. We'd been watching the movies I rented from Blockbuster that evening because we didn't get a chance to watch them the previous night.  Luckily, we got them all watched before ten, so I thought I might go return them. The suggestion of even moving from the couch was enough to get the other three up- Miss, Skit, and Alaska.

So we set off, Skit driving, Miss in the passenget seat, Alaska and I in the back. Yes. Yes the seating arrangement is important. You will see why.

We dropped off the movies at Blockbuster, and seeing the Whataburger across the street, the men were hungry and went through the drivethru. I don't eat all that lovely meat business so some delicious fries and onion rings were all I wanted.

Now, before I go into this next part, I need all readers to understand- I can't eat fries without fry sauce. What is fry sauce you ask? Well, for my Northerners there's no explanation needed. For all the other non-freakish people of the world, it is a delicious combination of Mayo and Ketchup. I know. I'm not much of a Mayo person myself, but damn. It's so... mmm.

When we get to the drive through the gal asks us if we need any Ketchup or anything for our food.

Back up. I am hyper as hell. I work a grave shift. I haven't slept all day. At this point, I work in a couple hours. I get super bubbly and crazy and giggly when I'm sleep deprived. It's amazing and I do it often. Deal with it.

*FAST FORWARD*
So at the drivethru, I'm already giggling my ass off about.. I dunno, some story I was telling where my mum throws a phonebook at my brother. Hell if I know. I don't even think I got to the end of the story before I was crying of hysteria.

When the gal is passing food through the window, Skit tells her, "It's the meds she's on..." The gal cracks up and that's when she asks if we need condiments. In a very deep man-voice, and very loud, I bellow, "MAYYYOOOONNNNAAIIIIIISEE" The car load loses it and we get some wide-eyed looks from the people inside.

We're driving back to my place, and have to cross a freeway/bridge to get there. There's a stop light we have to wait at before crossing. We're in the right lane, and in the left and a car forward there is a po po. Me and Alaska are still going off about the MAYONNAISE incident, we're loud, the windows are down, the music is bumping. Having just a good time, right? Can't get pulled over for that shit, right?

Wrong. So wrong. We're all wrong. You're wrong.

The light turns green, and not even two minutes later, the jacksquat is behind us, flashing his cherries and berries.

You've got to be kidding me.

"Thanks, Ging" is all Skit has to say. Just so you caught that in the beginning- I'm not even the one driving!! I'm not even in the passenger seat!! Me and Alaska are in the fucking back, but we totally know why we're being pulled over.

Of course, Skit gets asked to step out of the vehicle, seeing as how we're on the freeway and the jacksquat probably doesn't want to get his ass ran off. From the car we hear muffled parts of the conversation. It was totally about the crazy bitch in the back seat yelling, and apparently that's a problem. As per routine, Skits gets asked if he is drunk, gets brethalized, no big deal.

He comes to my door. I open it and step out.

Before you read this, know that I already have a problem with this guy - I've little to no respect for police in the first place, but I can already tell, if I wasn't with a bunch of airmen, I would run my mouth.

I'm praying to Jesus at this point, Lord please don't let me pop off, these airmen need their future...

He takes me off to the side,"What was all that hootin and hollerin I heard from you at the stop light?"
I immediately start smiling- no remorse from this gal, "Mayonnaise."
He looks at me like I'm blitzed out of my mind.
"What? we got some Whataburger in the car with some Mayonnaise, I find that exciting."
"Ma'am, have to been drinking tonight?" I see the cocky scowl on his face.
"Yes sir I have been."

Back up. You must know, it's 10:30, 10:45 at night by this time. I have no idea how long alcohol stays in your system, but the last time I had a drink that day was at 5:00 or 7:00. I said yes because I'm old enough to drink and if he breathalized me, no big deal. Not driving. I'm of age. 

So I just said yes for those purposes. I had a damn Vodka and sprite. A half of one. No way I'm drunk five friggin hours later.

"How much you think you had tonight? Three? Four?" He asks.
"Not even. Like a half."
"Excuse me?"
"Of sprite and Vodka. You should try it sometime. Delicious."
"Date of birth?"
I tell him.
"Got an ID on you?"
"No."
"Well why not?"
"Because I'm not driving?" I look at him like he's a friggin moron. Because he is. We just wanted to return some movies. Get some food. Why the hell would I bring my ID with me for that? It's a hop, skip, and a jump away for titty's sake.
"So how am I supposed to know if you're of age or not?"
Oh lord, girl please hold your tongue...
"Look, you can put my ass in the back of that cop car and haul me to my apartment and I will gladly show you my ID." I just stare him down for a minute. He stares back.
"Where you work?"
"IP." I point to the giant ass building behind him.
"Where you live?"
I rattle off the street, he confirms the apartments and I tell him we're headed there.

He's asking me these personal questions because he asked Skit why I was being all cray-cray and where we were headed. His response to the po po was that I was majorly sleep deprived and hadn't slept that day and had work that evening.

Good man.

He walks away from me- no brethalyzer- and goes to Miss's door; passenger. Takes her aside. Not before being a total creeper and reaching for her knife at her side without even telling her what he was doing.

Skit and I were both about to jump this man. We protect our women.

I watch him question her.
"Ma'am, have you had anything to drink tonight."
"No." she says.
"You sure?"
She squints an eye as if to think, "Yes?" She responds.

Who the fuck asks that? "You sure you haven't been drinking?" Pretty sure you'd know or not. I gave the guy a funny look too.

Blah blah blah, he goes and gets Alaska out of the car- now this part is beautiful.

You must understand Alaska is a straight edge. No alcohol for this cat. Ever. Us other three? On any given weekend, hell yeah. No big deal. I just met Alaska the day before, and even when it's offered to him a million times, he refuses. No pressure. Just doesn't. No big deal.

He asks Alaska to step out of the car. When he does this, he totally kicks his soda all over the floor board. "Sir," he says, " I have an issue with the soda. May I fix it?" He asks, po po snaps, "Make it quick," and Alaska begins shoveling the ice and soda out onto the freeway.

Poor kid is a nervous wreck and I had to chuckle a little at the site of him shoveling the soda out.

He gets to the po po, "You been drinkin tonight sir?"
"No sir." He stands at attention.
"You sure? Confident enough to take a breathalyzer test?"
"Yes sir."
"You know that if you're lying, you can go to jail for this?"
"Yes sir."
Of course, blows 00's and Skit and I exchange looks.

The most sober kid you know acts the most drunk of us all. The irony in it all was precious. I was glad he knocked over the soda. It put a damper on the mood of the po po. It made me smile.

He pretty much just had to excuse us after that. We all got back in the car, exchanging each other's stories of the things the jacksquat asked us. In agreement, that guy was a doucher. The other three caught it but I wasn't even paying attention- apparently a lieutenant of some kind.

Not that it matters a rat's to me. Seriously. In a busy city where everything is loud, vehicles have their systems ballin', and we're not even in city limits for any kind of noise ordinance, who the hell pulls over a car because the back seat passenger keeps repeating MAYONNAISE in a man voice?

Seriously dude. You've been pwnd.