My Analysis, Yer Analysis Part III: A Primary Source Account of Mardi Gras as told through my colon
Sunday, February 22, 2009 –
12:35 a.m.
One Wendys Baconator,Three chicken nuggets, Fries w/sweet n’ sour sauce
Diet coke.[1]
Food coma
10:30 a.m.
I am awakened to the sight of a friend’s lower appendage. He made out with a girl at the parade for as long as I watched movies that night. He greets me with the following introduction.
“Wake up. Smell my dick.”
He doesn’t even have her number in his phone. (Can I move back here now?)
Two shots of tequila, One beer, One bite of a praline
12:30 p.m.
Okay, this is all in one sitting and marks the apotheosis of the trip:
At this point, I’d like to thank The Court of the Two Sisters $35 buffet, the Owner of a silver Saab, one couple who would have kept me up more than the cats had I decided to sleep in the spare adjacent room next to theirs, the girl who kept up with me at the buffet, and a friend who woke me up by saying “smell my dick.”
Eight waters, One bloody mary
Plate One
Two scoops of chicken curry salad
One scoop of regular chicken salad
Two cocktail shrimp with remoulade sauce
One small slice of cornbread
One scoop of crawfish pasta salad.
*I’d like to note that I got called a pussy right here.
Plate Two
(all on one medium-sized plate)
One gob of creamed spinach
One ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes
Three ladles of jambalaya with sausage
Three scoops of crawfish louise[2]
Duck l’orange
Sweet potato salad
Veal grillades
I order a sequel to my bloody mary. I dip my fingers into the warm lemon water finger bowls they just gave us.
Plate Three
One carrot cake
Three slices of bacon eaten concurrently with bread pudding
Three scoops of bread pudding
Four helpings of bananas foster
Plate Four
Three scoops of chicken curry salad
One chocolate cream cake
One piece of king cake.
These were mashed together on a dare and eaten in one bite. They were further mashed by “smell my dick” and I continued eating.
3:30 p.m.
One liter of melon Gatorade
Seven beers.[3]
I see the Budweiser Clydesdales and dalmation for the fourth time in as many days. A woman knocks on my locked port-o-john door and I open it. She’s hammered with raccoon eyes and a litter of kids. I’d call child services if I knew the number.
Three minutes after the parade, the city police empty an endless number of vans containing Orleans Parrish Prisoners. Apparently, the OPP have been assigned to clean up my mess.[4] Most of them are here because they made a mess themselves. Nine times out of ten, this crime is for pissing in public or some other minor ordinance violation they couldn’t make bail for. I feel bad but at the same time it’s a fitting punishment: Cleaning up beer cans from excessive drinking. Punishment for their own crime of pissing in public that undoubtedly stemmed from their own heavy drinking.
9:00 p.m.
1 cup of miso soup
4 cups of tea, 8 glasses of water
One wasabi laced mussel shooter.[5]
One plate of noodles and chicken
One bite of crab salad
One chicken tempura dipped in some kind of soy-based sauce
15-20 sushi rolls of 9 different varieties
It’s dead on arrival and I pass out on the couch.
Monday, February 23, 2009 – 4:51 a.m.
Three handfuls of New Orleans city water
Twenty-five tortilla chips from the lower-mid to the bottom of the bag
Airport 6:15 a.m.
One 15 oz chocolate milk
One raspberry jam filled, glazed Krispy Kreme donut.
Back home 11:38 a.m. Eastern Standard Time
One surprisingly unbroken scale.
Somehow I only gained seven pounds this weekend. This may be due to the recent amputation of my left foot to combat a random diagnosis of adult onset diabetes. No more spiderman sugar cookies I guess.
End, February 23, 2009 – 11:39 a.m.
One tingling left arm.
My esophagus and once small (Newly Extenze-did) intestine contributed to this report.
[1]Movies watched due to Diet Coke: last 15 minutes of New Jack City, last 30 minutes of Reindeer Games, 4 minutes of Katt Williams standup, 60 seconds of Three’s Company, last 75 minutes of Die Hard, last 10 mins Gangs of New York (this is not a good movie and does not hold up, watch it again, it is really bad), The Fan (DeNiro, Snipes, the worst of the seven).
[2] It’s like stuffing crawfish and mashed potatoes had a ménage a trios and this is their freaky baby.
[3] While having a conversation about the fall of Sandra Bullock, my friend and I are alerted to the mental state of the seven people we have met up with. I overhear the following line. Keep in mind that he is standing no more than two feet from a cop. It is not loud and the floats have not started yet: “These shrooms are awesome.” No repercussions from this. Awesome.
[4] Yeah you know me.
[5] One sinus attack
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