Today, people in my otherwise-godforsaken state give thanks for the best gift the Catholic Church ever gave us--Mardi Gras! The one day out of the year where beads outmaneuver the dollar and male charm as currency for seeing boobs. Oh, and it's apparently a historical festival of some sort with enormous communal significance. Laissez les bon temps rouler (Par-tay)!
7 comments:
Don't they teach y'all proper French down there, Ian? Adjectives in French must agree with the nouns they modify: so it's "Laissez les bons temps rouler!"
(And now that I'm done lecturing you about grammar, you can go back to partying.)
C'mon Ian, show us your penis and we'll toss you beads!
You can see it through my pants already! Look near the knee. I drive a very small truck.
I can see someone has started their Mardi Gras revels already...
;)
Hey Ian do we have class wednesday?
I wish we did. That would be a sight to behold, wouldn't it?
Yes, the only time of the year I truly miss anything about the South.
Mardi Gras and Burning Man, the only times I ever want to cross that border.
The very idea of classes the day after Fat Tuesday, is a thing of humour.
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