| 06 March 2003 
       The alarm clock went off at seven on Fat Tuesday. It was 
      painfully early. Everyone started stumbling about, and Baris and Christie 
      eventually showed up with Barbara. We got into costume as quickly as 
      possible. We were St. Harold's School For Wayward Girls on 
      our Mardi Gras Field Trip. I was a priest. Baris was an altar boy. 
      Sonya, Lark, Barbara, Christie and Ellie were the wayward girls. Donna and 
      Jimmy - whom we hooked up with later - were a nun and Jesus, respectively. 
      I carried a sign and a drink. The drinking started before we were out the 
      door. We saw Spike Lee and the majority of Zulu before we 
      started down St. Charles for the French Quarter. At Lee Circle we drank, 
      took picture, used the bathroom and kept calling Jimmy and Donna until we 
      found them. WIth our grounp complete - and the picture requests from 
      strangers started about then - we continued our walk to the French 
      Quarter. It was a big day. Lark, Barbara and Shawn talked their way 
      into a hotel to use the bathroom. I blessed people left and right. The 
      schoolgirls got lots of beads. We'd make our way through the crowds and I 
      heard people say "it's a school group of some sort." That's right, baby. Donna stopped to buy a ruler so her nun outfit would be 
      complete. She swatted people mercilessly. We stopped in a little bar on Tulane for drinks and a 
      bathroom. We were the only customers. The old men who ran the place didn't 
      seem to happy to see us, but the bartender was delighted. We danced and 
      drank and would have caused a scene, if anyone had been there to see it. 
      We finally managed to cross the parade on Basin Street and entered the 
      French Quarter. Ellie flashed her boobs for gigantic beads. Jimmy barged into Deja Vu and asked "you got a table for 
      me and my disciples?" The bartender didn't even blink. More pictures with strangers at Tropical Isle. "You're in the wrong place, father!" someone yelled. Dude! I'm wearing a Saints hat and drinking a hand 
      grenade! I'm hip! Donna and Jimmy, for reasons too convoluted to go into, 
      had purchased some anal beads. These were immediately hung from our sign. 
      People started trying to throat as many beads as possible. It was 
      charming. Christie gave me a hug, and I 
      slowly...lost...my...balance... We tumbled into the street, me laughing, Christie showing 
      the world her panties. Around eight we washed ashore at Lafitte's. Everyone 
      looked a little ragged - we'd been at it for a solid twelve hours. After a 
      few more drinks everyone caught cabs and went their own way. We didn't get 
      to see the horses go down the street at midnight, but I think we made a 
      respectable showing. Pictures to come soon, I promise. | |||||||