National State of Alert:
(as of 3-8-04)

Personal State of Alert:
(as of 3-8-04)

Reason for Personal State of Alert:
- So this is post-college life? Really? *shivers*

- The Passion of Christ featured a deleted scene where Christ called me out and told me "You're next"

Featured Links:
Diaryland.com
OnlineOnslaught.com
MSNBC.com
QuietAmerican.org
MoneyCentral.msn.com
Tremble.com
Weezer.com
Fool.com
GirlsArePretty.com

joelthecat.diaryland.com

Sunday and Lundi Gras
2004-03-11 - 9:20 p.m.

Mardi Gras Day Two is Continued from Previous Post

When we last left our hero, he was on Bourbon Street and feeling the effects of a Hand Grenade and a Hurricane after starting drinking at noon. Que lastima!

So, while intoxicatedly walking down Bourbon, I got some treats. Free strawberry flavored condoms were passed out by strangers in red Trojan shirts, and other strangers passed out similar condom-packet sized pamphlets trying to show me Jesus. I was also probably treated to more exposed private parts than I realized; but most of my attention was focused on staying together with my group, and getting to whatever the next destination was. I know we entered the gay district and entered into a two floor club and bar; but I'm uncertain if I kept drinking at that point. Somehow, I got on a balcony, and threw some beads at someone for who knows what, and I distincty remember trying not to see two of everyone down below and failing. John also took the drunken opportunity to ask what our deal was- we, at his prompting, had kissed two or three times throughout the night, but I'm fairly certain that I made it clear I wanted just friendship from him. I know around then I officially switched to water, and was trying to be aroused by the half naked dancers on the bar in front of me, but I couldn't get too into it. John and Shawn both happily tipped the guy right in front of us, who must've slipped himself some Viagra before donning his tighty-whities, as he was consistently "alert." The dude across the way in the flag themed speedo shorts and the guy in the board shorts were actually far cuter.

Somewhere along the way, I had a slice of pepperoni pizza that I devoured, and somewhere along the trip back to the car, things got sour. John refused to walk with the pack, and was mad at someone (who I later found out to be Shawn) for some reason I didn't (and still don't) understand at all. On the corner of Baronne and Canal Street, we stopped, and I decided I better get bailed out. Around a half hour later, Jesse's mom picked me up, leaving John and his friends to themselves. I did get an angry call from John about this, but rather than argue with a drunk friend, I ended the conversation quickly to conserve my battery. It was quite relieving to have Linda take me away from the madness, rather than leave with a pack of drunk friends that probably wouldn't successfully get me to Jesse's grandmother's house, where I was staying.

BARF!

Without much prompting from my index finger, all the poison I'd been pumping in my innards came flying out in waves from my mouth, and sometimes nose. It wasn't pretty, it didn't feel great, but I expected it, and it was over quickly enough. I slept like a rock star on Soma, and woke up without a headache or hangover.

That's why I was very surprised when I tried to go back to sleep after a glass of orange juice the next morning. Good thing the bathroom was close by- Baaarf! Baarf!! What went down came right back up. The good thing 'bout orange juice at least is that it tastes the exact same both ways. That session sealed my fate though; everyone knew I was the sick guest this year, joining the ranks of Chase (Jesse's sister's boyfriend) last year, and Emily, Jesse's sister, the year before.

Enough puke talk! I was feeling better, so the gorging on home-food began. I had toasted french bread, grandma-cooked scrambled eggs, two cans of Sprite, a brisket sandwich... mmm, yummy. We lounged the day away on the couch, watching Most Extreme Elimination Challenge (with Jesse's 75 year old grandfather chuckling along at the Asian folks misfortune), and later, Bruce Almighty. Both get a thumbs up from the JTC camp.

Finally, around 5 pm, we get to Joe and Susan's place downtown, our kind, downtown New Orleans host, and pig out there on devilled eggs, chips and bean dip, soda (I'd learned my lesson with alcohol!), mini-roast beef sandwiches, and mufeletta (sp?). We headed out for the much rain delayed Orpheus parade, saw Harry Connick Jr. and one of the Lord of the Ring hobbits (Merry), and caught lots of cool swag due to thin, bad weather crowd. I had a good, good time, and am looking forward to Fat Tuesday!

"Build for me these memories, for to see my depth of sorrow" -Rufus Wainwright

Reason for Terror # 82:

Using phrase "da bomb" unwittingly in phone tapped conversations could lead to arrest and beatings by the FBI, local authorities, and hip police.

Reason for Terror # 81:

There was a little bit of mold on that bread you had this morning.

Reason for Terror # 80:

When evening falls, you can try to drive away; but the moon will be following... always following...