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Andrew John

Mardi Gras Blues

by Andrew John on

Over the weekend I was doing the same thing as thousands of other college kids around the country. No, not having a same-sex experience. Anyway, that doesn’t count, you were drunk! Unfortunately, I’m not even talking about mutual-masturbation (it’s been so long since I’ve had a quality hand job from someone non-me). I’m talking about Mardis Gras!!! Yes, Mardi Gras where it is socially acceptable to demand that women expose themselves for a reward of cheap mass-produced jewelry that was made by the unlucky Cambodian 6 year-old that wasn’t adopted by Angelina Jolie!!! I had an awesome time at the St. Louis Mardi Gras, and I want to tell you what I learned from it. 

 


            1) Drunk guys will watch the same girl flash half a nipple from a two story window for hours on end, 100% contently. 

How long is that guy going to stand there with his mouth open? Does he even have any friends? Is that girl going to fall out of that fucking window? These are all questions that would be asked any other day, but at Mardi Gras these events pass and no one cares to ask these questions, much less answer them.

            2) Thank God for terrible fathers.

Did he miss your dance recital in Kindergarten? Did he love his after work scotch more than you? I don’t know what the hell your father did or didn’t do when you were growing up to make you need the captive attention of so many men that you will bare your breasts in 40 degree weather, but I’m glad he did it. In fact, I’d like to shake the hand of the man that didn’t hug enough and buy him his next round. Is this also the reason that you feel the need to accumulate as much “jewelry” as you can to get men to notice you? No? Oh yeah, you just want beads because you’re drunk and need attention. 

            3) A festival devoted to drinking, public nudity, and making a general ass out of yourself attracts more men than women!!!

 Honestly, the fact that this was a sausage fest did not surprise me at all. When you stop to think about it every kegger, house party, pre-game, circle jerk, concert, and bar in college are sausage fests. It’s because whenever there is a place with a halfway decent ratio, word gets out and every fucking doucebag from the tri-state area show’s up. The only place that women outnumber men is class, and you’re too busy trying to get away with adjusting your balls in a crafty manner to even enjoy it. But I submit that next year Mardi Gras should be sponsored by fucking Oscar Meyer. Do you know how many girls were at Mardi Gras? I do, 37. I fucking counted!!! I also realized that if gender roles were reversed, I doubt that 300,000 women would come to a festival to watch three dozen guys attempt to do the helicopter.

            4) After 208 ounces of hurricane, bars are confusing.

For a person with so much experience being in bars and being hammered, this should have been my Olympics. While I was at the bar, everything blurred together into an orgy of drinking, beads, dudes, money leaving my hands to pay for more drinking and 14 girls. The high point of the night came when four of the girls were walking past me as I looked like I was putting out the vibe, when in actuality I was just trying to keep my balance. They were talking when three of them pointed out that one of their friends should make-out with me. Being a dude, I obliged until she pulled away and said, “I don’t even know you”. I replied with, “Name…is…John…hi.” That was about the time she walked away slightly disappointed in herself and I acted like I didn’t care for 20 minutes. After which I spent the next hour walking around looking for her. 

            5) Fuck beads.

Fuck beads, beads are stupid. I’ll never understand what it is about them that makes people want to accumulate them. They serve no function. And I forgot to buy some before we got down there. But I did figure out that they are unnecessary to see any flashers because all the other 300,000 dudes brought beads, so I became a stealth ninja master of the sneak-a-peek.

 

Well, I hope that these five points of wisdom that I learned will benefit every person that attends Mardi Gras next year. Now, all together everyone, SHOW US YOUR TITS!!!
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