February 20th, 2007

Sidekicks

Fat Tuesday = More Free Boobies For Me

Yes my friends, it's that time of year where investing all of your money into plastic beads FINALLY pays off! And thank the Christ too, because I've been taking a bath on these damn things since New Years. And even though we're no where near New Orleans or Rio or even the country of Brazil, that's not gonna stop us from swilling beer in the streets and flashing our grotesque unmentionables for all of the oogling world to see.

That's right, it's Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, and I forgot I can't indent paragraphs with this thing.

It may or may not be well documented within these hallowed Internet walls my first and only experience (that I can recall) of publicly yelling out in a massive group full of people, "Show Us Your Tits" and it not have to do with Colin A. Olivers. Forgive me if I'm leaving anyone out here, but this was during my senior year of college and I was with four dudes all under the age of 21. We had Konstantin Y. Zak, Ian Q. Patterson, Brian 'Sir' Pearl, and Drunk Mars Asscheck.

Like I said, I was 21, going on 22, and all these assclowns were 12 going on 13. I'm almost positive that we managed to take a bus down to Pioneer Square, or at the very least I didn't drive. But, that doesn't matter for shit because I was bloody-hell sober pretty much the whole time.

Here's what I remember. I had little-to-no money, so I made everyone wait outside a bar while I took down a shot of jagermeister. That set me back like 8 bucks or some shit and pretty much tapped me out for the night. I dunno, maybe we snuck beers with us or something, but I'm telling you, it WASN'T enough. Then, it was just this massive loop, walking in the throng of drunker-than-us dudes - fucking annoying DOUCHES if you ask me, and you are - around this sectioned-off area of street. I'm pretty sure I counted seeing something like 11 naked boobs, and they WEREN'T all that impressive. And I think Asscheck accidentally rubbed his wood on me.

Oh, and of course, who could forget the debacle that was Kon and Ian urinating in public? Actually, I could ... I really only remember seeing bike cops riding in their direction and both of them running away and hiding. I dunno, it's not my story, I'm sure they could tell it better if they were here.

That was either the year of, but most likely the year BEFORE all those gang members went around stabbing people in Pioneer Square; and since there appears to be a decided lacking in savage scars about my person, I'm gonna go ahead and draw my own conclusion on that one.

Anyway, Fat Tuesday as we all know is the epic celebration leading into Lent, the Catholic Holiday of Repression (for Catholics, isn't EVERY day a holiday of repression?). Exactly 46 days before Easter; even though Lent is only considered a 40-day ritual, since Sundays are exempt. Every year, even though I'm not what you'd call a religious man, I give a minute or two's worth of thought to the notion of participating in Lent.

Apparently, according to some people I talk to, there are two kinds of Lent; kinda like how there are Girl Pushups and Regular Pushups. Some people choose to give up something for Lent for the entire 46-day period, including Casual Sundays. We call that Sloane Boy Lent (man, we're really whipping out the Inside Jokes today aren't we? you pretty much have to be ... Kon to understand this entire thing).

So, this year I thought about it - That Thing, That Thing, That Thiiiiing you're supposed to give up needs to be a REAL sacrifice, so you can't just say that you'll give up eating deer or quail for a month, because that's BULLSHIT - and there are only a few things I'd consider as being sacrificial to me. Number one is caffeine: that means no coffee (easy), no soda (easier still), and no tea (no fucking way). Pretty much, it means Water and Juice all the time. Like I said, no fucking way. Maybe if I didn't have a job and a million and a half things to do with this website and everything else, but otherwise you wouldn't want to know me.

Next up, I was thinking of giving up meat. I already don't eat that much meat anyway, and then I thought about it: White Castle. Now, of course, if I was participating in Girl Lent, then it'd be no problem, I'd get my White Castle fix on Sundays like always and everything would be peachy; but that Sunday rule just seems like a cop out. Plus, life is too short to go around depriving yourself of White Castle.

The only other thing that would make sense and actually be practical (no way I'm giving up on watching downloaded television shows when I'm sliding into the Series Finale of The O.C. this week, not to mention in the midst of another pulse-pounding season of 24) would be to give up alcohol. Again, it's not like I'm getting plastered every day, so this would really only apply to my Fridays and/or Saturdays. This really WOULD make the most sense though, because it's a vice that's not good for me, it would be a test of my will power and stamina as a free-thinking individual, and it's something I just plain enjoy doing.

Like I said, every year I give this a minute or two's worth of thought and then I come to the same conclusion I come to every year: I'm not Catholic and Life-Is-Enough-Of-A-Pain-In-The-Ass-As-It-Is,-Why-Go-Adding-More-Struggle-To-It? Being human, being alive, it's all one big series of indulgences. Knowing how to control those indulgences will determine how long you'll remain a living human, but that's the whole point and the biggest part of the fun. I'm surely not going to deprive myself based on some arbitrary religious whim, especially when I have no intention of reaping those religious benefits. What would I get out of it? Will it help me enjoy more that which I relinquished for so long? Will it lead to my being laid by 72 blonde-haired virgins (surely not blonde down THERE you say!)?

Seems to me they've got this whole Fat Tuesday thing backwards. They should postpone it, call it Titty-Fuck Monday, set it for the day AFTER Easter, and make this whole Mardi Gras thing your REWARD for surviving Lent.

By the way, how do you say "Titty-Fuck Monday" in French?