Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Mardi Gras Is Never a Good Idea.

I'm pretty sure that I've forgotten how to write a blog post in the year and three months that I haven't written anything. Here goes nothing...

I've attempted Mardi Gras once before as an adult, and it didn't go well. I mean, it didn't go badly, it just didn't go at all on account of how we were like, "Fuck this cold; let's day drink at home." So now when people say, "Are you going to Mardi Gras this year?!", I say, "If by Mardi Gras, you mean staying home and getting shitfaced and showing my boobs for no reason because there aren't beads involved, then YES. Yes I am."

This year, however, a friend of mine rented a lot for the parade. And also their very own portapotty. But the most important thing included was THE FREE MOTHERFUCKING KEG, AMIRITE? So I said okay, sure, what's the worst that could happen?

-_-

It was still a few hours before the parade was going to reach us, and we had been throwing that keg beer back. See, the problem with drinking out of a keg is that you have no fucking clue how much you've been drinking. And so you drink more. And some more. And then you're like dancing to Ke$ha when you know you shouldn't be, because all of those moves look way better in the car.

I had to use the portapotty because of all the free! keg! beer!, so I headed on in. It was already dark at that point, so inside the portapotty was complete and total darkness. I was pretty drunk, so I did that whole wobble-wobble-balance routine you have to do when you're drunk and trying to go to the bathroom. Also, it was a portapotty so I was hovering and drunk and let me tell you, my thighs are not used to the kind of strength required for squatting over a toilet to avoid the germy germs.

I finished up and went to throw the toilet paper away, when I realized the worst. thing. ever.

THE ONE MOTHER. FUCKING. TIME A MAN PUTS THE TOILET SEAT DOWN. THE ONE TIME. ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

The guy who went in before me put the lid of the porta potty down. So yeah. I peed all over the lid of the toilet. And yeah. It kind of got on my jeans without me realizing because I was so busy squatting and being drunk and trying to hurry. And I'm not talking a little splish splash, y'all. I'm talking NOTICEABLE PEE. ON MY JEANS. AT MARDI GRAS.

The only damage control I could manage was to walk out and be all, "HEY I THINK SOMEONE PEED ALL OVER THE FLOOR IN THERE BECAUSE OF HOW IT WAS ALREADY THERE WHEN I WALKED IN BECAUSE IT DEFINITELY WASN'T ME SO SOMEONE SHOULD PROBABLY CHECK THAT OUT BECAUSE IT'S GROSS UM LOL?"

Then I proceeded to lean up against a truck for the rest of the night. I looked like one of those kids at the school dance, standing on the nerd wall. People were all, "Hey! Come look at these awesome floats!" and I'm like, "Oh, they look just beautiful from back here. I think I actually prefer the view from leaning against this truck, rather than the view that would require me to show you my PEE PANTS BECAUSE OMG THAT'S WHAT I WAS WEARING.

So. Gross.