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I spent Lundi Gras running around the West Bank looking for costume supplies, some horns, some spray paint, a few minor things. I’m trying rely more and more on the existing “costume box” than having to go out and buy a bunch of stuff two times a year. The box is becoming its own haberdasher of masquerades.

I wasn’t planning on getting my groove on too strong for Lundi Gras as I have been known to do in previous years. So I ate a good dinner, shaved my head into a mohawk (so I wouldn’t have to do it in the morning) and took the ferry over.

I met up with some friends and we just sat outside their hotel on Tchoup hotel and waited for the parade and talked to folks.

When it came by, I snapped a few pictures of Salt ‘n’ Pepa and Miiiiiiiiiiiiitch and noted that Sydney Torrez has the build of a nine-years-old boy.

The Krewe of Orpheus seemed to be out of gas by the time they reached us. Much of the choice throws were gone or were being saved for the Convention Center. The red flambeauxs were out of flares and the gowns were hanging off. Everybody was dragging their ass. It was still a great parade. I just remember it being better last year when we saw it a few blocks up.

I am happy to say that this was the first parade of Mardi Gras in which we did not haveto endure a single douche in our general area. Very nice!

After it was finished, I quietly worked my way back to the ferry and got a good night’s sleep.

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I woke up on Tuesday prepared. Ready to be a two-man Krewe with Romy. It took us a while to leave the house but we finally made it out the door at noon. A pitiful time to leave I know. Costumes take time. She was a drag queen and I was the Axeman of New Orleans. We posed for a pic outside the house.

We were among a dozen or so costumed folks on the ferry but met up with our friend Brice and chatted him up while we crossed. He said to find him later on Frenchmen where he would be with a fella serving drinks from a gas pump.

We disembarked and made our way toward the Marigny, stopping at a bar the name of which eludes me. We met our neighbors at said bar and had a drink to get warmed up for the jaunt. They called some other friends who met us a few minutes later and they had a drink too.

A girl under the influence of either pharmaceuticals and alcohol or hallucinogens and alcohol was dancing around and harassing me. Then she went outside and played in a cyclone of confetti whipped up by the wind and the buildings.

Another couple joined us and we set out for the Marigny. But it would be some time before we arrived and, our numbers would be dwindled.

We walked a block before everyone’s drinks were empty and their bladders full. We encountered several entities along the way, among them a Frida Khalo and a marvelous drag queen and a golden gimp.

After everyone got situated we set out again.

Then I lost them when I doubled back to catch some Indians.

Then we encountered this gentleman who Romy adored. He said he has never dressed up like this before but I have a hard time believing him since his scrotum was shaved. Unless he shaved it for some other reason. Very possible I suppose. Either way, we all were staring at him and I could tell he was loving every minute of it. One lady in our group was begging him to work out. I don’t think she understood doing so would defeat the whole purpose. Think shock and awe.

We left our direct route to travel Royal for a few blocks and everybody stopped and got drinks and peed again. The some people saw folks they knew and we stopped a few more times. Then someone stopped to talk to strangers. In an hour, we probably traveled a block and a half.

I saw this leather bound guy who said he was in love with my teeth. We had brief conversation that went like this:

Him: I love those teeth!
Me: Thanks!
Him: That costume is too much! You are fine!
Me: Thanks!
Him: But those teethe are the best!
Me: I could have glued them in but I wanted to take them out so I can drink and blow my horn!
Him: I’LL blow your horn!
Me: Thanks! See ya later!

We made our way around Royal and finally ended up by the Alibi where several members of the party stopped to get drinks and pee.

The one of my friends said he wanted to go to the Cathedral so, “Lance can harass the Christians.” I don’t know why I was volunteered as the one to harass our heavenly brothers but I have never been one to look away from responsibility when it is thrust upon me. So I walked up to the damnation congregation gathered in front of the Cabildo in my “Axeman of New Orleans” outfit and stood in front of them for a quick picture. Well, the guy on the megaphone behind me was preaching the word hot and heavy and I must say his gospel inspired me. I started showing my teeth and mimicking his words and pointing at people around me with my axe and horn, telling them they were sinners. My friend was snapping photos the whole time. This whole act inspired people around me to come up and get pictures with me and before I knew it there was a whole crowd gathered around witnessing the event. Evey time I decided enough was enough some more people made get in front of the crowd and pose with them. Then a guy dressed as a priest came up and demanded I take communion right there. he gave me a the body of Christ and some blood straight from the box. By this time another fella dressed in a green pope outfit started arguing with the congregation and the Guardian Angels had to step in to break it up. I used this opportunity to pose with Romy (dressed as a drag queen) one last time. I grabbed the sock stuffed in the crotch and we posed for this picture.

Then I removed myself from the situation before I was charged with inciting a riot.

It seemed like our group was never going to make it to the Marigny so Romy and I left them at the Cathedral as a means of possibly forming a vanguard that would serve as a motivation for them to move froward.

We left Jackson Square and proceeded to Molly’s where we were able to rest our feet and drain our bladders. We phoned the Krewe of few times but they said they were further away than when we left them. After chatting with very nice tourists, Romy’s hairstylist and some other folks, we departed for Frenchmen. This was around 3 p.m. Thats right, it took us 3 hours to get to The Marigny. It was as if it was the Land of Oz or something.

Along the way I saw this insane female joker and her sad little Warrior.

When we reached the Marigny the dancing and music in the street was in full effect. There was even a clarinetist. Things were getting a bit blurry and all the people we met and the costumes we saw were starting to blend together. We danced our butts off and I consumed some more beers.

Interestingly enough, I never caught a serious buzz this entire Carnival. I was lightly buzzed a few times but never really shitty on the mic. I never reached any significant hangover even though it was my intent at least once. I don’t really drink during parades because (and I know this makes me sound like a serious Mardi Gras nerd) the parades are often exciting enough. Now it seems that Fat Tuesday has reached that same level.

After a few hours in the Marigny, we decided to head back the other way. Romy traipsed almost the entire time. She felt muy buenisimo in her drag queen outfit. I would sometimes catch her rubbing her stuffed sock. A drunk tourist up on the balcony saw her doing it and the ensuing conversation went something like this:

Him: (leering) What you rubbing on there girl?
(approaching the balcony and grabbing the sock) Her: My dick!
Him: (stammering) I…heh….you….ahhh…what’s…uh…

It takes a lot to render a drunk Alabaman speechless on Fat Tuesday.

Romy made me take several more images of her on the way back to the ferry and then we boarded, ate a burger at the Dry Dock and went home. Mad props to Subu for picking us up and dropping us off.

Until next year ya’ll!

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Best parade: Muses (what they lacked in bands they made up for with Steppers and the like). Close second to Hermes.
Best throw: Bags of REAL GLASS BEADS.
Most throws: Orpheus
Best band: O. Perry Walker and St. Aug.
Best celeb: Hogan
Best pics: Banjo girl, Tuba man