Mmmmm... that's a yummy looking steak!

Well, well, well... Fat Tuesday. Or, Mardi Gras if you're French. As we all know, Mardi Gras in the good 'ole US of A is synonymous with New Orleans. And why not? Why not party in a place where you will surely be killed by random gunfire if you stand still too long? Where hustlers and dirty women stand duty on every street corner. Where if the weather and insects won't kill you, the drinks will. Drinks so appropriately named... hurricanes. Sick, sick people. Ask and you shall receive I guess...

In case you can't tell, I hate New Orleans. It's a festering sore on the ass of the country, and I never rejoiced so much to see it under sewag... er, water. If you're interested, you can read some posts I've written about New Orleans and a wonderful little lady named Katrina.

http://iamdum.blogspot.com/2005/08/you-go-katrina.html

http://iamdum.blogspot.com/2006/08/infamy-of-katrina.html

And then go stuff yourself and prepare for 40 days of torturing yourself in the name of God. Suckers.

Nick