I've got Saints fever and the prescription is a Super Bowl win!
I'm not used to having to juggle football and Mardi Gras. In the past football, pro and college, was over for me about the first week in January. But not this year. Da Saints are marching in, with a play-off match up in the Dome Saturday. Everyone was excited about the game, but it got bumped up when it was announced the Saints had resigned Deuce McAllister. He didn't play but he was team captain. I watch the game at the Rendezvous on Magazine street and while there were two rounds of "Reggie! Reggie! Reggie!" there were at least two if not three "Deuuuuuuuuuuce!"
Football. It allows men to hug and women to curse like a drunken sailor. I wish I had a dollar for every f bomb one girl dropped. It was her birthday, as she liked to keep reminding everyone, over and over, so I'll forgive her. Football allows me to get in touch with my inner dude. By the end of the game, my throat hurts from yelling, hands hurt from clapping and hi-fiving.
Friday night I went to the Pussyfooter's Blush Ball which was a total blast. Great party and I loved the 610 Stompers. Saturday before the game went to the den of Krewe de Vieux to work on the Krewe of Pan's float. Looking forward to the parade. It will be a first for me being in a parade.
WHO DAT?!
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