giggle pop

A while ago someone asked me to explain when I meant by “that horse at Mardi Gras” when referring to being attacked by animals. I figured telling this story would give you, my readers, a deeper insight into just who I am. So here it is, the story of how I almost got into a fight with a horse. Really I was defending myself so it is the story of how a horse attacked me and I almost fought back.

Let’s go back a few years, it was my first year of law school in New Orleans, and it was my first Mardi Gras. I figure I should explain the few days leading up to the equestrian encounter so you can understand just how I ended up wanting to fight a horse. It was Friday afternoon and a girl I did not know all to well yet, let’s call her Miss Jaco, gave me a call and asked me to go to a parade. Wanting to get in on this whole Mardi Gras thing, and never one to pass down drinking on a street I of course said yes. I get picked up by Miss Jaco, another friend who I will call “Limbo” and Miss Jaco’s boyfriend at the time, lets call him “Freddy.” We all head to the parades giant daiquiris (with extra shot) in hand, and start jumping up and down trying to catch beads and other cheap plastic doo-dads which I had no problem pushing children, bitches, and old people out of the way to get.

I learned after that first parade, I frickin’ LOOOVE Mardi Gras. It involves many of my favorite things: festive costumes, cheap toys, colorful things, drinking on the street, large drunken crowds, endless walking, and just general inappropriate behavior. Now most people from New Orleans hang out on the parade routs in neighborhoods, there is lots and lots of partying and not really any of that flashing stuff, thankfully. After the parades ended our little group wandered to one of our many favorite watering holes F&M’s patio bar. If you have never been to New Orleans or never wandered off of Bourbon Street on your visit let me explain F&M’s to you. We would often refer to it as “the black hole.” It looks just as sketchy inside as it does outside…and that is pretty damn sketchy. It is unwise to show up before 1am, and unheard of to show up before midnight. If you go in, it is a miracle if you get out before 6am, if you leave there before 6am it will only be to go to an even sketchier bar that will be open even later. It also has the most incredible cheese fries, they may be the single best drunken food on the planet, they are magical. We stayed there until god knows when, and I luckily ended up in my bed.

I wake up a few hours later, parades start early on Saturday, and we had to get there plenty early to get a good spot. So this day it was just me, Miss Jaco, and Freddy. We get our giant daiquiris, load up the cooler and head out. Spend the day at parades, wander various bars and then decide to go to a friend’s apartment, let’s call him “tool bag” in the warehouse district which is in proximity to the French Quarter. Now let me explain, I had not even come close to sobering up when I woke up Saturday morning, and I had started drinking almost immediately so by the time we arrived at tool bag’s apartment I had been considerably drunk for about 28 consecutive hours.

After drinking at tool bag’s apartment for a while the three of us leave and wander to Bourbon Street for the “experience.” We start wandering down the street and get a Hand Grenade (another special highly alcohol filled New Orleans drink, like the giant daiquiri). Bourbon Street is packed with people, crazy touchy people everywhere. I am kind of scared, very drunk and clinging to my friends and my hand grenade. We stop for a minute, and all of a sudden I feel something stomp on my foot. When I say stomp I mean STOMP it hurt sooooo bad. I start thinking “duuude, there is no way someone did that on accident, someone just stomped on my foot and I need to find out why.” So as I get over the initial pain I turn around with my arms out in my best pissed off pose and say “what is your problem” expecting to see some d-bag who stepped on my foot.

When I turned around it was not a person, in fact I had NO idea what it was. All I saw was a giant weird looking creatures face looking at me. I was beyond confused, and said quietly and intensely “WHAT ARE YOU??!!??” In a miraculous moment of clarity I realized it was a horse, not just a horse, a horse with a policeman on it. And I then realized my plan to push and/or confront whoever it was that stomped on me was not in fact a good plan. It was in fact a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad plan, and I scurried away confused.

The next morning I was woken up by the scent of a full hand grenade (we must have gone back for seconds) and was never in such pain. Not only in pain from a hangover, but also the intense smell of midori, and the ginormous bruise on my foot.
I learned many valuable lessons that night:
1. Mardi Gras brings out my fightin’ side
2. Horses are to be feared, and I still fear and avoid them
3. I am certain the horse intended to step on me
4. You can actually get drunk enough to not be able to recognize the most basic of farm creatures
5. Never fall asleep cuddling with full hand grenade the smell is hands down the worst smell ever when hungover
6. Any time I start drinking before noon usually ends both simultaneously horribly and hilariously
7. Miss Jaco ended up being one of my best friends and this was far from our last or most epic drunken adventure.
and I think the most interesting part of this all is that this story does not surprise most people I know in the slightest, and this was only night two of my five day Mardi Gras bender.

This picture is of a stuffed horse I caught at my third, and likely final, Mardi Gras…I took it as a sign that life always comes full circle.

As some of you may recall a while back I had a bit of a battle with a little squirrel in my yard that kept getting into a bird feeder. Well here is an update on the little brat. First off I named him Ronnie. Because like his namesake, he is annoying, ballsy, way too full of himself, and unfortunately good at what he does. Though, unlike Human-Ronnie, he is not doing step-overs, scoring goals, taking off his shirt, rolling on the ground, and banging prostitutes-- Squirrel-Ronnie is master at breaking into the damn bird feeder.

The other day I see him in the bird feeder so I decide to scare him away. I go outside he jumps out and sits on the ground and looks at me. Not one to back down to a challenge I throw my shoe at him. Squirrel-Ronnie dodges it skillfully and proceeds to chirp at me. Afraid of the ballsy little thing, and my history of being attacked by wildlife, I run back in the house. I glare out the window, now it is really on.

The next day I decide this is going to end once and for all. I grab a roll of duct tape and I duct tape the hell out of that bird feeder. The birds can still get in but there is no way Squirrel-Ronnie can get in, right? WRONG! For a few days I watch him try with futile efforts to get into the feeder, and laugh as he fails. But then what do you know, I come home from work and the cover (still covered in duct tape) is laying on the ground and Squirrel-Ronnie is up in the tree chirping at me, mocking me.

I am not sure what my next move will be, but this war is far from over.

Here is an old pic of Squirrel-Ronnie in the feeder.

I figured I needed a weekly installment on my blog, so here it is and it will be called “Monday Manmeat.” I will feature a little profile and some pictures of my favorite hottie of the week. I would have chosen a day other than Monday for manmeat fun, but it was the only day that started with M. I hope you enjoy, and if you have a man you want to see on here let me know! Now for my first installment…Jason Statham.

This lovely hunk of action hero manmeat wandered into my life many years ago as “Bacon” in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and “Turkish” in Snatch.

I will be honest he eluded me for years after by staring in a series of bad action movies like the Transporter Trilogy, Crank, etc. However, I started watching some of those bad action movies when I remembered just how ridiculously hot this man is.


Okay well I only watched about 20 minutes of “The Transporter 2” but there was a brilliant moment when he takes off his suit jacket and his button-down shirt is conveniently missing a sleeve exposing his bulging bicep. Now THAT was brilliant filmage. I am now planning on seeing as many of these movies as I can.

all pics from photobucket
I am not going to lie, I am seriously tempted to go see “Crank 2” in the theater, I have not seen “Crank” but I am a smart girl and I figure I can piece together its umm highly complicated and intricate plot via wikipedia and imdb.

< I know, I know… I have been doing all sports posts lately, but I have not had time to work on anything else. I do have some interesting things planned for the next few weeks on blog, but I am still organizing so stay tuned.

Football I
Whew big big weekend in sports. I managed to go the whole weekend without watching any football. It was not really by choice, I was visiting family who do not have sports packages on their cable, silly them. Anyways both Chelsea and Real Madrid won. I saw a bit of the replay of the Chelsea game, it was crazy up 4 goals and then conceded 3, but still won.

Golf
I did get to watch a bit of the masters. Angel Cabrera won, it was a three-way sudden death…pretty exciting stuff. Bendy McBenderson, Camilo Villegas finished tied for 12th (I think, too lazy to go back and look it up). Other exciting golf news, the tour championship is coming to Minnesota and I am about 94% sure I have tickets lined up, sooooo excited!!!

Football II
Now the real excitement, the Champions League!! The semi-finals are set Chelsea v. Barca and ManU v. Arsenal. The second leg of the annual Chelsea/Liverpool game was a thriller to say the least. 4-4 on the night and Chels won 7-5 on aggregate. I had a great time chatting with some of the blues babes on twitter during the game. I think my heart stopped about 6 times and I passed out from holding my breath another 4-5 times. It was a great great nerve wracking game but Chelsea won in the end and that is all that matters. Now as you know I do not have the highest opinion on ‘Pool but you gotta respect the fighting spirit they came to the bridge with, but Chelsea was just not going to let themselves lose the game. There was a great link up goal between Anelka and Drogba, two brilliant goals from Super Frankie Lampard, and an excellent goal off of a free kick by Alex. I am just so proud of the boys in blue right now, and there is a potential of a rematch of last years final with ManU. However, to get there we must go through Barcelona, who as I have mentioned many times on here, is playing ridiculously good this season. I could go on and on about my thoughts on the Barca tie, which I am sure I will at a later date.

That’s all for now, and as I said I will have some more new things going on in here once I get myself settled and organized after a long weekend of far too much drinking.

Let me begin this post by saying I know virtually nothing about cars, and do not especially care to. But I do love my car, and I figured it needed a little blog time. My car is named either Freddy the Focus Road Warrior. Or simply Freddy. He is a 2002 Ford Focus and just about the cutest car on the planet. White with black trim, and grey interior. I really hope I don’t have a stalker on this blog, because I can see giving out that information leading to a bad episode of law and order.

The other day I was driving the long drive to St. Paul (a few hours) and I love road trips, even mini-ones like that. I have my music blasting and have a good time. Every time I see a fellow focus on the road I give my focus driving brother a fist pump in solidarity that would make Lech Walensa proud. So this is dedicated to my Focus loving peeps.

Anyways I got Freddy a little over a year ago. I also loved the car I had before him, a hand-me-down 1994 Bonneville named Bonnie. Bonnie was getting old and beyond repair, so I sent him out to pasture, okay well donated him to charity, same thing. Anyways I needed a new car, that would start and drove etc which Bonnie no longer did. I drove around creepy used car lots in New Orleans, since I did not have much money, so needed something cheap. Then I saw my dream car staring at me from some especially creepy lot. For as long as I can remember I wanted a Focus, and there was Freddy. Pretty low millage, looked in good shape ran well the many times I drove him and was perfectly in my price range. I knew it was fate. After some debate, and talking to people, I knew in my heart that Freddy was for me. I then purchased my first car, and drove him around town for a while.

Here I am about 18 months later, and my and Freddy are still going strong. We adventured from one send of the Mississippi river all the way to the other end (I literally went from a few miles from the bottom of the Mississippi to a few miles from the top). He survived his first Minnesota winter in style. Struggled on a few of the super cold days , but also stepped up and helped start a few other cars. People always rip on Ford for being bad cars, but they can screw themselves, I think my Focus is awesome. Some of the coolest people I know also drive focuses with pride (my dad and best friend to name a few).

So to all the Ford hating car snobs out there…
VIVA LA FOCI!!