What a weekend! Let’s work backwards shall we?
The Saints won the goddamn Super Bowl! Here’s me and (some of) my Tulane girls praisin’ Breesus and all that jazz.
The first half was Estrogen Fest XLIV. Look at all them ladies! M.’s was the sole Y chromosome ‘til after half-time (and he was mostly in the kitchen, cooking — ha!). Then Mark and Petey showed up. Petey trained it all the way from Harlem to catch the end of the game with us. He was there at the play-off game and he thought — rightly — it’d be bad juju for the Saints if he didn’t show.
On a side note: Mark and M. are intellectual gourmands (sorry, no other words for it) who drool over each other’s bookshelves and spent 20 minutes crafting a cocktail around a very serious and very potent bottle of Creme de Violet from Paris. Meanwhile they’re tossing around arcane football terms and commenting on the finer points of the game — and they’re first to admit they haven’t watched football since the last Super Bowl. Where do men pick up this knowledge? Secret Boys’ Club meetings?
Anyway.
Laura was voted Most Team Spirit with her superhot gold leggings and homemade pralines.
INTERCEPTION!!!!!!
When they won we put on “Glory Bound” and “Feel Like Funkin’ It Up” and danced around like we were down in New Orleans. There’s just no dancin’ like the dancin’ we do down there.
Oh and then I think Akiko screamed “Show us your tits!” and M. took his shirt off. We didn’t even have beads to throw him!
He’s always looking for an excuse to take his shirt off.
These cats know how to throw a party. Bo’ssam for the Super Bowl? Yes. Please.
And in case anyone was wondering if that Creme de Violet cocktail was any good, it was fucking awesome.
