I need a beer and it's titty-squeezin' time

Holy crap, is it really Mardi Gras already? It came early this year.

Happy Mardi Gras. I have one good* Mardi Gras story. Somewhere out there--well, specifically, it's at the Great Leader's house, I think--is a photo of us, from the vantage point of the projection TV, sitting on the couch and crying.

[UPDATE: The Great Leader has come through. Here it is. I really *am* crying, though it's partly from exhaustion, and partly from laughing really hard at the absurd "Huis Clos" vibe of the evening. The guy to my right was my aimless-but-well-meaning boyfriend. Shortly after this trip he got on a bus to Colorado. I wonder how he's doing. Wow, you can almost see his nutsack. What *is* that behind us? Jesus.]

*Void in MN, WA, RI, and OH.