Tag Archives: Superbowl party

Seven weird things that happened to me since my last post

Today’s Weight … 121.9

Two pieces of king cake, sushi, crawfish pasta, finger sandwiches, french fries, cheese, an Oreo ball, a doughnut and alcohol. Oh, and a banana. Surprisingly not a good recipe for weight loss.

Don’t get it? Check this post.

(1) I bit down into a fried oyster and may have cracked my tooth on, ironically, another tooth. Actually, part of another tooth … that somehow was deposited and cooked with the oyster. It was restaurant leftovers. And, yes, I realize how completely disgusting this situation is … as it was in my mouth.


(2) I watched as a group of dads (I’m sorry, I mean really tough guys) defended the honor of my friend, Vanessa, who was accosted by a large group of redneck hillbillies (I can say it, I’m from here) at the family Mardi Gras parade this weekend. Totally serious. It almost got as ugly as the people doing the accosting.

(3) I was handed a tooth at our Superbowl party yesterday. Granted, it was my daughter’s. But still … what’s with all the dental omens?

(4) I stopped to take a picture of my neighbor’s garbage … a 1960s-ish AirGoMeter (wondering if it’s Air-GO-Meter or AirGOMeter) … and contemplated “stealing” it for the purposes of my own entertainment.


(5) I used a bathroom with a bidet yesterday. I thought that merited mentioning.

(6) I was sold a beer at my Superbowl party yesterday by my daughter.

(7) I helped a friendly stranger name her (hopefully award-winning) vegetarian chili. My suggestion? Milli Vanilli Chili. Because the recipe includes an ingredient posing as a something else.


Busy day of Mardi Gras parades, Superbowl parties & #footballforwomen

Today’s Weight … 121.3

“Losing weight during Mardi Gras season is going to be harder than I thought,” said me, with a mouth full of doughnut.

Don’t get it? Check this post.

I just dropped off my family and an entire truckload of crap at the float for their parade.  My daughter’s on the bottom level with a bunch of friends.  My son’s up top with one friend and a bunch of crazy-looking people I don’t know.  Among them is a tattooed lady in Harley Davidson assless (is that hyphenated?) chaps.  And she’s 72. (Shudder.)  Dave will be running up and down the ladder checking on both of the kids throughout the parade.  And I’ll be running behind the float trying to break my boy’s two-story fall with my body.

Well, that was my personal Facebook post today anyway.  (It’s a joke. And, yes, I know it was hiLARious!)

I will not really be chasing behind the float.  I will be at the end of the parade waiting with friends and family to see my little people on their inaugural float ride (read: rite of passage in these parts) and hoping to get their attention long enough for at least one blurry photograph. (Sniff.)

And we will be dashing straight from the parade (and its after-party) festivities to a Superbowl party.  Those of you who have been following along know I’m not a huge sports fan.  Of course, it would have been entirely different if the Saints were playing today. Sigh.

So, if you’re on Twitter and you’re sitting around today confused … or bored … or just seeking a laugh between plays, look for us on #footballforwomen.  It’s sort of like #shitgirlssay, football-style. And don’t be afraid to put in your (Kick it through the thing!! Kick it through the thing!! ) two cents.

Go … uh … team!