And here I was thinking it was scotch.....
«Please John don't leave me ..pleasee... Don't throw me out... pleaseeee....at least let me go in to use the bathroom..»John opens the door and delivers a glass...
hohohoWhen I think of Mardi Gras, I think of just this.
That's easy. The homeowner has toenail fungus, it's a trusted and well known remedy used by millions, that urine cures it, and a door-to-door urine salesPERSON left their order on the stoop, and left the suitcase as they went 'round the corna' to pee into more jars for more custamas! Very busy at the beginning of toenail fungus season, y'all. I look forward to spring, and the familiar blue suitcase carried by my trusted urine salesPERSON, for this very reason.
I have no idea what's going on here but now I have to pee.
sh*t in a suitcase?
Well, that just about sums it up. That picture speaks volumes.
A good time was had by some.
A company sent a King Cake to Miss J's work for Fat Tuesday. As Miss J ate her slice, and bit into the baby Jebus inside, this was the exact image evoked.
So that's where I left my piss jar...
There was a year when I was living in the French Quarter when I hurled someone's suitcase out if the front door of my home during Mardi Gras. His bag wasn't much better than that one.
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