Drink Recipe Ingredients:

• 1 oz. Stirrings Triple Sec Liqueur
• 0.5 oz. Bulleit Bourbon (25 oz. per bottle)
• 2.5 oz. lemonade
• serving size-1

MARDI GRAS in New Orleans- nuf said. If you’ve never been… Sorry, your life is seriously incomplete. If you have, then you know the debauchery and extreme fun associated with the glorious religious holiday. The last hoorah for Catholics before they start lent, in which they give up something for ummm 40 days? Went to Catholic school growing up, like a good southern girl, but i may need to brush up on my history.

This year my brother, who is rather gorgeous, joined me and my gay husband there in NOLA (the funnest most best city EVER) for the holiday. Our family had decided to take the Mardi Gras holiday and drive down to the beach in Florida, which was major conflict for me, as I am a girl who likes to work on her tan on every single occasion I can. So the plan: party in NOLA for the night then instead of sleeping there, drive straight to the beach… (Stupid,Stupid,Stupid!!)

To recap the night… My brother brought his Australian, crazy ass, girlfriend- I am a saint compared to this girl, really; my gay husband introduced my brother to his first gay bar experience, where he was a fairly good sport- even slipped the stripper a couple dollars with our prodding, Mel(the gf) showed more tit than half of Bourbon Street, and I lost my earrings, got my hair pulled, and a couple of bruises from fighting over beads people were throwing at Mel. Man, she was ruthless… Hilarious.

So the night ended, or at least for us it did, and of course we found some hole on the wall pizza by the slice joint in some dark alley off of Bourbon… My fav drunk food. We made our way to the car for our 3 1/2 hr drive… Yes, looking back it was not a good idea… At all.

I drove, because my brother was throwing up, and Mel is not even a freaking citizen so she was out. After pulling over several times for my brother to throw up, we were on our way, to the beach… 3 asses.. With a plan…

I was okay, really, I had walked much of my buzz off before we even got to the car, but when we hit Mississippi, I was tired, and with everyone else in the car sleeping soundly/passed out, I was having a hard time. I pulled over a couple times, loaded up on coffee, chocolate, cigarettes, and sunflower seeds- anything I could do to stay awake, and nothing worked, so I woke Mel up- I needed someone to keep me up.

We were in mid conversation when I accidentally went over in the other lane (just barely guys, I swear). Well my shitty ass luck, it is a police- behind me… Not kidding, and no sooner as I noticed it was a cop car his lights came on behind me…

“Oh. Shit.”

I pull over slowly, scared shitless. I had after all drank several hurricanes out of what looked like medical supply bottles…(don’t ask) and my bro was passed out in the back seat. Not a good situation. I rolled my window down as I saw the officer approach the car.

“License and insurance please,” he was a semi cute younger policeman, with a thick country accent. I handed him my license and fumbled through the glove compartment for the insurance (which I never found p.s.). He walked away form my car back to his. I shook the shit out of my brother, still nothing, my heart was beating out of my chest. I saw him walking to the car, I had put Mel on a mission to sniff the insurance cards out, I tried to make myself look more presentable.

“ma’am can you blow on this for me please,” and he held up the breathalyzer thingy to my window. My heart dropped, I sat for a moment contemplating.

“Nah,” I shook my head, ” I’m not gonna blow in that.”. Brass balls in these panties- for sure.

“Oh, you’re gonna blow in it, or you’re going to jail tonight.”. Damn, now that he put it like that… But no, because my lawyer friends’ voice was echoing in the back of my mind

- “never blow Angie, just tell them to take you to jail, they will take you anyway if you blow over the limit…”

Yeah, thanks Don, but when you are in the situation it is much harder to look an Alabama State Trooper in the face and basically tell him to go to he’ll, especially sober(which I was guys).

I just kept shaking my head no, he asked me to get out of the car, and I complied, in my big fuzzy house slippers, but still in my clubbing clothes. I walked the line humiliated as he barked out orders at me

“Don’t Laugh”

“Stand up straight”

“1 Mississippi… 2 Mississippi…”

It was all bananas. My brother woke up as I was putting my finger on my nose, needless to say he was a little concerned. Sargent Baur-something or another and I had a 45 min standoff outside there on the highway in Alabama, with the red dirt. He was like a salesman, trying to sell me on blowing in that thing. At one point he even told me if I blew over the limit he wouldn’t take me in… Okay now I’m not an idiot. It became quite comical and I couldn’t believe how nonchalant I was about the situation. I was prepared to go to jail, I had never been, and it would make for one hell of a story, so why not?

Finally after much begging and pleaded I offered up a solution, “you blow on it first,” I motioned for him to do it as I giggled a little, by this time I had already checked out his empty ring finger and thought about trying a different angle (bj in the backseat… Just kidding, but if it would work…)

“I can’t do that ma’am,” he replied taken aback by the suggestion, “I only have this one tube and you would have to put your mouth on it.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind blowing after you,” me now in full on flirt mode, Mel shot me a disbelieving look. “Okay, well let him blow in it,” I motioned to the backseat at my trashed brother.

He sat straight up, “I’ll blow in it,” and Sargent so and so obliged him letting him blow. He blew like .02 which is like .06 under the limit.

Armed with this info, I decided to blow, “bring your thingy over here, I’ll blow it,” Mel giggled to herself. The officer put it in front of me and sure enough I was UNDER the limit (holla! Told ya!). I was so excited I asked Sargent so and so for a hug, which he dutifully declined, and he let us go… To the beach! Needless to say, we were ALL wide awake the rest of the ride!

Moral of the story: never Mardi Gras and drive..

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