As part of “2013 Means Bigger Better Things”, I promised to showcase a blog posting from one reader every week. Here’s how YOU can be featured:
- Subscribe to my blog
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- Leave a comment on any of my blog postings
The blog I chose for this week was contributed by Karla Telega over at Telega Tales & Tart Cookies. She started stalking…I mean reading…my blog, so we swapped guest posts as part of the Judge’s recommendations when he signed the restraining order. Her hilarious posts remind me that if I can’t age gracefully, I can at least make fun of myself while I do it!
Beer, beads, and boobs
by Karla Telega
On February 12, we celebrate the last day of drunken debauchery before the 40 days of crushing depression known as Lent. You don’t have to spring for tickets to New Orleans in order to earn a drunk and disorderly. However, Mardi Gras has certain universal requirements, which if done properly will guarantee you a mug shot in the local police blotter.
If you’re going to New Orleans, those of us who are newly old should stick to gorging themselves on the King Cake. While it’s true that this may send you into a diabetic coma, it is the least of the perils associated with the holiday.
I’ve long since completed the days of hard-drinking and passing out in my soup. A column in the obituaries of death by Jumbalaya is not how I want to go.
My reflexes are not what they used to be. New Orleans residents know that when people on the floats are throwing beads, you need to catch them midair. Don’t under any circumstances bend over to pick up those that dropped on the ground. Osteoporosis plus the arrival of the next float equals never playing the piano again.
Hell no!!! If I tried to wear a skimpy tank top, my nipples would already be peeking out from the bottom. Men who have been drinking vast quantities of beer do not need any encouragement from a close up of my aging cleavage to vomit on my shoes.
Where does that leave those of us for whom hot flashes are a distant memory? How are we supposed to enjoy the fine tradition of spending the night in a holding cell? This is where women have the advantage. Carrying a child the size of a watermelon for nine months will pretty much guarantee that you will pee in the streets every time you sneeze. Even though it’s blatant profiling, the cops are lining up to catch you in the act of public urination.
If it’s any consolation, you’ll be sharing a cell with 20 other women with runny noses and wet pants.
Karla Telega is the award-winning author of the humorous mystery, Box of Rocks. Her humor book, I Never Drove a Bulldozer / There’s a Hole in my Bucket List will be available April 1. You can join her for adventures in aging on her website, http://telegatales.com/wordpress
- C4W Member Profile: Karla Telega (c4women.wordpress.com)
- Throwing a Fun and Friendly Mardi Gras Party for Kids (personalcreations.com)
- Hosting a Festive Mardi Gras Party (redenvelope.com)
- The Spotlight’s On You! Vol 1:4 (crumbsnatchertales.com)