Jambalaya!

First, I so need to go on The World Series of Pop Culture. I'm recruiting a team right now, and will take whoever comes up with the best team name. I'd prefer a 90210 reference, but am willing to consider anything.

I was going to go with "8 Year Olds, Dude," but I'm afraid people will get the wrong idea.

I'm just pissed as hell that my sister, of all people, had a pub trivia team a few years back with what I'd most like to have gone with, "Lumberg Fucked Her." But I guess that's really too dirty for VH1 anyway.

So, what do you got, people?

As for my trip to New Orleans: FUN. The following happened, not necessarily in this order.

1) I innocently put my hand down on a branch to steady myself on a path leading down to a river (toobing is fun!), and wondered, when I pulled it away, why I was suddenly wearing a glove. FIRE ANTS!!!!!! I managed to only get bit four times, but let's just say I considered peeing on myself to ease the pain. I ended up peeing in my tube later on anyway, laughing so hard at the 18th beaver dam or whatever that we ended up ensnared in, but didn't manage to get my hand under there fast enough.

2) Shortly after arriving home from the toobing, was viciously attacked by a wasp. WTF, mates.

3) My sister got so drunk that she ended up refusing to tell our "designated" (as in, she was the least drunk) driver how to get home. She somehow blamed the entire debacle on me, which is, let's face it, entirely possible after 11 shots. Even if they were mostly chick shots.

4) Jambalaya at the Gumbo Shop = best Jambalya I've ever had. Granted, the only other jambalaya I'd had came in a pouch.

5) The Gumbo Shop also serves a frozen drink that, no lie, tastes precisely like Peppermint Stick ice cream............oh, sorry, I just peed a little. (It obviously don't take much.)

6) A rousing game of "I Never" at my brother-in-law's birthday party in which I learned things about my sister that, let's just face it, I cannot unlearn.

7) I cried in front of various gate agents in the Philadelphia airport.

8) Lost voice...gained seven pounds. I'm thinking my seven pound voice now resides in my ass.

All in all? Good times. Didn't meet any boys, but boys are dumb anyway. And it's kind of hard to fool around when your hand is swelled up with fire ant welts.

I'm on Day 3 of my latest attempt at detox. I expect to last until Saturday. At least I'm realistic this time...