Debauchery at it's best.

I am not a drunk, do not show my boobs to random strangers in hopes of getting beads, and I'm on wieght watcher's. Which makes it difficult to do much of anything during the mardi gras season. You would also think the fact that I live in a tiny town in northern Idaho would make matters all the worse, but you'd be wrong. Tonight I danced in my underwear on stage with a blowup doll as a part of a show where lots of other people were in their underwear or singing about their underwear or the parts therein. We brought the house down. I had an absolute blast, got some beads without having to show anyone my tits and did not drink any alcohol (not that it wasn't plentiful). After the show it was very cold, so I did what any logical person would do. I proceeded to walk across the street in my underwear with my blow up doll and got asked if i was "looking for a replacement" for the doll. I then proceeded to do the club dance floor thing for an hour and a half straight. By the end of the night I was worn out with a big fucking grin on my face and still prancing around in my underwear. This is what mardi gras sin and debauchery is supposed to be all about--alcohol or no alcohol...