I love Fat Tuesday. I mean, on no other day does the world say, "Go ahead, eat and drink and be merry like it's the last day you'll get to let loose...at least for the next 40 days." (Except if you count Thanksgiving, which has less debauchery involved. Or Easter, which is mostly chocolate and egg based.)
Tonight I've opted for extra crispy fried chicken and red bean and rice from a fast-food joint. I don't ever eat fast food and never eat fried chicken, so this will be quite the treat. A big, greasy, gut-busting treat. And after that? Well tomorrow Lent begins and with it a hardcore push to lose the final lingering pounds of baby weight. To boot, The Banker and I are cutting out alcohol Mondays through Thursdays. This will be quite the feat, because in this house wine is kinda like toilet paper--if we run out, people get panicky.
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