Costumes, Booties and Boobs...Oh MY!

Intrepid first alerted me to the idea of Carmaval Brasileiro. Apparently Austin has been celebrating Mardi Gras like the Brazilians for 30 years, with costumes, drinking and wild dancing. And lots of semi-nudity. I had no idea. Intrepid is up for the adventure! After checking out the pictures on the website, LP and I decide to join him and his lady, The Divine Miss N, for the craziness. With us is Zorra, who is always ready for a good time, especially if it requires a sassy costume. At Carnaval, it's all about what you wear....or don't wear.

"I went to the mall thinking 'hoochie' and this skirt practically jumped off the rack at me!" Zorra announces, twirling in her short and sexy little number. She is also wearing high heeled dancing shoes, a wifebeater that says "Zorro" and a black mask. She looks hot and mysterious.

I decide to go for the bitchy prom queen look with a pink poofy dress, huge teased and hairsprayed hair, glittery eye shadow and a tiara that says "bitch." Not that I really need the tiara's label. Everyone knows I'm a beyotch. Or they will, once my foot is up their ass. And speaking of feet, I am wearing very cute pink sequined flip-flops. I'm a bitchy Floridian prom queen!

I beg LP to wear velcro pants, but he declines choosing instead to wear silver pants, a black wifebeater and mardi gras beads. He paints a silver mask on his face and also paints his nipples silver in case he has to show his boobies to get more beads.

I pop open a bottle of Freixnet champagne to get the party going. I am sure the word 'Freixnet' does not really sound like 'freaks net', but that is my preferred pronunciation. At around $10 a bottle, it's also my preferred champagne. Whenever I have a glass, I like to say that I'm getting my freak on. It's the little things, people. But I digress. LP, Zorra and I get our freak on, take some pictures and head out to meet more freaks.

We meet Intrepid (dressed as a trailer trash cowboy...a sexy look for him) and Miss N (dressed as a naughty school girl in a short plaid skirt and sporting pigtails) and head in. I spy Biggie Fries, who seems to have painted himself green, and a few others I know, but my attention is drawn away once the first dude in a loin cloth walks by. Hello Tarzan!

In the 45 minute drink line (UGH!) Zorra and I spot a guy wearing a long trench coat. He seems strangely overdressed, until we realize that he has a huge fake penis peeking out from the hem. Eek!!

The women's outfits are even wilder. Lots of interesting and colorful costumes with plenty of feathers and glitter. It's like Halloween on acid. Many of the ladies are topless, but have body paint adorned breasts. Some are wearing only a thong and a mask. I start to wonder if I am a little bit gay when I find myself staring at one half naked girl. She seems to have the perfect ass. I want to take a picture of it. I resist, but several of the guys near me don't. Camera phones capture the perfect ass and send it all over the world. The wonder of technology!

There is a band playing samba music, which basically sounds really happy and full of drumming. LP, Zorra and I hit the floor to dance our asses off. Intrepid and Miss N decide to watch the action from the bleachers. At some point we all join a conga line and end up trotting all over the dance floor in an insane party train.

We dance, drink and gawk at people for hours, until exhaustion overtakes me and I have to sit down. My cute flip-flops are cutting into my feet. For a while I try to count the number of boobs and butts I see, but I start to lose track. Then I get grossed out by some hairy backs. Men!! It's icky. Take the trip to Waxahachie, Grizzly Adams. Please, for the love of God.

I turn my thoughts away from nasty hirsutism to wonder what some of these half naked folks do in the daylight hours, sans masks. Are there any librarians at Carnaval? Oh I bet there are. Probably some accountants and lawyers, too. I also wonder if any of the party people are going to go on some sort of austere living plan for Lent and are partying to gear up for it. "As soon as I get all of this body paint off, I am going on a serious eating and exercise plan. And no more casual sex until Easter!" I can't think of anything I want to give up for Lent. I want it all, yo! This probably makes me a bad person. At least a bad Catholic. In case my Vegas marriage and subsequent divorce didn't do the trick...

After a while the colorful parade of people in front of me becomes overstimulating and I need to make a break for it before I end up curling in the fetal position under the bleachers. I collect LP and Zorra and we head out into the freezing cold night. As much as I admired the half-naked partyers, I am thankful that I have a pink, poofy prom dress to keep me warm.

Gigi 2.10.05