I bet you Ormond gets the most beads, on account of his extraneous third nipple, which is on his chin and currently covered by a Goat-tee.

No-- its on account of his tuna can.

you guys are so fricking childish and moronic!
it's cause i'm a "backdoor" man

No, it because of, what did you call it? The shocker? and YOU are FRICKING childish and moronic. so Nah.

FYI, Butt, I didn't say nothin to nobody! Petey and Jules came up with this hashish all on their pretty owns. I didn't say nothin to nobody!
I didn't...
honest...
are you still bald?

well, i guess we all can guess who will be getting the fewest beads in NOLA. cause she smells like bile and stomach acid.... Biz, can you guess what jules tummy looks like? yea, rainbow of fruity flavors baby!

so Nah right back at you

hey guys...promise not to feed me two pitchers of beer with a basket of cheese fries, followed by several drinks at Fat Tuesdays that are named after tropical storms, followed by two slices of cheese pizza, followed by a Heineken.

It could get messy...

Why are we going to New Orleans? Because we're drunken idiots and gambling is legal on the water. We're trying to relive our youth by throwing beads at women flashing things at us. Good food, cajun music, swamp tours, and voodoo. Because you haven't lived until you've pissed on a wall and then been rolled by thieves. Because we did Vegas last year. Because Royboy's tunacan likes the humidity.

i'm coming already--buying tx tonite. f-ing travelocity sux big time so do half these damn websites.

 If you're happy and you know it--say New Orleans!
There was a farmer had a gator and N'Oleans was his name-o
Bizzy crack crawdads and I don't care! Bizzy crack crawdads and I don't care!
Donna be coming 'round the hurricane when she comes, she'll be coming 'round the hurricane when she comes....
Oh New Orleans, now don't you cry for Pete, he comes from Bostoniana with boogie shoes on his feet.
Oh where oh where has our little beer gone, oh where or where can it be?
Shoot! Its in New Orleans!

Alrighty gang, looks like we're approaching critical mass! My good friend from college, Mr. James Whitaker, will be gracing our group as well in NOLA. Ya'll can call him Whit, Jim, J, or lazy 1/2 Mexican (he really likes the latter, ariba!) Julie, you were hugging the toilet after an AGR party so I don't know if you remember him as one of my roommates. Let's try not to relive that memory this time around shall we?

CAN WE PLEASE LAY OFF THE JULES PUKING JOKES ALREADY????
my god! You'd think none of ya'll ever got wasted and rolled around in your own vomit. I was only 18 then. You should have been arrested for serving a minor--a young innocent minor. Shame on you. How many other young girls have you corrupted, huh? And Yes, I remember Whit! We met several times. Hey Whit, how's it going--long time no puke, I mean, see.

 Damn it! Sorry Whit, but howcome I always get stuck with stinky??? Huh? Ormond, if your feet stink as bad as they did in Albany, and you make the plane air reek, I swear to god I'll take you by the scary scruff on your chin and throw you down in cargo with the dogs and illegal Cuban immigrants. I'll do it, so don't test me, stink-bag.

My feet stink, but not as bad as Sal's freshman roommate did. Yea, Lumpy, that's the one