a wee bit of a Plea (subtite = capitals letters are fun)
Today is known as Mardi Gras or "Fat Tuesday." Sometimes Shrove Tuesday if you feel like sounding priggish. If you've haven't figured out by now that I'm not a prig...well then you're probably one of the dozens who find this site every day off of google searches for Lemon Party. And then you get special dispensation because you're most likely a pervert. No worries though, mate, we don't care how you find us just as long as you read and learn. As for the rest of you, the regulars, well I don't really need to say anything as you're regulars.

To clear something up from recently, I am not what is commonly referred to as a racist. I am realist, I understand the obvious independence of skin color, gender, etc. and other aspects like hair color, height, and tolerance for cold. Oh wait those things are connected. Silly me. But blacks aren't less intelligent than whites from any inborn incompetence; statistics to that effect are the result of class and upbringing rather than eugenics. And of course there's the classic doctrine on the three classes of lies (lies, damn lies, and statistics).

It appears I've gotten off track. That tends to happen. Especially on these special holiday entries. Are they entries? Perhaps update is more appropriate today. Well in case you haven't discovered it yet: there isn't going to be any blogging related content today. Ever so sorry. But that's the way the cliche becomes trite. Or perhaps that's the way the pithy bon mot becomes a trite cliche. I'll have to think, meditate, ruminate, cogitate, and generally consider.

Okay, Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday. (Editorial Aside: I do indeed realize that these are technically sentence fragments. I have, in fact, used many sentence fragments here on Lemon Party and I intend to continue. I usually try to keep my diction conversational, with a healthy dollop of supercilious ten cent words. This not quite sentence sentences form a critical part of the impression I'm trying to craft, much like my use of contractions. So when I insult you for misspellings and blatant grammatical misspelling don't think you can retaliate by pointing at these fragments. And as to beginning sentences with conjunctions, suffice to say that anyone who managed to complete the eigth grade should understand that that is not a rule but an aid for unskilled scribblers. End Editorial Aside. Or [/Editorial Aside] if you prefer vbCode) Back on topic after that lengthy parenthetical that most likely should have been an endnote (No, not a footnote, there is a difference). Mardi Gras is known for a certain exchange of goods and/or services, services of somewhat ill repute. Specifically I refer to the removal clothing in exchange for brightly colored beads. This practice has most likely arisen from the tradition of getting stinking drunk on Mardi Gras. That tradition most likely stems from mankind's somewhat counterintuitive joy in self-destruction and self-deception. Regardless I'm all for it. Except when the shirt-lifting (or other form of clothing removal) brings to mind the phrase "Fat Tuesday." If you're fat or otherwise physically unattractive I respectfully request that you keep your clothing on, at least as long as I'm within sight. Yeah. That's really it. If you're ugly stay dressed and preferably far from me and the rest of Lemon Party. Oh, and get wasted.



Remember the guiding light, lest we forget the glory that be Lemon Party.
Because your blog sucks.
- posted by Odovaucer @ 10:28 PM