Dear Mardi Gras King Cakes,

10 Mar

Along with other strange New Orleans/Mardi Gras traditions of voo-doo, near death intoxication, pissing in public places, and horribly trashy boob flashing (yeah, I’ve done it- WHAT?!? I was 20 and binge drinking for the first time ever. It all made sense at the time.), I recently learned about your King Cakes. This tradition is equally as meaningless as the rest of them, but did insprire a pretty funny conversation with my co-worker, Luke.

I need to explain Luke before I launch into the conversation. He is a co-worker who I steadily prod for data that I need to write my reports. We generally exchange information over an inter-office chat program similar to those you would see on yahoo… even though we sit right next to eachother and are only seperated by a thin carpeted partition. It’s silly, but it is the intorverted nature of anaylsts where we work. Also, it makes for easy copy and pasteing of data. However, during lulls in the workday, the conversations sometimes turn into philosophy, gripeing, or other brain-dead banter. Luke is a younger college student who is fun to debate with and has many interesting takes on life. He is also the king of hillarious metaphors and shares my annoyance with the rest of the f*ck-tards we work with. I assume dearlifeofmine readers will hear a few more conversations from Luke.

Anyway, Back to you Mr. King Cake. You inspired a conversation via chat the other day that I feel deserves recognition because it made me laugh aloud. To other co-workers this laughter was unprovoked and yet anohter reason to call me crazy behind my back. What a fun game. Here’s how I learned of the existance of the Mardi Gras, King Cake tradition:

Me: Um hello? Do you have my location?

Luke: Do you know what a King Cake is?

Me: No, But it sounds delicious!

Luke: It’s these cakes that everyone in New Orleans makes for Mardi Gras. They have a tiny plastic baby doll inside them somewhere, whoever gets the peice with the baby is considered lucky.

Me: Sounds like a drunkard tradition…about right for New Orleans.

Luke: It’s a fun, silly tradition, but they suddenly stopped doing it. People are STARTING to think the babies create a choking hazard. The babies are typically 2 – 2.5 inches long though..?!?

Me: Why do they call it a King Cake and not a baby cake?

Luke: Just dont give it to your kid until they know how to F*cking chew! It’s not like you’re not going to notice a 2 inch plastic baby in your peice of cake.

Me: LMAO! But, people in N.O aren’t that smart you know.

Luke: maybe so…

Me: You would at least find it with the knife when you cut. Anyway, are we side barring again?

Luke: Hahaha. Well, King Cakes are definately not work related.

Me: So, was there something metaphorical about all this?

Luke: haha. I can think of something…

Me: LOL. I’m sure you can

Luke: Babyless King Cake? That’s like a bananna split without ice cream…It’s just a F*cking bananna. Or a tenessee red-neck working a high paying, white-collar job on the East Coast. That’s just a soccer dad. (this is a reference to a dumb co-worker)

Me: haha. Nice reference. It could just be ice cream too, which is still pretty damn good. But without the baby in the cake, theres no luck…so you’re screwed.

Luke: haha

Me: They could also make the baby bigger…so you just have a full size fetus in your cake (Barf).

Luke: LMAO

Luke: I guess the other solution is to serve the baby on the side…

Me: hmmm I’ll have a slice of chocolate with fetus on the side for luck. Cause you don’t want to choke on lucky fetuses…cause thats not lucky at all.

Me: (minutes later) Too far?

SO mr. King Cake…thank you for that visual. Yuck. And for the record, I’m sorry for all the cracks about the intelligence level in your home town of New Orleans. I dated a dummy from New Orleans when I was younger. Also, can I just say that it is time to stop getting so much attention for a flood that happened forever ago? Oh – and congrats on your super bowl win. Also, if you decide to make your babies bigger and serve them on the side of your cake, you owe me gratitude payments. That would make me the brains behind your multi-milion dollar industry that sells people the idea of luck. Only people cant choke on my luck. It’s special, safe luck. On the side of cake. I don’t know.

Okay, the end.

Love,
Kelly

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3 Responses to “Dear Mardi Gras King Cakes,”

  1. TheIdiotSpeaketh March 11, 2011 at 12:49 am #

    Smart guy u work with! Always good to have a buddy to banter with…. I’ll take a slice….hold the fetus please… 🙂

    • dearlifeofmine March 11, 2011 at 1:22 am #

      Hehe. The whole convo was so ridiculous and politically incorrect…I had to share. haha

  2. apieceofthepiehole March 15, 2011 at 8:44 pm #

    A baby Jesus fetus almost killed me once when I choaked on it. Damn the weird tradition of King Cake! Thanks for the good laugh!

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