It’s Carnival time. For most of you ladies (& men), that means hardcore cleansing, dieting and working out. For me, Carnival “preparation” (or lack thereof) has somehow become the exact opposite. Not only is it backwards, it is highly not recommended. And seeing that bacchannal time is SO SOON, I figure it’s only fair that everyone know exactly what NOT to do.

My recent facebook post has made me realize that with only a day away until I land in Port of Spain, Trinidad, there’s an uneasiness growing inside of me that only the right combination of rum and soca can quell.

That said, here’s how I’ve been training to roam the streets half naked of Port of Spain  –

Note: These items are (sadly) based on a true story.

1. Discover the magical taste of peanut butter & bacon on toasted bread.

Think about that for a second.

Yep. Thank you Kat, my life will never be the same.

2. Pig out at the biggest Yelp event of the year.

Sorry, but how does one turn down free booze and delicious food? One. does. not.

Oh right, and naked taped bitches were there too.

 3. Skip the gym.

After all, my shiny new Solid State Drive (SSD) isn’t going to install and play with itself, right?

4. Grow out your hair.

What? I thought having long hair would cover me and my fatness. So far it has only made me look like a straggly old, catlady rapist. Welp.

5. Stay indoors and hide from the warm, beautiful, Miami sunshine.

And believe me, I realize how ridiculous that sounds, but it’s the truth. I didn’t plan it…it just sort of happened. I do, however, fully expect to hear, “Whiteness. Weh mi sunglasses deh?” as I pass every Mocha-coloured person on the street.

It’s not that I’m maad…this is just the equivalent of me going on a “diet” and figuring my shit out.

So if you see me in Trinidad, you’ll know exactly why my “belly nuh bang.” And sure, at the first fete I’ll feel like an Ogre in a Carnival riddled with gorgeously tanned ethnic Barbies.  But if I somehow manage to only run into you on the very last day of road march, I’ll be the one slurring, “fuck those gorgeously tanned ethnic Carnival barbies” mid wine. The good news is that everyone will be far too inebriated to give a raas. I’m counting on that.

Buuuut to all those who actually have been working out and eating right, you’re fucking amazing. Now go tell that to yourself in the mirror, relax and have a peanut butter & bacon sammich. I’m proud of you for doing what I can’t. Cheers to your abs!

Also, if you want to meet up let me know! I’ll be the one playing mas (jumping Tribe), in a skimpy costume of jewels and feathers, all lathered up in a bodysuit of Tiger Balm.