206¼ lb., 25.2% body fat

And it's only going to get worse...

The bandwagon is open.

You heard right, folks. The Saints bandwagon is officially open to all.

Unlike the private tortures Red Sox nation or White Sox nation set themselves under, refusing to allow the casual observer or passerby to join in their revelry after decades of heartache and untimely losses wrought by their favorite teams, Black and Gold nation, who has suffered through 40 years of futility, requires no such emotional dues to be paid.

Indeed, New Orleans is called the Big Easy for a reason. We are laid back. We do welcome all comers. Maybe not with leis like they do in Hawaii, but everybody is nice. We are an easy going people.

Just root for the Saints Sunday, and don't try to lure Tom Benson to move the team, and we'll take you and your kin in with open arms.

And get a fleur-de-lis king cake while you're here.

What's a king cake, you ask? Well, I'm glad you asked that.

I refer you to the ever-popular Wikipedia article explaining as such. What it won't tell you is that it (the cake) is about halfway between cinnamon roll and coffee cake, depending on how good a cake you've got. Me, I need to dry off after having stood out in a drizzle for 90 minutes at Randazzo's, waiting on a king cake.

If you get one, get a Randazzo. Gambino is good for the d'Auberge, but those who know around here, know to get a Randazzo.

Geaux Saints.

See you Sunday.

-KIE, who had BETTER not get a third consecutive baby in this cake.