We recently heard about a band of boozy brothers who are doing their best to wreak havoc at the infamous Mardi Gras celebrations this year.

We decided to ask these brave travelers to represent us in the trenches -- who better to party for Asylum than a bunch of average guys who, once a year, bust their asses to have above-average adventures?

Member John Corrigan tells their story and shares the details of our Bourbon Street engagement.

It all started on a plane from Munich back to Washington, D.C. After having just spent the weekend ravenously drinking with 60 of my closest friends at Oktoberfest, the conversation turned to, believe it or not, the subject of "What else can we do?"

Just the thought of hitting another of the world's over-the-top parties didn't sit well with me. I was only hoping to survive the rest of the flight without throwing up all over the guy next to me.

While wallowing in my hung-over misery, I was visited by my brother-in-arms, Johnny Tack (name withheld to preserve operational security), who suggested that our next endeavor should be to take on the legendary Mardi Gras festivities in New Orleans.

Amid dry heaves and attempts to remain breathing, I had no choice but to accept his insane proposition.

A year later, through various back-room handshakes and deals that would make Chicago politics look above board, Johnny Tack somehow secured our Brethren an invitation to ride in the Krewe of Tucks Parade during Mardi Gras weekend. Known as "The Mother of All Parades," this is a feat pretty much on par with climbing Everest.

Given our previous success in Munich, we were fairly confident that we could rally the same crew of 60. However, no one could have expected the tragedy that led to the demise of the elite ranks of the Brethren -- two well-known, equally elite and powerful insurgent forces known as Girlfriend and Wife decimated our defenseless band of brothers. We were soon left with 35 fewer men. Despite our utter devastation, we were forced to carry on without them.

As it turns out, the forces of the universe were kind to us after all -- they have arranged so that our arrival in New Orleans coincides with the Saints' Super Bowl celebration.

If you want to link up with our brothers, and try to fill the missing voids left by our fallen heroes, we will be on the balcony at 423 Bourbon Street on Friday, Feb. 12 from 2–8 p.m. Just look for the Asylum sign.

Saturday, we ride at high noon. Just look for the obscenely large Friar Tuck float (pictured left) with a large group of merry men wearing Monk robes throwing copious amounts of beads to the masses.

John Corrigan will soon be dangling from the edge of a balcony and Bourbon Street. He also writes about his adventures on Travels of John.