Nothing beats Mardis Gras for sheer balls-on, tits-aflyin’, beer-soaked brain-dead revelry – the kind Grandfather used to brag about.  Tradition.

Nobody captures the atmosphere like Albedo Productions, who apparently have a round-the-clock tag-team of cameramen hell bent on capturing every single minute of exposed breast, every domestic or imported fart and every wobbly march down Bourbon Street.

Ah, tradition.  Not so long ago the ladies would dance on balconies and flash the crowds below with a mouth-watering tease of exposed mammaries.  Now, the ‘90s give way to a new phenomenon, where curbside female flashing of any sort- butts, boobs, or pubes – are rewarded for their services.  So when a girl with more gaudy baubles dangling around her neck than Mr. T approaches, her camera shyness isn’t in question.

Tape 1 is mainly a daytime warm-up for the next two volumes of evening parties, building into an exponential jiggle show of staggering proportions.  The liner notes suggest 600 semi-naked women; an accounting job from heaven – retentives, have pencil and paper ready.

The Albedo gang manage to lure their prey into back alleys where it appears that one out of four collegiates these days have at least one tattoo near the breast, and another right above the pudendum, like a fleshy Thomas Guide to the hottest spots of New Orleans.

Two of the least inhibited girls, Rebecca and Deirdre, are open-minded enough to allow the crew to accompany them to their hotel rooms for a completely explicit game of shower, show and tell.  It’s traditions like this that make America great!