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But it’s all in the name of good fun and Spanish Town debauchery.

His blow-up beauty is named Nicky, and the mannequin is known as—what else?—Paris. After the hurricanes last fall, the dolls embraced each other on the balcony of Applegate’s Government Street warehouse, holding a sign that appropriately screamed, “Kiss My A-- Katrina!”

David Applegate dressed as Uncle Jesse. His warehouse on Government is a staging ground for satire and the parade.

Inside the warehouse there’s also a gallery of old Spanish Town Mardi Gras relics from his parade group, “Wasted Krewe.” The gallery includes a few incriminating items, which is why it can’t officially be dubbed a museum.

Most of all, Applegate’s warehouse is the annual birthplace of dozens of those ubiquitous Mardi Gras flamingos. Every year, members from most of the parade’s krewes show up with power tools, sheets of plywood, gallons of pink paint and a horde of liquor to help carve out their legacy.

“We tell everyone to count their fingers when they show up, and to count them again before they leave,” Applegate says.

After all, without fingers, how would krewe members manage to hand beads down to parade-goers? Applegate, unfortunately, probably has an answer for that as well.