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in da bayou...dat is! Day - 1 Dear Boudreaux, Thanks for dat bird in da Pear tree.
I fixed it las' night with dirty rice. I doan tink da pear
tree will grow in the swamp, so I swapped it for a Satsuma.
Day - 2 Dear Boudreaux, Your letter say you sent two
turtle
doves, but all I got was two scrawny pigeons. Anyway, I
mixed them with andouille and made some gumbo out of dem.
Day - 3 Dear Boudreaux, Why doan you sent some
crawfish.
I'm tired of eating dem darn birds. I gave two of those
prissy French chickens to Marie Trahan over at Grans Bayou
and fed the tird one to my dog, Phideaux. Marie needed some
sparing partners for her fighting rooster.
Day - 4 Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux! I told you no more
friggin birds. Deez four, what you call them *calling
birds* were so noisy you could hear dem all da way to
Napoleonville. I used dere necks for my crab traps, and fed
da rest of dem to da gators.
Day - 5 Dear Boudreaux, You finally sent something
useful.
I liked dem golden rings, me. I hocked dem at da pawn shop
in Thibodeaux and got enuf money to fix da shaft on my
shrimp boat and buy a round for da boys at da Raisin' Cane
Lounge. Merci Beaucoup!
Day - 6 Dear Boudreaux, Couchon! Back to da birds, you
turkey! Poor egg suckin' Phideaux is scared to
death at dem six geeeses. He tried to eat dems eggs and dey
peck da heck out ah his shout. They good at eating
cockroaches, though. I may stuff one of dem wit erster
dressing on Christmas day.
Day - 7 Dear Boudreaux, I'm gonna wring your fool neck
next
time I see you. Thibeau, da mailman, is ready to kill you.
The merde from all dem birds is stinkin' up his mailboat.
He afraid someone will slip on dat stuff and sue him good.
I let those seven swans loose to swim on da bayou and some
duck hunters from Mississippi blasted dem out of da water.
Talk to you tomorrow.
Day - 8 Dear Boudreaux, Poor ole Thibeau had to make
tree
trips on his mailboat to deliver dem 8 maids a milkin and
their cows. One of dem cows got spooked by da alligators
and almost tipped over da boat. I doan like dem shiftless
maids, me no. I tolt dem to get to work guttin fish and
sweeping the shack but dey say it wasn't in dair contract.
Dey probably think they too good ta skin nutrias I caught
las night.
Day - 9 Dear Boudreaux, What you trying to do Huh?
Thibeau
had to borrow the Lutcher ferry to carry them jumpin twits
you call Lords-a-Leaping across the bayou. As soon as dey
gots here they wanted a tea break with crumpets. I doan
know what dat means but I says, *Well La Di Da. You get
Chicory coffee or nuttin.* Mon Dieu, Emile. What I'm gonna
feed all these bozos? They too snooty for fried nutria, and
the cows ate my turnip greens.
Day - 10 Dear Boudreaux, You got to be out of your
mind! If
da mailman don't kill you, I will for sure. Today he
delivered 10 half nakid floozies from Bourbon Street. They
said they be *Ladies Dancin* but they doan act like ladies
in front of dose Limey twits. They almost left after one of
dem got bit by a water moccasin over by my out-house. I had
to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde (everybody) and
get toilet paper. The Sears catalog wasn't good enuf for
dose hoity toity lord's royal behind.
Day - 11 Dear Boudreaux, Where Y'at. Cheerio and pip
pip.
Your 11 pipers piping arrives today from the House of
Blues, second lining as dey got off da boat. We fixed
snuffed goose and beef jambalaya, finished da whiskey and
we're having a fais-do-do. The new mailman drank a bottle
of Jack Daniels and he's having a good time dancing with
the floozies. The old mailman jumped off of the Sunshine
Bridge yesterday, screaming your name. If you get a
mysterious, ticking package in the mail, don't open it.
Day - 12 Dear Boudreaux, I'm
sorry to tell you but I am not
your true love anymore. After the fais-do-do, I spent da
night with Jacque, the head piper. We decided to open a
restaurant and gentleman's club on the bayou. The floozies,
pardon me, Ladies dancing can make $20 for a table dance,
and the lords can be waiters and valet park de boats. Since
the maids have no more cows to milk, I trained dem to set
my crab traps, watch my trotlines, and run my shrimping
business. We will probably gross a million dollars next
year.
Our sincere thanks to P-MAN for sending this in!
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! |
