To: Alan Whirlwind who wrote (24275 ) 12/14/1998 9:10:00 PM From: IngotWeTrust Respond to of 116994
Alan/Bill: This=ON/T.(deals w/5 Au Rings) Laffed til mah sides ached! Enjoy! 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS ON THE BAYOU > > Day 1 - Dear Boudreaux, > Thanks for da bird in da Pear Tree. I fixed it las' night with > dirty rice. I doan think a 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 sparring 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 day 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 someting useful. I liked dem golden rings, me. > I hocked dem at da pawn shop in Thibideaux and got enuf money > to fix da shaft on my shrimp boat and buy a round for daboys at > da Raisin' Cane Lounge. Merci beaucoup! > > Day 6 - Dear Boudreaux, > Couchon! Back to da birds, you coonass turkey! Poor egg > suckin' Phideaux is scared to death at dem six geeses! He > tried to eat dems eggs and dey peck da heck out ah his snout! > They good at eatin' cockroaches, though. I may stuff one of > dem wit erster dressing on Christmas Day. > > Day 7 - Dear Boudreax, > 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 Tibeau had to mak tree trips on his mailboat to deliver > dem 8 maids a' milkin and dere 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 tink they too good ta skin Nutrias I > caught last night. > > Day 9 - Dear Boudreaux, > What you tryin' to do, huh? Thibeau had to borrow the Lutcher > ferry to carry dem jumpin twits you call Lords A Leapin across > the Bayou. As soon as dey gots here they wanted a tea break > wit "crumpets." I doan know what dat means but I says, "Well > La Di Dah. You get Chicory coffee or nuttin'." Mon Dieux, > Emile. What I gonna feed all dese bozos? Dey too snooty for > fried nutria, and the cows ate my turnip greens. > > Day 10 - Dear Boudreax, > 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 dey > don't act like ladies in front of dem Limey twits. They almost > left after one of dem got bit by a Water Moccasin over by de > 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 behinds. > > Day 11 - Dear Boudreax, > 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 stuffed goose and beef jambalaya, > finished off 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 dancin wid da floozies. The old mailman jumped > off of the Sunshine Bridge yesterday, screaming your name. > If you get a mysterious package in de mail, don't open it! > > Day 12 - Dear Boudreax, > 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 gentlemans' club on the > bayou. The floozies, pardon me, Ladies Dancin', 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 > shrimpin' business. We will probably gross a million dollars next > year. Au revoir, you coonass...and Merry Christmas.