Not back by popular demand, or anything, but it's Christmas, and the
"classics" deserve to be heard. Merry Christmas to autocrossers everwhere.
Larry Steckel
12 Days of Cajun Christmas
Day 1 :. Dear Boudreaux, Thanks for de bird in de pear tree. I fix it
las' night with dirty rice. I doan tink de pear tree will grow in de swamp,
so I swap it for a Satsuma.
Day 2 : Dear Boudreaux, You letter say you sent two turtle doves, but
all I got was two scrawny pigeons. Anyway, I mixed dem with andouile
an made some gumbo out of dem.
Day 3 : Dear Boudreaux, way doan you sent some crawfish? Im tired of
eating dem darn birds. I gave two of dose prissy French chickens to Marie
Trahan over at Gras Bayou an fed the tird one to my dog Phideaux. Marie
needed some sparring partners for her fighting rooster.
Day 4 : Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux! I tol you no more friggin birds! Deez
four, what you call them calling birds were so noisy you could hear them
all de way to Napoleonville. I used dere necks for my crab traps an fed the
rest of dem to de gators.
Day 5 : Dear Boudreaux, You finally sen somethin useful. I like dem golden
rings, me. I hocked dem at da pawn shop in Thibodeaux and go enuf money to
fix da shaft on my shrimp boat an buy a round for da boys a de RaisinCane
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 gaeases. He tried to eat
dems eggs and dey peck de heck out ah his snout. Dey good at eatin
cockroaches, though. I may stuff one of dem wit erster dressing on Chrismas
Day.
Day 7 : Dear Boudreaux, Im gonna wring your fool neck next time I
see you. Thibeau, da mailman, is ready to kill ya. 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
de bayou and some duck hunters from Mississippi blasted dem out of de
water. Talk to you tomorrow.
Day 8 : Dear Boudreaux, poor ole Thibeau, he 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 an almost tipped over da boat. I
doan like dem siftless maids, me no. I tot dem to get to work guttin
fish and sweeping the shack but dey say it wasnt in dair contract.
Dey probably think de too good ta skin nutrias I caught las night.
Day 9 : Dear Boudreaux, what you trying to do huh? Thibeau had to borrow
the Luther ferry to carry dem jumpin twits you call Lords a- Leaping
across the bayou. As soon as dey gots here dey wanted a tea break with
crumpets. I doan know what dat means but I says, Well La Di Da! You get
Chickory coffee or nutin. Mon Dieu, Emile, what am I gonna feed all dese
bozos? Dey too snotty for fried nutria, an de cows done eat my turnip
greens.
Day 10 : Dear Boudreaux, You got to be outs of you mind! If de
mailman dont kill you, I will fo sure! Today he deliver 10 half
nikid floozies from Bourbon Street. Dey said dey be ladies Dancin,
but dey doan act like ladies in front of dose Limey twits. Dey almos
left after one of dem got bit by a water moccasin over by da
out-house. I had to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde an had to
get toilet paper. The Sears Catalog wasnt good enuf for dose hoity
toity Lords royal behin.
Day 11: Dear Boudreaux, where yat? Cherrio and pip pip. Your 11
pipers piping arrives today from the House of Blues, second lining as
dey got off de boat. We fixed stuffed goose and beef jambalaya,
finished da whiskey and we having a fais-do-d0! Da new mailman he
drink a bottle of Jack Daniel an he having a good time yeah dancing
with de floozies. Thibeau he jump off de Sunshine Bridge yesterday,
screaming your name. If you get a mysterious, ticking package in de
mail, doan open it!
Day 12 : Dear Boudreaux, I sorry to tell ya but I not your true love
anymore, no. After da faisdo-do, I spnet de night with Jacque, de
head piper. We decide to open a restaurant and gentlemens club on de
bayou. The floozies, pardon me, Ladies dancing can make $20.00 for a
table dance, an de Lords can be waiters an valet park de boats. Since
de maids doan have no more cows ta milk, I trained dem to set my crab
traps, watch my trotlines, an run my sriping business. We will
probably gross a million clams nex year.
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