happy holidays everyone...
christal underwood-washington
hammond, la


>
>
> Twelve days of Crissmus in de bayou....
>
> 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 andouille an 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 dose prissy French chickens to Marie
> Trahan over at Grans Bayou an fed the tird one to my dog Phideaux. Marie
> needed some sparing partners for her fighting rooster.
>
> Day 4: Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux! I tol you no more friggin birds. Deez
> four, what you call dem "calling birds" were so noisy you could hear dem
> all de way to Napoleonville. I used dere necks for my crab traps, an fed
> de 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 got enuf
> money to fix da shaft on my shrimp boat an buy a round for da boys at de
> 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 gaeases. He tried
> to eat dems eggs and dey peck de heck out ah his snout. Dey 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 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 and almost tipped over da boat. I doan
> like dem shiftless maids, me no. I tolt dem to get to work guttin fish
> and sweepinq the shack but dey say it wasn't in dair contract. Dey
> probably tink dey 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 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
> Chicory coffee or nuttin." Mon Dieu, Emile. What I'm gonna feed all dese
> bozos? Dey too snooty for fried nutria, and de cows done eat my turnip
> greens.
>
> Day 10: Dear Boudreaux, You got to be outs you mind! If de mailman don't
> 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 wasn't
> good enuf fer dose hoity toity Lords' royal behin.
>
> Day 11: Dear Boudreaux, where y'at? Cheerio an pip pip. Your 11 pipers
> piping arrives today from the House of Blues, second lining as dey got
> off de boat. We fixed snuffed goose and beef jambalaya, finished da
> whiskey and we having a fais-do-do. 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 fais-do-do, I spent de night with Jacque, de head
> piper. We decide to open a restaurant and gentleman's club on de bayou.
> The floozies, pardon me, Ladies dancing can make $20 for a table dance,
> and de Lords can be waiters an valet park de boats. Since de maids doan
> have no more cows ta milk, I trained dem ta set my crab traps, watch my
> trotlines, an run my shrimping business. We will probably gross a million
> clams nex year.
>
> Thanx/Later/Bye/sinc/etc,etc
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
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