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 maded 
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 
think 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.
(Is this Mr.  Lucky's in Morgan City?????)  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.

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