The 12 Days of Christmas – Cajun style
Day – 1: Dear Boudreaux, Tanks for da bird in da Pear tree. I fix it las’ night wit dirty rice. I doan tink da pear tree will grow in de swamp, so I swap it for a Satsuma.
Day – 2: Dear Boudreaux, Ya letta say ya sent two turtle doves, but all I got was two scrawny pigeons. Anyway, I mixed dem with Andouille and made some gumbo out of dem.
Day – 3: Dear Boudreaux, Why doan ya sent some crawfish. I’m tired of eating dem damn bird. I gave two of dose prissy French chickens to Marie Trahan over at Gras Bayou and fed da tird one to my dog, Phideaux. Marie needed some sparing partners fo her fightin’ roostah.
Day – 4: Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux! I told ya no more dern birds! Deez four – what ya call dem “calling birds” – were so noisy ya could hear dem all da way to Napoleonville. I used dere necks for my crab traps, and fed da rest of dem to da gatas.
Day – 5: Dear Boudreaux, You finally send something useful. I liked dem golden rings, me. I hocked dem at da pawn shop in Homa 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 damn birds, ya coonass 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, dough. I may stuff one of dem wit Oyster dressing on Christmas day
Day – 7: Dear Boudreaux, I’m gonna wring yo fool neck next time I see ya. Thibodeaux, da mailman, is ready to kill ya. Da merde from all dem birds is stinkin’ up his mailboat. He afraid someone will slip on dat stuff and sue him good.
I let dose seven swans loose ta swim on de bayou and some duck hunas from Mississippi blasted dem out of da water. Talk to ya tomorrow.
Day – 8: Dear Boudreaux, Poor ole Thibodeaux had to make tree trips on his mail boat to deliver dem 8 maids a milkin and dier cows. One o dem cows got spooked by da gatas and almost tipped over de boat. I doan like dem shiftless maids, me no. I tolt dem to get to work guttin fish and sweeping da 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? — Thibodeaux had to borrow da Lutcher ferry to carry dem jumpin twits ya call Lords-a-Leaping across da bayou. As soon as dey gots here dey wanted a tea break wit crumpets. I doan know what dat means but I says, “Well La Di Da. Ya get Chicory coffee or nuttin.”
Mon Dieux, Emile. What I’m gonna feed all dese bozos? Dey too snooty fo fried nutria, and da cows ate my turnip greens.
Day – 10: Dear Boudreaux, You got to be out yo mind!
If da mailman don’t kill ya, I will fo sho!! Today he delivered 10 half nakid floozies from Bourbon Street. Dey say dey “Ladies Dancin” but dey doan act like ladies in front of dose Limey twits. Dey 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
Day – 11: Dear Boudreaux, Where Y’at. Cheerio and pip pip. Yo 11 pipers piping arrives today from da House of Blues, second lining as dey got off da boat. We fixed stuffed 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 wit da floozies.
Da old mailman Thibodeaux jumped off of da Sunshine Bridge yesterday, screaming yo name. If ya get a mysterious, ticking package in da mail — don’t open it!!
Day – 12: Dear Boudreaux, I’m sorry to tell ya but I am not yo true love no-mo. After da fais-do-do, I spent da night with Jacque, da head piper. We decided to open a restaurant and gentleman’s club on da bayou.
The floozies pardon me, Ladies dancing, can make $20 for a table dance, and da lords can be waiters and valet park de boats. Since da maids have no mo cows to milk, I trained dem to set my crab traps, watch my trotlines and run my shrimping business. We’ll probably gross a million dollas next year.
Finis!
Joyeaux Noel–Merry Christmas and may Papa Noel follow da bonfires tru de byu and find yo homes on Christmas Eve!
Merry Christmas…Yall
ridersblock 