Sadly, the most recent post is from 2010, and a number of the linked videos have since expired, so who knows how long the blog's delicious contents will survive out on the ethernet?
A couple of my favorites from Chuval's list of 39 things Cajuns like:
#2 Lent
Cajun people love Lent, the 40 days of repentance and fasting that lead up to Easter. More specifically, Cajun Catholics love lent, but since the majority of Cajuns are Catholic, I’ll use the two interchangeably. Forty days may sound like a lot of sacrifice, but after the pure debauchery of Mardis Gras kicks off the Lenten season, Cajuns actually need 40 days of repentance and fasting, and there’s nothing Cajun people love more than asking each other “What did you give up?”. Mostly we give up small things like chocolate, candy, or swearing, but some crafty Cajuns build loopholes right into their penance like “I gave up all candy but chocolate.”
Each Friday during Lent, Catholics are asked to give up meat, and only eat seafood. This is the equivalent of asking a child to skip dinner and only eat dessert. Sure, we may put on a pained expression, but how miserable can a Cajun be when he’s shoving seafood gumbo or crawfish etoufee down his gullet?
Sure, the whole Jesus-dying-on-a-cross thing might be a downer, but everything else about Lent is all good.
Bullfrogs in St. Martinville, Louisiana |
#39 New Orleans Saints, or: Nobody, Dat's Who!
Man, I thought I wuz done with dis bloggin’ stuff. Thought dere wasn’t anything else good to write about. And dat was mostly true, until the other day dat is. See, cuz dat’s when this funny little thing happened. You might have heard about it. You know, when dem SAINTS WON THE WHOLE DAMN SUPERBOWL!!! Wooooo Hooooo!!! WHO DAT? WHO DAT? Nobody, DAT’s Who All You Hatin’ Couyons!!! Oh pooh yaille, I gotta sit down now.
Mais, if you not a Saint’s fan, then I’m sorry cher. I’m not tryin’ to gloat or nothin’. Dis long-time Saints fan knows what it’s like to be handed an ass whupping, and it don’t feel too good no. I’m jus celebratin’ cause I’m happy like a guy who shot a 20 point buck on his wedding day.
Now, I’m not of those guys who likes to take credit for the winning of others, but you should know that me and my old lady and my cuz T-Boy prayed the rosary between plays (and sips of Natural Light). And when we was down by 10, I started bargaining with the big guy himself. I was like, ‘Come on Brah, you know we need this. I tell you what – you give us this one and we promise to give up drinkin’ an cussin’ for Lent’. My wife and Cuz, they shot me a face, but I told dem that’s the way it’s gonna be. And not too long after that, the Saints, they come back and the rest is histoire. Why, dis ole boy got so caught up celebrating that night I even picked up a few crunkin moves. Things, they got so crazy, I laid a big kiss on Cuz’s lips by accident. It was a little bit uncomfortable after dat, but then he punched me in the mouth and called me a big sissy and that was that.
Outsiders say dis makes up for Katrina, but I don’t know what these couyons are talking about, cause this has nothing to do with Katrina. Ain’t no Superbowl fairy gonna come fly down and rebuild all dem houses that got all flooded and stuff. We all a lil bit happier these days, but dat doesn’t mean it’s all good.
From now on, I’m hostin’ a Saints Superbowl party every year. Everybody’s invited! And if my Saints not in it, that’s ok, we’ll just play dis one again (I got a copy for my video player). My house, my rules.
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