BACKUP - What you do when you run across a skunk in the woods
BAR CODE - Da fight'n rules down at City Bar
BUG - The reason you give for calling in sick
BYTE - What your pit bull dun to cuzin Thib
CACHE - Needed when you run out of food stamps
CHIP - Pasture muffins that you try not to step in
TERMINAL - Time to call the undertaker
CRASH - When you go to Hebert's party uninvited
DIGITAL - The art of counting on your fingers
DISKETTE - Female Disco dancer
FAX - What you lie about to the IRS
HACKER - Uncle Boudreaux after 32 years of smoking
HARDCOPY - Picture looked at when selecting tailgate art
INTERNET - Where cafeteria workers put their hair
KEYBOARD - Where you hang the keys to the John Deere
MAC - Thibodeaux's favorite fast food
MEGAHERTZ - How your head feels after 17 beers
MODEM - What ya did when the grass and weeds got too tall
MOUSE PAD - Where Mickey and Minnie live
NETWORK - Scoop'n up a big fish before it breaks the line
ONLINE - Where to stay when taking the sobriety test
ROM - Where the pope lives
SCREEN - Helps keep the skeeters off the porch
SERIAL PORT - A red wine you drink with breakfast
SUPERCONDUCTOR - Amtrak's Employee of the year
SCSI - What you call your week-old underwear
Last night, Boudreaux and Thibodeaux walked into City Bar and ordered a couple of drinks. They then took some sandwiches from paper bags they had brought with them and began to eat.
Seeing this, the angry bar owner approached them and says, "Excuse me, but you cannot eat your own sandwiches in here!"
Boudreaux and Thibodeaux looked at each other, shrugged, and exchanged sandwiches.
Clotile was driving home from one of her trips to New Orleans, and was passing through Cajun country as usual. She saw Marie walking on the side of the road. She stopped the car and asked Marie if she would like a ride.
Resuming the journey after Marie got in, Clotile made a bit of small talk with Marie. Marie just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Clotile.
"What's in the bag?" asked Marie.
Clotile looked down at the brown bag and said, "It's a bottle of wine. I got it for my husband."
Marie was silent for another moment or two.
Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder Cajun woman, she said: "Good trade . . ."
Thibodeaux was visiting with his friend, Boudreaux, one day just last week. Boudreaux asked Thibodeaux what he had been up to lately. Thibodeaux says, "Well, I just come back from Lafayette me."
"What were you doing in Lafayette mon ami?" asked Boudreaux.
"Well me, I went up dere to buy me a brand new hunting dog cher," replies Thibodeaux.
Boudreaux says, "Mais Thib, what's wrong with da hunting dogs from around here?"
Thibodeaux says, "Well, dis hunting dog him he can walk on water."
Boudreaux laughs, "Thibodeaux, you done got fooled yea you coullion. Hunting dogs dey can't walk on water no."
Thibodeaux says, "I'm telling you cher. My new hunting dog he can walk on water yea. You want to go see cher?"
So Boudreaux and Thibodeaux go out on the lake with Thibodeaux's brand new hunting dog. Pretty soon, Thibodeaux brings down a duck with his new twice barrel shootgun. The dog immediately walks out across the water, retrieves the duck, and comes back over to jump in the boat. Thibodeaux turns to Boudreaux, "So, now what do you tink about dat huh cher?"
Boudreaux replies, "Dat dog he can't swim, can he?"
Pierre and Boudreaux, dey was flyin Cajun Airlines to da Mardi Gras dem. Boudreaux was flying da plane and Pierre was in da back foolin wit da cargo equipment and sum udder stuff. Da plane hit some bad turbulence an started bouncin' around and Boudreaux he got knocked out unconscious him.
Den, da plane start driftin. Pierre come run up to da front and Boudreaux was sprawl out all over da sterrin wheel. Well, Pierre don't know nuttin bout flyin an he start to get panaky. He grab da microphone and holla, "May Day! May Day! Dis is Cajun Air Line 90210. Boudreaux him, he got knocked unconscious an I don't know nuttin about flyin dis plane!"
"Dis is da control tower," someone answered. It was Thibodeaux workin da air traffic dat day. "Don't you worry about nuttin. We gonna splain you how to land dat plane, step by step, ah gar-own-tee! Just leave erryting up ta us mon ami. First, how high you are, and what is you position?"
Pierre thaught for a minute, dan he say, "I'm five foot ten an I'm all da way to da front of da plane."
"No! No!" answered Thib in da tower. "What is you altitude, an where is you location?"
Pierre say, "Man, rat now ah got a po attitude, an ah'm from Thibodeaux, Laweezeeanna!"
"No! No!" came an exasperated voice. "Ah needs to know how many feet you got youself off da ground an where is you plane in relation to dis airport!"
Pierre him, he start to panic by dis time pretty good. He say, "Countin Boudreux's feets and mine togedder, we got four feet off da ground an I don' believe dis plane is related to your airport!"
A long pause came . . . da silence was deafening. Den, from the radio, Pierre hears Thibodeaux say "We needs to know whoose you next of kin cher."