A "New Husbands Store" has opened in New Orleans, just off of Canal where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to ...exit the building!
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband. On the first floor the sign on the door reads:
Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs.
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:
Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
'That's nice,' she thinks, 'but I want more.' So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:
Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are Extremely Good Looking.
'Wow,' she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going. She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help With Housework.
'Oh, mercy me!' she exclaims, 'I can hardly stand it!'
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous, Help with Housework, and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor, where the sign reads:
Floor 6 - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opened a "New Wives Store" just across the street with the same rules.
The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money and like beer.
The third, fourth, fifth and sixth floors have never been visited.
All good Southerners already know these, but in fairness to those Yankees who came to stay down here:
1. Don't order a steak at a Waffle House. They serve breakfast 24 hrs a day, so let them cook something they know.
2. Don't laugh at people's names. Merleen, Bodie, Luther Ray, Tammy Ann, Mari Beth, and Inez have all been known to whip a man's butt for less than that.
3. Don't order a bottle of pop or a can of soda -- this can lead to a merciless beating. Down South it's called Coke, even if you want a Pepsi.
4. Don't show allegiances to any college football squad that isn't an SEC team. All the others are a bunch of wusses who get to play Wyoming every week.
5. Don't refer to Southerner's as a bunch of hillbillies. Many of us are/have been more literate than you (e.g. Welty, Williams, Faulkner), better educated, and generally much nicer to boot. We've got plenty of business sense (e.g.Turner Broadcasting, MTV, and Netscape). Naturally, we can have lapses of judgment from time to time (e.g. Clinton, Duke). We don't care if you think we're dumb, we know better!
6. We are fully aware that the humidity is high. Quit your fussing, spend your money, and leave if you can't handle it.
7. Don't order wheat toast at the Cracker Barrel. If you do this, everyone will know you're from Ohio. Eat the biscuits like God intended and for goodness sake, don't put sugar in your grits.
8. Don't attempt to fake a Southern accent. Nothing will incite a riot faster.
9. Don't go around talking about how much better it is back home. If you don't like it here, take your Yankee butt back home.
10. We don't play lacrosse, hockey, or any of those other sissy Northern games, so don't ask about the scores. We...simply...don't...care.
11. We know how to speak proper English, we talk this way because we want to and we can. It's like playing jazz, you have to know how to do it right first.
12. Last, but by no means least...DO NOT try to tell us how to Bar-B-Q. This could lead to permanent expulsion and revocation of your work visa. Consider yourself lucky that we let you come down here in the first place. Don't push your luck!
One day at the end of class, little Boudreaux's teacher tells the class to go home and think of a story, and then wanted them to come up with the moral of that story for class the next day.
The following morning, the teacher asks for the first volunteer to tell their story and little Clotile raises her hand.
"My dad owns a farm and every Sunday we load da chicken eggs on da truck and drive into town to sell dem at the market. Well, one Sunday we hit a big bump and all da eggs flew out of the basket and onto the road."
The teacher asks for the moral of the story. Clotile replies, "Don't keep all you eggs in one basket."
Next is little Marie. "Well my dad owns a farm too, and every weekend we take da chicken eggs and put dem in da incubator. Last weekend only 8 of the 12 eggs hatched."
The teacher asks for the moral of that story. Marie replies "Don't count your chickens before dey hatched."
Last is finally little Boudreaux's turn. "My Uncle Hebert fought in da Vietnam war. His plane was shot down over enemy territory. He jumped out before it crashed wit only a case of beer, a machine gun and a machete. On da way down he drank da case of beer. Unfortunately, he landed right in da middle of 100 Vietnamese soldiers. He shot 70 wit his machine gun, but ran out of bullets, so he pulled out his machete and killed 20 more. The blade on his machete broke, so he killed da last ten wit his bare hands him."
Teacher looks in shock at Boudreaux and asks if there is possibly any moral to his story.
Boudreaux replies, "Mais yea teacher, don't ever mess wit my Uncle Hebert when he's been drinking!"