I feel compelled to add The Boiling Point to the blogroll.
Yep, it’s a Texas blog. So make that TWO good things coming out of Texas: I-10 AND The Boiling Point. Go read.
Daily Archives: 1/14/2005
Louisiana news…
From a link off of “Say Uncle” is this compendium of Louisiana news sources and the latest headlines of this strange state… At least our food and music is good…
I’ll bet it was impressive…
Somewhere there on your electric bill is a stupidity surcharge. You pay it and never give it a second thought. Here’s one reason why it’s there.
Some years back my employer had me working with a utility company in Mississippi. It was a great job. The power company guys I worked with were knowledgeable and helpful and entertianing to work around. Our job had us bouncing in and out of various utility electrical substations testing transformers and circuit breakers. It was good work.
One week we had to work on the equipment in a substation next to a public housing project. When we got our first transformer switched out and I clombed on top of it, I found a bicycle wheel. You know… 26 inches in diameter, spokes, sprocket… your standard bicycle wheel. On top of the transformer. This struck me as unusual. I looked around, and I saw a lot more metal objects around the substation.
“What’s the deal?” I asked our power company guy.
“Awww, that happens all the time,” he said. “The kids from the projects throw stuff over the fence to see the sparks fly. Sometimes the circuit recloses. Sometimes it doesn’t and we have to come down here and clear the trash and reset things. sometimes they blow up sh*t enough so we have to do some real repairs.”
I guess it was cheaper than fireworks…
The case of the missing chapter
Dad was telling me once that in his navy days in WW II, reading material was very popular onboard ship, especially givent eh long time it took to traverse the reaches of the Pacific. He said that one way around the shortage was to take paperback books and rip them apart into sections. He said this might mean that you didn’t read them in the right order, but he and the rest of the crew was generally just happy to have something to read at all.
And fifty years after the war he still complained that they had a really popular mystery novel being passed around and the first guy with the final chapter shipped out with it. The whole ship read the book but nobody ever found out how the author meant for it to end. Dad said that the conjecture and conversation about the missing ending provided hours of entertainment…
Cajun Jokes
(As posted on CSP Gun Talk by good friend jeff spradling)I’ve heard some of these before, but they’re still good……
If you are Cajun, or live in Louisiana, this is
how the rest of the states view most of Louisiana.
Thibodeaux: Boudreaux, did you get the parrot I sent you for your birthday?
Boudreaux: Yes, it was good!
Thibodeaux: You ate the bird!
Boudreaux: Of course I ate it.
Thibodeaux: That bird spoke five different languages.
Boudreaux: Then he should have said something.
Thibodeaux: Boudreaux, What’s the score?
Boudreaux: Seven to Ten.
Thibodeaux: Who’s winning?
Boudreaux: The ten.
When Boudreaux got home yesterday, Clotilde ran out to him saying,
“The car got water in the carburetor!”
“How you know that, you?”
“Cause it’s parked in the bayou!”
Boudreaux told Thibodeaux he was having trouble selling his truck, with 200,000 miles on it, for $1,500.
Thibodeaux advised him to set the odometer back to 50,000 miles to make it easier to sell. A few days later, Thibodeaux asked Boudreaux if he had sold his truck.
“No,” replied Boudreaux, “I decided to keep it. It has only 50,000 miles on it.”
Boudreaux and Thibodeaux went hunting and got lost in the woods. WhenBoudreaux began lamenting their fate, Thibodeaux said, “You know, I heard that the best thing to do if you get lost is to fire three shots in the air.” So they did that, and waited a while.
When no rescue party showed up, they fired three more shots in the air.
Finally, when there was still no response, Thibodeaux said, “Well, I guess we better fire three more shots.”
“OK, if you say so,” said Boudreaux. “But somebody better come soon–we’re about out of arrows!”
Dare was da time Boudreaux was having trouble sleeping at night.
Boudreaux wrote a letter to the Internal Revenue Service. He put, “Dear Internal Revenue Service, For da tax year 2003, I underpaid my federal income tax and I ain’t been able to sleep well since. Enclosed is a check for $200.00. Signed, Yours in Good Government, Boudreaux”.
And he put at the bottom, “Mais, P.S. If I don’t sleep better tonight, I’m gonna send you da rest.”
Boudreaux was sitting in the City Bar in Maurice, La. one Saturday night, and had several beers under his belt. After awhile, he looks at the guy sitting next to him, and asks him, “Hey, you wanna hear a good Aggie joke, you?
The big guy replies, “Let me tell you something. I’m an oilfield roughneck, I weigh 270 pounds, and I don’t like Cajuns. My buddy here is a pro football player, weighs 300 pounds, and he doesn’t like Cajuns either. His friend on his other side, is a professional wrestler, weighs
320 pounds, always has a chip on his shoulder, and he likes Cajuns even less than we do. And we are all Aggies. Do you really want to tell us an Aggie joke ?”
Boudreaux, all 150 pounds of Cajun attitude, tells him, “Well, I guess not. After all, I don’t want to have to explain it three times!”