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Many thanks to Gladys of Homespun
for this very amusing, albeit accurate, post!!

(Thanks, Carol, for the pretty border!)


You're out of town and you stop and ask someone where there is a drive-thru daiquiri place, and they look at you like you have three heads.

You have flood insurance.

The four seasons in your year:
crawfish, shrimp, crab and King Cake.

You greet people with "Howzhyamomma'an'em?" and hear back "Dey fine, darlin!"

Someone asks for an address by compass directions and you say its uptown, downtown, backatown, riverside or lakeside.

Your burial plot is six feet over rather than six feet under.

You can pronounce Tchoupitoulas but can't spell it.

You don't worry when you see ships riding higher in the river than the top of your house.

You consider a Bloody Mary a light breakfast.

The major topics of conversation when you go out to eat are restaurant meals that you have had in the past and restaurant meals that you plan to have in the future.

You judge a po-boy by the number of napkins used.

The waitress at your local sandwich shop tells you a fried oyster po-boy dressed is healthier than a Caesar Salad.

You know the definition of "dressed."

You can eat Popeye's, Haydel's and Zapp's for lunch and wash it down with a Barq's and several Abitas, without losing it all on your stoop.

The smell of a crawfish boil turns you on more than the adult channel.

You wrench your hands in the zinc with an onion bar to get the crawfish smell off.

You're not afraid when someone wants to ax you something.

You go by ya mom-en-ems on good Friday for family supper.

You don't learn until high school that Mardi Gras is not a national holiday.

You push little old ladies out of the way to catch Mardi Gras throws.

You leave a parade with footprints on your hands.

You believe that purple, green and gold look good together, you will even eat things those colors.

You go to buy a new winter coat and throw your arms up in the air to make sure it allows enough room to catch Mardi Gras beads.

You have a parade ladder in your shed.

Your first sentence was "Throw me something mistah" and your first drink was from a go-cup.

You wonder what Anne Rice has against a building that looks like a Mardi Gras float.

You have a special set of grungy, well-broken-in-shoes you refer to as your "French Quarter Shoes."

Every so often, you have waterfront property.

Your last name isn't pronounced the way it's spelled.

You know what a nutria is but you still pick it to represent your baseball team.

You have spent a summer afternoon on the Lake Pontchartrain seawall catching blue crabs.

You watch a movie filmed in New Orleans and say things like "Der ain't no way they can run out of a cemetery right on to Bourbon Street."

You describe a color as "KB Purple."

You like your rice and politics dirty.

You worry about a deceased family member returning in spring floods.

You reply to anything and everything about life here with "Only in Nahlins."

You have a monogrammed go-cup.

A friend gets in trouble for roaches in his car and you wonder if it was palmettos or those little ones that go after the French Fries that fell under the seat.

Go back to the Mardi Gras page.