The Ledge - For Strandinthewind!

Saw this and thought of you!

>You Know You're From New Orleans When...
>Your sunglasses fog up when you step outside
>
>You reinforce your attic to store Mardi Gras beads
>
>Your baby's first words are "gumbo" and "whereyat"
>
>You save newspapers, not for recycling but for tablecloths at crawfish
>boils
>
>When you give directions you use "lakeside" and "riverside' not north &
>south
>
>Your ancestors are buried above the ground.
>
>You get on a green trolley car to go to the park and a red one to the
>French Quarter
>
>You listen to holiday songs such as "the 12 yats of Christmas" and
>"Santa and his reindeer used to live next door"
>
>You walk on the "banquet" (sidewalk) and stand in the "neutral ground"
>(area of ground between a two sided street) "by ya mommas" (by your
>mother's house).
>
>Someone asks for directions and you stop and help them with a smile
>
>You start an angel food cake with a roux.
>
>Watching "Wild Kingdom" inspires you to write a cookbook.
>
>You think a lobster is a crawfish on steroids.
>
>You think boudin, hogshead cheese, and a Bud is a bland diet.
>
>You think Ground Hog Day and the Boucherie Festival are the same
holiday.
>
>You take a bite of five-alarm chili and reach for the Tabasco.
>
>Fred's Lounge in Mamou means more to you than the Grand Ole Opry.
>
>You have an *envie* for something instead of a craving.
>
>You use a "#3" washtub to cover your lawn mower or your outboard motor.
>
>You use two or more pirogues to cover your tomatoes to protect them
>from the late frost.
>
>You use a gill net to play tennis, badminton, or volleyball.
>
>The horsepower of your outboard motor is greater than that of your car
>motor.
>
>You pass up a trip abroad to go to the Crawfish Festival in Breaux
Bridge.
>
>The four basic food groups are boiled seafood, broiled seafood, fried
>seafood and beer
>
>You are asked to name the holy trinity and your reply is "onions,
>celery, bell pepper."
>
>You let your black coffee cool, and find that it has gelled.
>
>You describe a link of boudin and cracklins as "breakfast."
>
>Every once in a while, you have waterfront property.
>
>Your mama announces each morning, "Well, I've got the rice cooking ...
>what will we have for dinner?"
>
>None of your potential vacation destinations are north of the old
>Mississippi River Bridge (US 190).
>
>You refer to Louisiana winters as "Gumbo Weather."
>
>You get a disappointing look from your wife and describe it as, "She
>passed me a pair of eyes."
>
>You think of gravy as a beverage.
>
>You greet your long lost friend at the Lafayette Regional Airport with
>"AAAAAAAYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE."
>
>You sit down to eat boiled crawfish and your host says, "Don't eat the
>dead ones," and you know what he means.
>
>You learned Bourre the hard way: Holding yourself upright in your crib.
>
>You don't know the real names of your friends, only their nicknames.
>
>You give up Tabasco for Lent
>
>You worry about a deceased family member returning in spring floods.
>
>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
>
>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 like your rice and your politics dirty.
>
>No matter where else you go in the world, you are always disappointed
>in the food.
>
>Your loved one dies and you book a jazz band before you call the
coroner.
>
>Your accent sounds nothing like Harry Connick, Jr's.
>
>You can sing these jingles by heart: "Rosenberg's, Rosenberg's, 1825
>Tulane;" "At the beach, at the beach, the Pontchartrain Beach..."
>
>You ask, "How they running?" and "Are they fat?" but, you're inquiring
>about seafood quality and not the Cresent City Classic.
>
>When a hurricane is imminent, you have a lot more faith in Nash
>Roberts than some Super Doppler 6000.
>
>Your town is low on the education chart, high on the obesity chart and
>you don't care because you're No. 1 on the party chart.
>
>Nothing shocks you. Period. Ever.
>
>Being in a jam at Tulane and Broad isn't the same as being stuck in
>traffic.
>
>Your idea of health food is a baked potato instead of fries with your
>seafood platter.
>
>You have to take your coffee and favorite coffeemaker with you on a
>three-day trip.
>
>You have sno-ball stains on your shoes.
>
>You call tomato sauce "red gravy."
>
>Your middle name is your mother's maiden name, or your father's
>mother's maiden name, or your mother's mother's maiden name, or your
>grandmother's mother's maiden name, or your grandfather's mother's
>maiden name.
>
>On certain spring days, Crawfish Monica is your breakfast.
>
>Your house payment is less than your utility bill.
>
>You've done your laundry in a bar.
>
>You don't show your "pretties" during Mardi Gras.
>
>You know that Tchoupitoulas is a street and not a disease.
>
>You "boo" the mayor on national television.
>
>You wear sweaters in because it ought to be cold.
>
>Your grandparents are called "Maw-Maw" and "Paw-Paw."
>
>.Your Santa Claus rides an alligator and your favorite Saint is a
>football player.
>
>You suck heads, eat tail, sing the blues and you actually know where
>you got them shoes.
>
>You shake out your shoes before putting them on.
>
>You don't think it inappropriate to refer to a large adult male as
"Li'l
>Bubba."
>
>You know why you should never, ever swim by the Lake Pontchartrain
>steps (for more than one reason).
>
>You cringe every time you hear an actor with a Southern or Cajun
>accent in a "New Orleans-based" movie or TV show.
>
>You have to reset your clocks after every thunderstorm.
>
>You waste more time navigating back streets than you would if you just
>sat in traffic.
>
>You still call the Fairmont Hotel, the Roosevelt.
>
>You consider garbage cans a legal step to protecting your parking
>space on a public street.
>
>You fall asleep to the soothing sounds of four box fans.
>
>Your one-martini lunch becomes a five-bloody mary afternoon... and you
>keep your job.
>
>Being in a jam at Tulane and Broad isn't the same as being stuck in
>traffic.
>
>You're walking in the French Quarter with a plastic cup of beer. When
>it starts to rain, you cover your beer instead of your head.
>
>You eat dinner out and spend the entire meal talking about all the
>other good places you've eaten.
>
>You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from New
>Orleans.
>
>
>
>
>--
>Doh!