More Louisiana fun
Your sunglasses fog up when you step outside.
You reinforce your attic to store Mardi Gras Beads.
You don't look twice when you see pink flamingos in yards of nice subdivisions during Mardi Gras.
You save newspapers, not for recycling but for tablecloths at crawfish boils.
Your ancestors are buried above the ground.
You drink Community, but tried Starbucks and don't see what all the fuss is about.
You take a bite of five-alarm chili and reach for the Tabasco.
You sit down to eat boiled crawfish and your host says, "Don't eat the dead ones"... and you know what he means.
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 beads.
Little old ladies push YOU out of the way to catch Mardi Gras Beads.
You believe that purple, green, and gold look good together.
Your last name isn't pronounced the way it's spelled.
No matter where else you go in the world, you are always disappointed in the food.
Your town is low on the education chart, high on the obesity chart and you don't care because you are #1 on the party chart.
You know that Tchoupitoulas (pronounced Chop-a-too-lis) is a street and not a disease.
Your Santa Claus rides an alligator and your favorite Saint is a football player.
You've eaten at one or more of these restaurants AND know how to pronounce them: Tu Jacque's, Gallatoire's, Ralph & Kacoo's, Brunet's, or Mulate's.
You eat dinner out and spend the entire meal talking about all the other good places you've eaten.