La Brise du Bayou Louisiana Rap ECards

Here are a few ECards made with lyrics by Louisiana French Rapper, La Brise du Bayou (The Bayou Breeze)

Wake up y'all it's a bad dream! Now, it's time y'all get up! It's the Bayou Breeze up in ya ears. Times have changed, it's not the same!

Hpnotic in my glass. That's it. The club is hot, that's clear, that's it. Drop your ass to the ground that's it. Yeah, that's how we gonna do, That's it.

Drop ya ass, Drop ya ass. Pop it, Pop it, Make it, Bump. Don't stop til ya clothes get wet.

Dear Good Lord, they are attacking me like my name is Osama in the USA.

Don't touch my car! If you try to steal it, it'll tell you, "Viper, Armed"

Yeah, dammed good for nothin, it's astonishing! I am gonna give you something for your toothache.

Yeah, in the streets until the end, we are going to continue speaking Cajun French.

Our Lady of the Squirrel Pedestal

Bayou Fuselier Road 

(D)Wayne Ecards

When I taught at the local high school, I had a love/hate relationship with the old school janitor, Dwayne Wayne. He taught me a lot of dirty French, because that's just how he talked. Here are a few of the insults/expressions he hurled at me daily, which I then scribbled down and collected in my "Livre de (D)Wayne"

You need a good slap salad!

I don't want to hear you screaming in the woods, no!

Force your nose in my ass and then fight for air.

Well look at Miss Smith with that little nest of hair on her head! She-devil!

Your brain is just like a little marble.

Here Daddy, It's a little new nothing in a bottomless box! Just like you always wanted.

You can just put your head in the toilet and do like you're swimmin' in the bayou.

Ecards 4

Cajun Music ECards 3

The sun is almost set,
my man's not home
Couche-Couche is burning
Caillette hasn't been milked
Go see what time it is!
Go see what time it is!

What's wrong beautiful brunette? It's all for the blondes, and nothing for the brunettes.

Your Mama is mad and you aren't happy! Prairie Ronde is the ruin of the youth!

Lil Nate

Where were you last Wednesday night? Drinking this good sweet wine and talking with a pretty girl who stole my heart from me. Cajun Music Ecards #ediusnaquin

We come from England oh my dear, oh my dear, we come from England! All along the winter's melt!

Pretty Blonde, now just look what you've done!

"Avec un hippity hip and a hippity hop"

Lower your head and fart, that's what's good for a headache. Evangeline Parish saying via LaHaye

Me I am going to get my dogs after you! Lord Lord! Moise Robin

The rabbit stole the pumpkin.

the Good Lord understands in French

Woman, you big no good! You wasted all of my happiness.

Paulina Tate, give me your heart. My heart is promised to John Israel. Edius Naquin

I want to die at Sacred Heart

I had often heard mamma talk about Miss Marie who took care of the church at Sacred Heart in Ville Platte. They said she was a saint. Late in life, she could barely walk, but would drag herself up the aisle to receive the sacrament of communion. To show her suffering and offer them up, they said.

                                       
Miss Marie, her maiden name was Ortego, she was Van Ortego's 'aint. And she was married to Curtis Fontenot. 
Curtis Fontenot, right!
He was a mail carrier, like Don said, and they had seven or eight children.

Woah!

They only had one boy, and the youngest child was my age, her name was Loretta, Loretta Fontenot. I graduate with her, a very good friend of mine and um, Miss Marie... Loretta was supposed to die when she was like, ten years old. Her appendix had ruptured and in those days, I mean, they didn't have- she had very very high fever when the doctor- Old Dr. Arthur Vidrine performed surgery on her on their kitchen table. He said he told Miss Marie, he says, you know, there's no chance for her to live...and she made a promise to the Virgin Mary that if Loretta lived she would just dress her in blue and white until she was ten years old- I mean til- for five years or somethin- I don't remember exactly. And that uh, she- I guess she made a promise that she would, you know, pray like she prayed and she was very devoted. And I knew her very very well personally ang I can promise you, she's a saint.

She knew the exact minute she was going to die. She was livin in Lake Charles with her daughter Anne, and her son-in-law Lee, and that mornin' Loretta told me, she says Mom wasn't any worse and she told Lee she says call Father I wanna have the last sacrament and I want communion this mornin.  And he said ohhhh he says Marie, he says, Father's too busy to come he cain't just drop everything and come. And she says I tell you, I want it now and you gonna drive me to Ville Platte cause I wanna go to Sacred Heart to die. And the priest came, he anointed her and all dat, she didn't look like she was very sick and they put her on the backseat of their van and they started drivin to Ville Platte. By the time they got to Chataignier, she started gettin really, really bad off, and she told Lee keep driging, drive faster, drive faster I wanna die at Sacred Heart. I want to die at Sacred Heart. And do you know when they got in front of that cemetery on Chataignier Road she said Lee, I don't know if I'll make it, can't you go a lil bit faster? And when they turned on the Sacred Heart parking lot she died.

Wow.

-Mmmhmm

And, that's the story...

Ok, Well, Thank you very much Miss Lena!

etc....
 

The Sacred Heart Parking Lot

  
 

Ladies of Instagram

Our Lady of the Prairie des Femmes

Notre Dame du Jardin

Black Mary of Ossun

Given Mary of Duson

Lafayette Front Yard Mary

Our Lady of the Persimmon Tree, Prairie Greig, Vermillion Parish

Our Lady of Mom and Pop's, Prairie Greig

Our Lady of Monsieur LaGrange

Our Lady of the Toy Corner, Henry

Our Lady of Christmas in Scott

Our Lady of the Spray paint, Opelousas Road at Plaisance

Our Lady of the Bathtub, Breaux Bridge

Our Lady of Jean Miller

Notre Dame de Saint Martin

Our Lady of the Teche at The Ville

Notre Dame de la Marianne

Fishing Contes by Floyd Soileau

Floyd Soileau tells two fishing tales: (English follows)

 

Bonjour! Hey, c'est un conteur des contes!

Ha! 'Coute ici, les temps comme ça-là, J'suis sur qu'y'a un tas du monde q'après préparer leur bâteau et leur ligne pour aller à la pêche.

Comment ti crois, excepte c'est- Floyd, avec un vent comme on après avoir, serait un peu rough sur le grand lac!

Mais ouais, 'coute! Ça m'a fait jongler ça là à des contes des histoires des pêcheurs longtemps passé y'avait ces deux vieux pêcheurs là qu'était après causer un... pour 'oir équel qui pouvais mentir plus que l'autre et un qui dit "woah!, il dit, me rapelle," il dit, "un fois j'ai été à la pêche avec une ligne qui tu pouvais... peux attrapper vingt livres dessus il dit tu crois pas j'ai attrappé une barboue d'cent livres, il dit! Et l'autre il dit, c'est pas rien, il dit, moi j'étais à la pêche j'attrapais une lanterne dans l'eau et l'avait toujours une flame, une lumière dans la lanterne, il dit oh no! il dit. j'vas dire quoi j'vas faire, il dit, j'vas éteindre ma lanterne si tu ôtes quarante livres sur ton p'ton... p'ton... 'sus ta barboue! 


J'ai attendu meilleur que ça!

Y en a une l'autre jour qui dit, il a était à la peche 'sus l'écore du bayou, et il dit c'été comme si le poisson été fache' à force que sa voulait mordre, avant l'appât frappait l'eau sa l'attrappé. J'te dit, j'avait assez une débat, il fouler j'me cache en arrier d'un gros aubre pour mettre mon appât 'sus l'hameçon, à force il étoint fort pour mordre.

Caw! Mon j'ai jamais vu que'que chose comme ça; Lord have mercy! Ho, mes amis, c'est un bon temps pour aller pecher quand le poisson à faim comme sa, hein! ...Merci Beaucoup!


 Transcription:

Hey! It's a teller of tales!

Ha! Listen here, with weather like this here, I am sure that there are a bunch of people who are preparing their boat and their line to go fishing.

How you think, except, on the- Floyd, with wind like we are having, it would be a little rough on the big lake!

Well, yeah, listen! That made me think there of the tales of stories of fishermen long ago. There were two old fishermen who were chatting about who could tell a bigger lie than the other one. Then one, he says, "woah! I remember one time I was fishing and there was a line that you could catch twenty pounds on it, and wouldn't you believe that I caught a 100 pound catfish on it! And the other one says, that's nothing! Me I was fishing and I caught a lantern in the water that still has a flame, a light in it! He said on no! I'll tell you what I'm gonna do-  I'll put out my lantern of you take off forty pounds of your dammed catfish!

I heard better than that!
There was one the other day who says he was fishing along the bayou and it was like the fish were mad to the point where they wanted to bite you, before the bait hit the water it caught them. I am telling you I had such a hard time, I had to hide behind a big tree to put my bait on the hook, they wanted to bite so bad!

Caw! Me, I never heard something like that! Lord have mercy! Ho my friends, it's a good time to go fishing when the fish are that hungry!

Mais Jamais! A Second Good Friday Story

                                     

Ils m'ont dit, que, tu connais longtemps passé les femmes raboulait aussi, ç'après rabouler on Good Friday avec un mulet sur la charrue. Et le prète, lui il a été ride around in the country, il a vu la femme après rabouler on Good Friday, ça fait, il a arrêtté, il dit, "Madame," il dit "Vous connais pas, il dit, aujourd'hui c'est vendredi saint?" 

A dit "Aw?" "C'est aujourd'hui c'est ç'a le jour àyou Jésu Christ est mort?!" "Oh!! Bon Dieu." a dit, "Père," a dit, "Moi j'ai jamais quitté connait qu'il était malade, cher. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They say, you know, a long time ago, that women labored in the fields also. There was one plowing on Good Friday with a mule and cart. And the priest, him, he was out riding around in the country, and he saw the woman plowing on Good Friday, so he stopped and he said "Madame," he says, "Don't you know that it's Good Friday?"

She said, "Aw?"

"Today is the day that Jesus Christ died!"

"Oh, Good God!" she said, "Father," she said, "Me I never knew that he was sick, dear."  

A Good Friday Story: Wild Mint

We had been working in the garden all of Holy Week as usual last year, but I kept on reminding my family not to dig on Good Friday. There is a belief that the ground will bleed the blood of Christ if you dig on the day he was crucified. The urge is strong as gravity to garden in the spring, but, resolved not to dig, so as not to disturb the sleeping blood of Jesus that lurks just below the surface on that day only, lest it burst forth under our toils and ruin our Easter completely, we abstained.

So, on Good Friday, we went to Pilette, a place between Lafayette and Broussard, to the newly emptied homestead of our grandparents who had just passed, both in the spring, less than a year apart. We went to see the empty house for the last time. There was certainty that the land would be sold and developed, as it was open land on a major thoroughfare in Lafayette. We did one last walk through the pasture to pick blackberries, gathering honeysuckle and dodging the other uncle's horses who were stalled at the barn. We reminisced about the drive-in theater that was on the property in the 1950's, and the Cajun bands who played there at the Bayou Jamboree. While we were walking, Nonc Dav guided us to the shady spot near the road where they used to find a wild mint growing. Mint is so hardy, it survived in rank competition of the blackberry bushes and tall goldenrod for all these years. We found it in many little patches, very small plants, a lovely spearmint. I imagined that it was in the yard of some homestead off of Pinhook Road 100 years ago, which was then open country, or else that Granny herself had planted it when she was a young bride. We decided to bring some home. So one of us ran back to the house to get a spoon and cup and we dug it up right there. It wasn't until late that night that, shocked, I realized what we had done. And though you think it would have, the ancestral land did not bleed.

Granny's Wild Pilette Mint

Update: After three years of encouragement, I could not get this mint to survive more than one season and it was lost in the garden.

Vendredi Saint

It is said that one must not dig in the earth on Good Friday because it will make the ground bleed the Blood of Jesus, but there is another belief around here that says that it is good to plant your parsley on Good Friday so that it will not bolt. Mister J.D. Soileau of Point Blue, Louisiana has information about how to plant anyway, and kill trees if you want to do that, too.

  Les Remarques de Vendredi Saint

Vendredi Saint tu plantais ton persil. Tu travaillais ta terre le jeudi bien et là le vendredi tu mettais la graine sur la terre et tu 'trappais un sac de peat et tu mettais ça dessus. Là ton persil té planté et j'crois ça dit il entrait pas en graine aussi vite...

Là si tu voulais tuer les arbres qui tu voulais pas, tu cernais tout le tour.
Tu cernais sur un jour special, J?
Mais sur vendredi saint!
Sur vendredi saint, alright!
Alors, tu cernais les arbres sur vendredi saint et ça ça les tué.
Ouais, mon grand-père faisait ça. C'était juste que j'voulais dire les vieux rémarques sur le vendredi saint.
Comment tu crois, hein?
Ouais.
Ça c'est beaucoup intéressant!
Ok, Thank you Jim.
Merci Beaucoup, J.
Alright.
Mister J.D. Soileau of L'anse Bleue Louisiana!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On Good Friday you planted your parsley. you worked the soil on Thursday and then on Friday, you put the seed on the ground and you got a sack of peat and you would put that on it. Then your parsley would be planted, and it would not go to seed too quickly.

Then if you wanted to kill some trees, you had some trees that you didn't want, you'd ring them.
You would ring them on a special day?
On Good Friday!
So you would ring the trees on Good Friday and that would kill them.
Yes, my grandfather did that. It's just that I wanted to say some old comments on Good Friday.
How about that, eh?
Yeah.
That is very interesting!
....      

Bonjour les Malfecteurs!

Here, Floyd Soileau calls in to the Tasse de Cafe Radio Program and greets Jim Soileau with,

"Bonjour les malfecteurs!" (Good day evil doers!)

To which Jim replies, "Oh mais gardez-donc! ça c'est un grannnnnd malfecteur!" (Oh well look at that! there's a biiiiig evildoer!)

He says that that line is from an old story called "les gamins".