To get the accents right ... check out some cajun youttube vids .... i.e. Cajun Man or Coyon Duhon

Thibodeaux and Boudreaux were out drinking one night.  Thibodeaux turns to Boudreaux ands tells him about being out in the pero (boat) with Marie. Said they were out all night doing the "laundry".  

Boudreaux thinks to himself, he's a gonna go ask Marie to go on the pero with him and do the "laundry".

So the next night Boudreaux asks "Marie, would you like to go out on the pero with me tonight?"  

Marie says,"why sure, Boudreaux, your such a nice looking fella."  

Out in the pero Boudreaux says,"Marie ... why don't you sit a little closer to me."  

Marie says, "why Boudreaux, what do  you have in mind?"

"Aww, Marie...I thought we would do some laundry," said Boudreaux.  Marie says, "that would be fine Boudreaux."

A couple of nights later Boudreaux again asks Marie to go out with him in the pero and do some more laundry.

"Awww..., Boudreaux," says Marie, "Its such a small load, you can do the laundry by yourself."

So we're watching the storm predictions and noting that its supposed to go right over our facility.  Already sending non-essential people home and beginning to secure the location. 

The more important thing is where to have the hurricane party.  Kinda looking like at least one night on the beach before returning to work. 

The San Luis (most likely where we will be quartered) is really nice but expensive.  Holiday Inn Resort has that nice cabana bar right on the street.  The Poop Deck is old and has weathered many hurricanes (should have blown away many times), but good people.  Any other suggestions?

Forgive me once if I stop to stare,
At moonlit strands of midnight hair
Borne on wintry tides of air.

Forgive me twice if I linger awhile,
To maybe catch that smallest smile
That somehow makes the day worthwhile

Forgive me thrice, no more no less,
For my visions of you in that little black dress

Sex is such a docile word.
It is written on forms to determine if you are male or female.

Intercourse is such a weird word.
It is used when speaking to your doctor about your sex life.

Fucking is such a crude word.
It is used when describing your Friday night with the girl from the bar.

Making love is such a mushy word.
The image of two lovers on a beach at sunset comes to mind.

Sex, intercourse, fucking, making love.
As long as it’s with the one you care for it can be all of the above.

The Hour

Hand rests on your bare shoulder

Ready to descend

Slowly down silky skin

Palm caressing curves

Resting on a firm nipple



The Minute

Hand moves an eternity

Quickly tracing your

Lips, moist and willing



The Second

Hand finds your

Hip, thigh

Pulse

Heart beating with each second



It’s Time

http://youtu.be/EegO_kvasPM

If you get a chuckle out of this your probably a GUY and not some kind of metrosexual, over civilized wimp.  

So a wife was commenting to her doctor one day about the recent fighting she had been having with her husband whenever

he came home drunk after an evening of carousing around.  

The doctor said, "I have just the solution to your problem.  The next time he comes home drunk, go to the bathroom and gargle

with mouthwash until he falls asleep."

So it wasn't long before he went out for a while and came home drunk.  The wife did as the doctor had suggested and gargled her

mouthwash until he fell asleep.

The next day she went to see the doctor and told him how well the suggestion had worked and that they didn't get into a fight.

The doctor said, "You see how well things worked out if you just keep your mouth shut!

Well it was funny in the all male control room and I can't do voice inflection or timing in text....lol

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.

After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away."

The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet

    "How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room.  He returned  a  few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner  looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front  paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom.  He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.

The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.

The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck."

The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.
The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried,
"$150 just to tell me my duck is dead!" The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry.  If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $150."