.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}

Tom Coburn is a Big Fat Jerk


moonbat150


Home of the Barking Moonbat


 

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

The Gumbo-Crawfish Pie Diaspora

I am positively absolutely ashamed of myself, but just a while ago, the most evil selfish thought entered my mind: "evacuees from New Orleans" means Cajun or Creole food joints springing up everywhere.

The thought first occurred to me when I stopped at the Reasor's in Tahlequah to stock up on --- well, on whatever. And I noticed some "not from heres" in there. I mean, it's so easy to spot the locals in these parts. Either they're fullbloods, mixed-bloods and/or farmers, except during the summer when most of Los Angeles shows up trying to get tribal membership on the basis of --- well, whatever. Who knows what. And of course everyone who works at Cherokee Nation or the Keetopwah looks like they just walked out of some Rodeo Drive boutique because they're all taking all that federal money and ... okay, let's not go there. Yes, our tribal officials are absolutely the most honest and trustworthy officials anywhere, really they are!

In any case, it's no longer summer and the Cherokee Nation Holidays are long over, but these people didn't look like they were here for the holidays anyway and they certainly weren't employed by any tribe around here.

And they definitely weren't Okies.

Then, upon leaving the store, here come Green Berets.

Huh? Green. Berets.

I tried not to stare --- I mean, huh? What, they rounding up the Indians? Again?? Reinforcements called in to shut down the bingo halls?? What's this shit? Green freaking Berets?

So I did the not at all discrete sidelong glance and saw them with a package that said Katrina Relief.

Okay, fine, whatEVer.

I mean, I'm sure they're nice people, but I have to admit I felt like they looked a little trigger happy. Okay, maybe they didn't but --- Green Berets?

Then, in the parking lot, I saw a little truck with Louisiana license plates. Then I stopped off at Bank of Cherokee County to pay a bill, and there's two more Louisiana cars. Then, I turn onto Highway 82 to go home and get behind another Louisiana car.

And I suddenly remember the fabulous little Cajun butcher up at the little store down the road from me who makes gumbo --- REAL gumbo --- every Wednesday during the winter.

And I found myself thinking the most evil thoughts, namely PLEASE LET THEM SETTLE RIGHT HERE AND OPEN CAJUN RESTAURANTS AND LITTLE SMOKY CREOLE JOINTS EVERYWHERE!! OH PLEASE! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!

And I feel so incredibly guilty for preying on the tragedy these people have been through. But oh my --- the possibilities!

And truth be known, I soooo hope it happens.

2 Comments:

At 8:55 PM, Blogger KCB said...

That would be the spiciest silver lining ever.

 
At 9:17 AM, Blogger Leila M. said...

lol food does have a pull dont it

 

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home