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| Hey!! This is just my little diddy for the coonasses of the South...probably the MOST misunderstood bunch'a folks around. When ya hear the word "Coonass", I can just about "hear" the thoughts in your head...well, ya can slap those thoughts away rat' NOW!! Even though I wasn't born to the South, I lived there almost 17 years, and I grew to appreciate the fierce loyalty to their lifestyle, their speech and most especially their FOOD. The term "coonass" just mostly means people that are originally of French descent, migrated to the South and intermingled with the Spanish. Soooooooo, basically, they speak sort of a French/Spanish twist. And you should HEAR them!! You've never heard such a NEAT accent in your WHOLE life!! Anyway, these people |  |
| can cook, cook, cook. Some will tell ya that they cook for the taste, they want it to taste like cajun food. Others tell ya the only way to make cajun food right is to open a pot and throw it all in..whichever way, it comes out with a special flavor! | |
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"Twas The Night Before Christmas"
by J. B. Kling, Jr. (1973). De chirren been nezzle good snug on de flo', An' Mama pass de pepper t'ru de crack on de do'. De Mama in de fireplace done roas' up de ham, Sit up de gumbo an' make de bake yam. Den out on de by-you dey got such a clatter, Make soun' like old Boudreau done fall off his ladder. I run like a rabbit to got to de do', Trip over de dorg an' fall on de flo'. As I look out de do'in de light o' de moon, I t'ink, "Mahn, you crazy or got ol' too soon." Cux dere on de by-you w'en I stretch ma'neck stiff, Dere's eight alligator a pullin' de skiff. An' a little fat drover wit' a long pole-ing stick, I know r'at away got to be ole St.Nick. Mo' fas'er an' fas'er de' gator dey came He whistle an' holler an' call dem by name: "Ha, Gaston! Ha, Tiboy! Ha, Pierre an' Alcee'! Gee, Ninette! Gee, Suzette! Celeste an'Renee'! To de top o' de porch to de top o' de wall, Make crawl, alligator, an' be sho' you don' fall." Like Tante Flo's cat t'ru de treetop he fly, W'en de big ole houn' dorg come a run hisse's by. Like dat up de porch dem ole 'gator clim! Wit' de skiff full o' toy an' St. Nicklus behin'. Den on top de porch roof it soun' like de hail, W'en all dem big gator, done sot down dey tail. Den down de chimney I yell wit' a bam, An' St.Nicklus fall an' sit on de yam. "Sacre!" he axclaim, "Ma pant got a hole I done sot ma'se'f on dem red hot coal." He got on his foots an' jump like de cat Out to de flo' where he lan' wit' a SPLAT! He was dress in musk-rat from his head to his foot, An' his clothes is all dirty wit' ashes an' soot. A sack full o' playt'ing he t'row on his back, He look like a burglar an' dass fo' a fack. His eyes how dey shine his dimple, how merry! Maybe he been drink de wine from de blackberry. His cheek was like a rose his nose a cherry, On secon' t'ought maybe he lap up de sherry. Wit' snow-white chin whisker an' quiverin' belly, He shook w'en he laugh like de stromberry jelly! But a wink in his eye an' a shook o' his head, Make my confi-dence dat I don't got to be scared. He don' do no talkin' gone strit to hi work, Put a playt'ing in sock an' den turn wit' a jerk. He put bot' his han' dere on top o' his head, Cas' an eye on de chimney an' den he done said: "Wit' all o' dat fire an' dem burnin' hot flame, Me I ain' goin' back by de way dat I came." So he run out de do' an, he clim' to de roof, He ain' no fool, him for to make one more goof. He jump in his skiff an' crack his big whip, De' gator move down, An don' make one slip. An' I hear him shout loud as a splashin' he go, "Merry Christmas to all 'til I saw you some mo'!" J. B. Kling, Jr., 1973 |
Coonass Menu
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Some other cajun links
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Coonass Dot Com!! *L*