Living in Louisiana affords me the opportunity to give my out-of-state friends exotic gifts. Periodically venturing “abroad” (if you lived here you’d understand, take that Minnesota), I’ve gifted friends trinkets ranging from alligator meat (from my locally sourced, free-range alligator farm) to “Cajun Spice Balls” (a chromium- and mercury-rich sludge dredged from the Mississippi River that causes a tingling sensation when it touches human skin, it’s also great on bagels).
Typically, I give my friends Mardi Gras beads with some cock-and-bull story about how I purchased these beads from an old voodoo queen who cursed me that unless I married her, all clothing I wear will be as baggy as Lee Pipes. What will my balls do with all that extra blood? Middle School was an awkward time…
Lee Pipes: Remember These?
My point is that ultimately, Louisiana has exports other than poverty, stupidity, sulfur, illiteracy and incest. We also have crazy lies and gonorrhea.
