It just keeps raining. We are tired of it. Three weeks ago, eight hours of Festival International were canceled. Two weeks ago, the Jazz Fest had a whole day canceled. Tonight I drove across the Atchafalaya Basin in a torrent of rain. I am not fond of that 18-mile bridge in good weather. There should be a bumper-sticker: Pray for me; I drive across the Atchafalaya.
I am weary of jokes about pirogues, Noah, and Breaux-Bridge Nikes. (Subtitle: little boats, a blblical character who knew from floods, and rubber boots.) Got any new jokes? Oh, and no mildew jokes, either, please.