Cajuns are white. They're descended from French colonists who were pushed out of the Canadian Maritimes. I'm going to assume you mean "creole," but the joke doesn't even make sense then. Don't worry, I'm not mad at you. Just...look, google and Wikipedia are helpful tools.

Oh yeah, almost forgot. This joke misses the mark so bad that as a white man living in the South I am actually sort of offended. You lose one point.

[edit] ack, misread the last point. Still a bad comment though.

Seriously. Traveling to a night game in Alabama, when you have church in the morning?

This post goes halfway towards a good point then stops abruptly. Allow me to finish it for you.

Just so we're clear, you know that it's an actual TV show, right?

This is a little bit old, but I'm just going to leave this here:

He pours coffee made from extra fine grounds up his nostrils and lets it drip out of his mouth.

Jeez, I'm on the local PBS station and they're talking about the freakin' Saints on a low-rent local version of the McLaughlin Group.

Incidentally, the city tore down Alan Parsons Project years ago and replaced it with mixed-income housing. [edit] Now it's called The Lofts at Eric Woolfson.

Jeez, why don't you guys all go to the bathroom and have one great big circle jerk?

How lame. A true Schiano man would have played that the right way and not like a half-[shoots self in head]

I wanted to say something in tonight's DUAN but I forgot what it was.

Oh man, my favorite part of game day is when everyone gets up and dances to "Pocket Calculator" after every touchdown.

The Washington Dodgers.

"I always knew he was a dirty, good-for-nothing Red."

Shit, then you better hide that cover before somebody sees it.

Because he's spent his high school career in Canada and at Huntington Prep—which excels at shielding its players from media and, perhaps just as important, overexposure—he remains something of a mystery.

Tracy Purr-ter.

Awesome.