Wednesday, June 04, 2003

Leaving a bayou in Southern Louisiana well known for its fishing, a Cajun was stopped by a Game warden. The game warden pulled along side the Cajun's boat and noticed two ice chests full of fish

"Do you have a license to catch those fish?" the game warden asked.

"Naw, ma' fren, I ain't got none of dem, no. Dese here are ma' pet fish," the Cajun proudly replied.

"Pet fish?!" the warden said.

"You betcha pet fish," said the Cajun. "Avery night I take ma' pet fish down to de bayou and let dem swim 'round for a while, and when I think dey had enough swimmin' for da evenin' den I whistle and dey jump rat back into dese here ice chests and I take dem home."

"That's a bunch of bull, fish can't do that!" the warden demanded.

The Cajun looked at the game warden and said, "It's de truth, ma' fren.

Here, I'll show you." So the Cajun carefully picked up each of the two ice chests, gently poured the fish into the bayou, then sat back in his boat chair, crossed his arms, and quietly waited.

After several minutes, the game warden turned to the Cajun and said, "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, how long are you going to let them swim around?" the warden asked.

"Let who swim around?"

"The fish," the warden said.

"What fish?"

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