You can properly pronounce Lafayette, Bossier, Natchitoches, Opelousas, Pontchartrain, Ouachita, and you know that New Orleans doesn’t have a long “e” sound anywhere in it.

You measure distance in minutes.

You’ve ever had to switch from “heat” to “A/C” in the same day.

You use “fix” as an adjunct verb. Example: I am fixing to go to the store.

All the festivals across the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, grain, arthropod, mollusk, or animal.

The local paper covers national and international news on one page, but requires 6 pages for local gossip and sports.

You know all four seasons: Almost summer, summer, still summer, and Christmas.

Going to Wal-Mart is a favorite past-time known as “goin’ wal-martin” or off to “Wally World.”

You describe the first cool snap (below 70 degrees) as good gumbo weather.

The crawfish mounds in your front yard have over taken the grass.

You greet people with “Howzyamomanem?” and hear back “Dey fine!”

Every so often, you have waterfront property.

When you refer to a geographical location “way up North,” you are referring to places like Shreveport, Little Rock, or Memphis, “where it gets real cold.”

You’ve ever had Community Coffee.

You can pronounce Tchoupitoulas but can’t spell it.

You don’t worry when you see ships riding higher in the river than the top of your house.

You judge a po-boy by the number of napkins used.

The waitress at your local sandwich shop tells you a fried oyster po-boy “dressed” is healthier than a Caesar salad.

You can eat Popeye’s, Haydel’s and Zapp’s for lunch and wash it down with Barq’s and several Abitas, without losing it all on your stoop.

You don’t learn until high school that Mardi Gras is not a national holiday.

You believe that purple, green and gold look good together.

Your last name isn’t pronounced the way it’s spelled.

You know what a nutria rat is but you still pick it to represent your baseball team.

You know those big roaches can fly, but you’re able to sleep at night anyway.

You assume everyone has mosquito swarms in their backyard.

You realize the rainforest is less humid than Louisiana.

You learn that a seat belt makes a pretty good branding iron…

When out of town, you stop and ask someone where there is a drive-through Daiquiri place, and they look at you like you have three heads.

You have flood insurance.

Your burial plot is six feet over rather than six feet under.

You worry about a deceased family member returning in spring floods.

Your glasses fog up when you step outside.

No matter where else you go in the world, you are always disappointed in the food.

You get up in the morning and start cooking a pot of rice before you give any thought to what you’ll fix for dinner.

You ask, “How dey running?” and “Are dey fat?” when you’re inquiring about seafood quality.

Fried catfish is the other white meat.

You call tomato sauce “red gravy.”

You eat sno-balls instead of throwing them.

Your house payment is less than your air conditioning bill.

Your grandparents are called “Maw Maw” and “Paw Paw.”

You fall asleep to the soothing sounds of four box fans.

No one eats healthy. Fried Batter is actually a menu item in some restaurants.

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Louisiana.

Finally, you are 100% Louisianian if you have ever had this conversation:
“You wanna coke?”
“Yeah.”
“What kind?”
“Dr. Pepper.”