Commentary Committment

Hello? Any commenters out there? Cat got your mouse?

I checked into the "Blogger Help Group," this evening to see if other other Bloggers were having similar problems leaving comments. Are they ever! It is definitely a widespread Blogger problem. Today, Feb. 1, at 5:22 pm, a Blogger employee responded that they have discovered the problem but as of then had not found a fix. The problem is being worked on ...

Hiya, folks. Clem here. Y'all prolly knows my cousin Cletis. I hear tell he is a regular carburetor on this here Blog.
....Wha's that? 'Scuse me, but my ol' lady, Bessie, be a lookin' over my shoulder. She claims I cain't use 'carburetor' in the last sentence that way. She says I shoulda used the word 'contributor' 'stead.
....Well suh, I don't knows 'bout that, coz a carburetor passes the gas in an engine. Hell, everyone knows that. As for Cletis, I knows nobody who cain pass gas lack him. So, if the clodhopper fits, wear it!

Anyways, I heared tell that Cletis often comes to this here Blog wiffin some 'neckdotes 'bout hisself. Far be it fer me to question any of his tales, coz when you hear 'neckdotes 'bout us Hillbillies and Rednecks you bess be sure they's true.
....I reckon iffin Cletis cain spin a yarn here, then danged if ol' Clem cain too! It is purty good timin' too, coz I had a funny thing happen to me jess lass night.

Well, I was on my way home coz it was a fixin' to get dark. Fer the record, I wasn't comin' home from workin' coz it's like this, I ain't got no job to be keepin' me out. I was down in the next holler a lookin' fer some poontang. Well, I didn't have much luck so I was on my way home and I done resigned to the fact that I was a goin' to have borrow some of the ol' lady's lard.
....Well suh, I was gwonna pass right by that new Hooters place down there jess off the Interstate, so I figured I might as stop for a nice cold Carlings. It so happened that I was in the bathroom doin' what I usually do in a bathroom of a place what sells beer. I was a takin' a squirt. Well, danged if right there on the wall 'bout the same place my eyes was a lookin' was somethin' scrawled there. Hot damn, iffin it weren't the words "for a good time call" followed by a telephone number.
....Well, I commenced to memorize that there number while I was a finishin' my squirt. By and by, I fetched a dime outta my pocket and went straight for the pay telephone across the room next to one of those mechanical bulls what was put there for some redneck to get a broke neck.
....So, I dialed that number. Well, when my wife answered the phone and said 'Hello," I hollered "Sorry, wrong number," and then I hung up the phone then and there.
....Well when I got back to my stool and ordered another Carlings, I tole the barkeep what had jess transpired. Like any barkeep what wants to get paid for servin' all those Carlings, he got friendly like and asked me what I thought about it all.
....I said to him, I said, that as soon as I heared my wife's voice on the other end of that line, I knowed straight away that it was the wrong number. Coz I knowed fer a fact that they ain't been no good times had in that house for nigh on ten years! And that I should be the one to know, coz I live in that house.

Well, after 'bout fifteen of those cold Carlings and a lookin' at all them Hooters girls' hooters, I made up my mind to get on home. You shoulda seen the sight before these sore eyes what I saw when I snuck all tip toe into my house! There stood my ol' lady Bessie all nekkid as a jaybird! To me she was a lookin' better'n them Hooters girls jess then.
....Well, then she produced that cast iron skillet and glared with them she-devil eyes of hers. She says she was a waitin' there nekkid so's I could get a good look at what I wasn't gonna get. Then she used the words from her favorite country song, "Don't come home a drinking with lovin' on your mind." Then if that didn't beat all, she up and tells me that she done hid her bucket of lard from me.
....Goes without saying, at about that time I was softer than Liberace in the Playboy Mansion. It sure looked lack I was a gonna be a sleepin' on the couch again. Danged iffin that bloodhound dog of mine had different plans. He done looked up at me and growled like all get out from that couch coz he was already sleepin' on it, and it weren't in his nature to get up lessen he wanted to.
....So, to make a long story short, I ended up on the floor by the wood stove. Blasted woman, she'd done forgot to chop some wood and fetch it inside again. I swear, she's sure been forgettin' to do a lot of the chores nowadays. Well, I decided I wasn't goin' to kowtow to her antics nohow. Danged if I was gonna chop any wood for her satisfaction.

Well, that's about it. See folks, I tole you I cain spin a good 'neckdote myself, didn't I?

Hooray! Comment Problem Fixed! (After initial posting of this entry.)

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