Cletis Clyde's Mem-wires

Howdee, folks. Cletis Clyde here.

I was a-thinkin' that someday I jest might try to write down some of my mem-wires. So whilst I was a-thinkin', I got to wonderin' what rememberances I would want to jot down in a book. I reckon I should start wiffin my days when I was little.

When I was a youngin' I used to walk into class at school every morning with a black eye. After a while my teacher got worried and asked me about it.

"Cletis, why do you come to school every day with a black eye? Are you getting into fights?"

I answered, "Our house is very small, miss. Me, my mother and my father, we sleep on the same bed. Every night my father asks, 'Cletis you sleeping?'

"When I said, "No" he slapped my face and gave me a black eye."

So the teacher says to me, "Tonight when your father asks again, keep dead quiet and don't answer".

The following morning when I came to school my eye was fine, so the teacher breathed a sigh of relief.

But the day after that I came back with two black eyes.

Alarmed the teacher asked, "My goodness Cletis, why the black eye again?"

I told her, "Mam, Dad asked me again, 'Cletis are you sleeping?'...and I shut up and kept dead still. Then my father and my mother started moaning (you know) at the same time. Mom was breathing heavy, and kicking her legs up and squealing like a hyena on the bed.

Then my father asked my mother, 'Are you coming?' Then my mom said, 'Yes I'm coming, are you coming too?' My dad answered 'Yes'.

They don't usually go anywhere without me so I said, 'Wait for me...'"

Then they is the time that I looked into a mirror for the very firs' time. You see' it was like this, my uncle was always a-sayin' that my paw an' maw was jest about the ugliest couple in the hills. I guess my paw believed him and 'cause of that he said we could never have any mirrors in our house.

After living way back in the remote hills of West Virginia all my life, I decided it was time to visit the big city. In one of the stores I picked up a mirror, and not knowing what it was I looked in it.

Not ever having seen one before, I was surprised at the image staring back at me. I said, "How about that! Here's a picture of my Paw."

So I done bought the mirror thinking it was a picture of the old man, but on the way home I remembered that my wife didn't like my father a'tall. So I hung it up in the barn so's she wouldn't see it.

Afterwards, every morning before I would wander there and look at it. Then I'd go in there in the afternoon and then again a-fore suppertime.

My wife began to get suspicious 'bout all my many trips to the barn. One day she followed me out to the barn and found me lookin' in the mirror.

She shoved me aside and when she looked into the mirror, she screamed, "So that's the ugly bitch you's been runnin' around with."

I 'spose I could put down a few lines about when I was a-datin' a-fore I got hitched. What book of mem-wires don't have stuff 'bout courtin' and a-sparkin'?

A while back, when I was considerably younger, I picked up this purty gal at her parents' house down the holler a bit from where I lived.

I really fancied her and wanted to impress her. I'd scraped together some money to take her to a nice fancy restaurant.

Hell's bells iffin she didn't up and order the most expensive items on the menu. She musta thought I was made of money cause she got some champagne, shrimp cocktail, and lobster.

I asked her, "Does your maw feed you like this when you eat at home?"

"No," she replied. "but my mother's not expecting me to get on my knees in front of her fly either."

What can I say? I asked her if she wanted dessert.

I remember the time that I learned that a feller can meet some gals by a-ridin' on a bus.

I was on a bus one day, when this purty young woman sat opposite me. Tarnation iffin she didn't start to breast feed her baby right there in the seat next to me!

"Come on, eat up, or I'll give it to that man over there," she says to the baby.

I don't have to tell you that sure got my 'tenshun.

Ten minutes later, she is still trying to feed the baby and says, "Come on, or mummy will give it to that man over there."

Well I looked over to the woman and says, "For heaven's sake missus, will you make your mind up. I should've got off this bus 3 stops ago!"

I think I would like fer my mem-wires to show that I'm really quite a romantic feller.

One night after a long days barbeque, I was a-sitting with my wife on the back porch. I was jest relaxin' wiffin' a cold Carlings in hand.

I felt that life didn't get no better than that and so I said, “I love you.”

My wife piped up, “Is that you, or the beer talking?”

I answered, “It’s me ... talking to the beer.”

№ 2128

Cletis Clyde's Oskars

This here is a Tongue-In-Cheek Production.

And iffin y'all doesn't knows what tongue-in-cheek means, then y'all deserves a tongue lashing! And iffin ya really wants to knows, go look it up. You know, gurgle it.

Ya know what really gets my goat? Well, jest 'bout anything gets my goat what ain't right as fer as I can see. But this here post is all 'bout what's a-gettin' my goat this very minute. And my goat started to gettin' got when I wuz a sittin' in my Lazy Boy recliner a lookin' thru my collection of video pickture shows.

Now, I ain't braggin' but I has one of the biggest collections in the whole holler exceptin' maybe fer my cuzzin Clem. He jest has 'em lyin' all over the place and not in any kind of order a'tall. Me, I keeps 'em organized so's I can find 'em real easy like when I wants to see a p'ticular one.

I likes to keep 'em 'ranged by what what kind of pickture and what's in 'em. Some of my favorites I keeps close to my chair a locked up in my tool box. They's the ones wiffin' a lot of T&A. And no, I'm not a vegetablarian - I don't have movies 'bout Taters and Asparagus!

Anyways, back to what it was what got my goat. I think I'm a purty good judge of what a good movie is. Hell, I aint no conasewer ... Ya know, that's one dumb word. It sounds like a 'scaped pris'ner what tried to hide inna septic tank. But I'm a digrestin' ...

Like I was a gettin' at, I got me a whole bunch of good watchin' movies. And ya know what? Not a single nary one of 'em ever won one of them Academic Awards. In fact, I don't think they was even dominated fer an Oskar.

I think all them Hollywood types a been usin' that stuff like cocaine and Rogaine, exceptin' theys a been puttin' the one fer the head up theys noses and the udder way 'round. And fer the record, I bet theys can't figger out which orfices they's s'posed to put chapstick and Preparation H either.

So anyways, this is leadin' up to what's gonna be makin' my goat feel better. I done decided to pick out some movies and give out my Oskar prizes. Now don't y'all be laffin' at my s'lections, coz I'm serious. These are Oskars that them Hollywood types should a been givin' out.

Best S'portin' Actress
Pia Zadora as Grimar in the 1964 cult classic, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. Eight-year-old Zadora (right in picture) gives an out-of-this-world performance as a young Martian girl.


Best Voice Characterization
Dom DeLuise as the voice of Pizza the Hutt from the epic 1987 space adventure, Spaceballs.


Best Actress
Allison Hayes as Nancy Archer from the 1958 hit, Attack of the 50-Foot Woman. This film demonstrates the old saying 'that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' So if you're planning on cheating on your wife, check the skies first to make sure there ain't no giant red balls a floatin' around. (I still wonder why it was that some of her clothes grew wiff her.)

Best Actor
James Arness as the Thing from the classic 1951 Science fiction thriller, The Thing from Another World. When an actor who plays a Marshall of Dodge City who can't seem to recognize the fact that Miss Kitty wants him to bed her, can take on a role as a blood craving celery stalk which terrorizes an arctic military base - now that's some powerful actin', folks. Not to take anything from John Carpenter's remake, but his Thing was all done by special effects.

Best Makeup
The 2000 Sci-Fi megahit, Battlefield Earth had fatastic makeup. I was really convinced that John Travolta as Terl and Forest Whittaker as Ker were really aliens from the planet Psychlos.


Best Adaptation of a Comic Book
How do you bring a comic book character to life? If you put a little person, Ed Gale, in a duck suit and voice it by Chip Zien, you get Howard the Duck. Give him a cigar, a taste for beer, a sexy human girl friend, and deadly monsters bent on the destruction of earth - it's the perfect formula for a hit movie. I was 'specially impressed when the feathers on his head stood up when he was in that erotic bed scene!

Best Director
Ed Wood, Jr. for the 1959 classic, Plan 9 from Outer Space. The plot of the film is focused on extraterrestrial beings who are seeking to stop humans from creating a doomsday weapon that would destroy the universe. In the course of doing so, the aliens implement "Plan 9", a scheme to resurrect Earth's dead to get the planet's attention, causing chaos.

Best Picture
When Jaws was released, people was afraid to go back in the water. When Attack of the Killer Tomatoes came out in 1978, I was afraid to go back into the garden!

After the tomatoes have killed a lot of people, they tomatoes are cornered in a stadium. "Puberty Love" is played over the loudspeaker, causing the tomatoes to shrink and allowing the various people at the stadium to squash them by stomping on them repeatedly. Fairchild, meanwhile, is cornered by a giant tomato wearing earmuffs. Dixon saves her by showing the tomato the sheet music to "Puberty Love." He professes his love to her, in song.

I love the ending- when a carrot rises from the Earth and says "All right, you guys. They're gone now."

Well folks, there y'all have it. Iffin I was to have a say so of what Oskar Awards should be given out, these would be some of my picks. Yer lists might not agree with mine, but who cares? This is my list. Go make yer own list!

№ 2119

Jokes R.F.D.

Marriage is like playing poker...In the beginning all you need are two hearts and a diamond...In the end, all you want is a club and a spade!- (Lifted from Cathy on FB)

Cletus is passing by Billy Bob's hay barn one day when, through a gap in the door, he sees Billy Bob doing a slow and sensual striptease in front of an old green John Deere.

Buttocks clenched, Billy Bob performs a slow pirouette and gently slides off first the right strap of his overalls, followed by the left.

He then hunches his shoulders forward and in a classic striptease

move, he lets his overalls fall down to his hips revealing a torn and

frayed plaid shirt.

Grabbing both sides of his shirt he rips it apart to reveal his stained

tee shirt underneath. With a final flourish he tears the tee shirt from

his body and hurls his baseball cap onto a pile of hay.

Having seen enough Cletus rushes in and says, "What the heck are you doing, Billy Bob?"

"Jeez, Cletus, ya scared the snot outta' me!" exclaims Billy Bob.

Then, obviously embarrassed, he says, "Me and the old lady been

having trouble lately in the bedroom department, and the therapist

suggested I do something sexy to a tractor."

"Darling," she whispered after they had finished making love, "Will you still make love like that to me after we're married?"
He considered this for a moment, and then replied, "I think so. I've always been especially fond of married women."

A farmer was selling his peaches door to door. He knocked on a door and a shapely 30-something woman dressed in a very sheer negligee answered the door. He raised his basket to show her the peaches and asked, "Would you like to buy some peaches?"

She pulled the top of the negligee to one side and asked, "Are they as firm as this?"

He nodded his head and said, "Yes ma'am," and a little tear ran from his eye.

Then she pulled the other side of her negligee off asking, "Are they nice and pink like this?"

The farmer said, "Yes," and another tear came from the other eye.

Then she unbuttoned the bottom of her negligee and asked, "Are they as fuzzy as this?"

He again said, "Yes," and broke down crying.

She asked, "Why on earth are you crying?"

Drying his eyes he replied, "The drought got my corn, the flood got my soy beans, a tornado leveled my barn, I voted for Obama and now I think I'm gonna get screwed out of my peaches....

A man was on trial for selling drugs, and a neighbor was called as a witness.
The defense attorney asked, “Did you ever get any cocaine or other drugs from the defendant?”
“No sir,” answered the man.
“Did you ever get any from his wife?”
“No sir.”
“Did you ever get any from his daughters?”
“Uh–excuse me sir,” the witness said, “but we’re still talking about drugs here, right?”

Air Force One crashed in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken the Secret Service mobilized and descended on the farm in force. When they got there, the wreckage was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed with only a burned hulk left smoldering in a tree line that bordered a farm.

Secret Service descended upon the smoking hulk but could find no remains of the crew or the President's staff. To their amazement, a lone farmer was plowing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened. They hurried over to surround the man's tractor.

"Sir," the senior Secret Service agent asked, panting and out of breath. "Did you see this terrible accident happen? "

"Yep. Sure did. " The man muttered unconcernedly.

"Do you realize that is the President of the United States airplane? "

"Yep. "

"Were there any survivors? " the agent gasped.

"Nope. They's all kilt straight out. " The farmer sighed cutting off his tractor motor. "I done buried them all myself. Took most of the morning. "

"The President of the United States is dead? " The agent gulped in disbelief.

"Well," the farmer sighed, obviously wanting to get back to his work. "He kept a-saying he wasn't . . . but you know what a liar he is. "

A farmer wrote to a giant mail order company and asked the price of their toilet paper.
The company wrote back and told him to look on page #287.
He wrote another letter back, "If I had your catalog, I wouldn't need your toilet paper."

A farmer and his brand new bride were riding home from the chapel in a wagon pulled by a team of horses, when the older horse stumbled.

The farmer said, "That's once."

A little further along, the poor old horse stumbled again.

The farmer said, "That's twice."

After a little, while the poor old horse stumbled again.

The farmer didn't say anything, but reached under the seat, pulled out a shotgun and shot the horse.

His brand new bride yelled, telling him, "That was an awful thing to do."

The farmer said, "That's once."

№ 2101

OLIO

Cletis Clyde's Dating Tips

1. Use pickup lines that compliment her, such as, "You're hot.  Wanna go back to my grandma's apartment and do it?"
2. A gentleman always orders for his lady in restaurants, even if has to keep telling her to shut the $@#% up in front of the waiter.
3. If she says she's like to go dancing, check your local alternative freebie paper to see which strip bars are holding auditions.
4. If she's a little shy about revealing personal details, just wait until she goes to the restroom, and go through her purse to learn more about her.
5. After you talk her into paying the bill, be sure to insist that you leave half the tip - that way you won't come off as cheap.

___________________________________________________

My wife appeared at the breakfast table in curlers and a worn bathrobe.

I looked up from my newspaper and said, "Why can't you look like you did when we were first got married?"

"How can I?" she snapped back at me. "I'm not pregnant!"

___________________________________________________

A daughter comes home from the Peace Corps in Uganda and surprises her mother, who is in the process of lighting the Friday night candles and serving the matzoh ball soup. The mother is so thrilled she can't stop hugging and kissing her daughter.

Finally she says, "Sit down, darling. Tell me all about what you were doing."

Her daughter says, "Mom, I got married."

"Oy, mazeltov," says the mother.

"How could you do that without telling me? What's he like? What does he do? Where is he?"

"He's waiting outside on the porch while I tell you."

"What are you talking about? Bring him in! I want to meet my new son-in-law."

The daughter brings him in, and to her consternation, the mother sees a black man standing before her wearing a big grin, a feathered cod piece, an enormous headdress, animal tooth beads and he is holding a very tall spear in an upright position.

The mother grabs her daughter, slaps her back and forth on both cheeks and screams, "Dummy! Stupid idiot! I said RICH doctor!"

-Stolen from: Phils Phun

___________________________________________________

A recent Survey has determined that there are 7 kinds of sex:

The 1st kind of sex is called:  Smurf Sex.
*This kind of sex happens when you first meet someone and you both have sex until you are blue in the face.

The 2nd kind of sex is called:  Kitchen Sex.
*This is when you have been with your partner for a short time and you are so needy you will have sex anywhere, even in the kitchen.

The 3rd kind of sex is called:  Bedroom Sex.
*This is when you have been with your partner for a long time. Your sex has gotten routine and you usually have sex only in your bedroom.

The 4th kind of sex is called:  Hallway Sex.
*This is when you have been with your partner for too long. When you pass each other in the Hallway you both say 'screw you.'

The 5th kind of sex is called:  Religious Sex.
*Which means you get Nun in the morning, Nun in the afternoon and Nun at night. (Very Popular)

The 6th kind is called:  Courtroom Sex.
*This is when you cannot stand your wife any more. She takes you to court and screws you in front of everyone.

And last, but not least, The 7th kind of sex is called:  Social Security Sex.
*You get a little each month, but not enough to enjoy yourself.

-The above image and list were borrowed from:  Mushy

№ 2046

The Case of the Raucous Redneck

(From the files of Dick Gumshoe, PI - Case № 5)

It had been a day just like every other day that month - no calls, no work, no money and another pile of bills. It isn't easy being a (blog) world famous detective, especially when one resembles a hybrid of Inspector Clouseau, Colombo, and Monk all rolled into one.

I hadn't made many friends since I'd taken up a career as a P.I., but I'd certainly made quite a few enemies. Many times I'd had to rely on my quick wits and guile to survive.

When I heard the first footfall upon the bottom step of the staircase leading to my office door, I used my cat-like prowess to quickly douse the lights and to dive under my desk. While Sherlock Holmes may have had to match wits with Professor Moriarty, I was tormented by my own arch-nemesis, one Harold Abernathy - my landlord.

Besides bumping my head on the desk, my actions did help me solve a couple of mysteries. I found the source of the fruit flies and my missing piece of pepperoni pizza. I decided to let the fruit flies have it.

When my caller rapped on the door I bumped my head again. Somehow, I managed to keep my stream of uttered profanities at a barely perceptible level, or so I thought.

"Mr. 'tective, I knows you in there. I heared you a-cussin'," boomed a voice with an unmistakable southern drawl.

I crawled out from under the desk and scrambled into my chair and said, "Come in."

The door swung open and there stood a lanky man wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and dungarees. The clodhoppers on his feet pounded the floor with each step he took into the office.

I cleared my throat and said, "Have a seat. How can I help you, mister ...?"

He looked around and said, "I reckon so. I didn't see her."

Confused by his reply, I asked, "You didn't see who?"

"Tarnation!" he yelped. "That's what I'm here fer."

I took a deep exasperated breath and exhaled as I spoke, "You seem to have me at a disadvantage. Just what did come you here for?"

"I came here fer you to help me find my girlfriend's pussy," he replied.

I leaned forward and rested my chin on my fist. This had to be some kind of joke. Somebody must have sent this redneck to my office to drive me crazy. Since I didn't have anything better to do, I decided to play along for a while.

I grinned and said, "Did you try looking under her skirt?"

"Why would I look under her skirt?" he said with a deadpan but serious glare.

"Well," I began, "it's been my experience that that's the first place I would look for one."

"Lawd a'mighty," he snapped. "How in the hell did you gets to be a 'tective anyway? Where I comes from, iffin you wuz to be lookin' under gals' skirts you would get the piss slapped outta ya! And I knows that fer a fact, coz that's been my 'sperience."

I thought to myself, 'I hope they broke the mold after they made this rube.' I grabbed my pen and a pad of paper to take some notes and asked, "Have you ever had trouble finding ... it before."

"Hell no! Every time I try to take a nap it's in my face!"

This was too much. I leaned back in my chair and decided to see what else he had to say. "Before we go any farther, I need some information for my files. We'll start with your name. You are ... Mister ...?" I noticed that his lip began to curl into a sneer. Then it came to me. "Ah, yes, we've already determined that you missed her, didn't we? Uh, tell me, what is your name?"

"Cletis," he answered, "Cletis Clyde."

"Okay, Mr. Clyde, besides when you weren't trying to sleep, when was the last time you saw your girlfriend's ... ah ... pussy?"

"Jest 'bout ten minutes a-fore I came to see you."

"Where were you at the time?"

"We wuz down yonder next to that fountain with the statue of some nekkid gal innit."

"I know the one. Let me guess, while she was looking at the statue you were looking at it?"

"Gosh a'mighty! Lookin' at it? I had it in my hand!"

I raised my eyebrows. "You had your hand on it in a public place? Weren't there any people around?"

"Hell, yes. But theys wuzn't payin' no never mind to us. Anyways, she wanted me to wash it. Tha's whut I wuz doin', a-washin' it."

I shook my head. Whoever put him up to this joke must have known I'd get a rise out of it. I cleared my throat, "Okay, you were washing your girlfriend's pussy in a public water fountain ... May I ask, why?"

"Coz she done up and got paint on it."

My jaw almost hit the top of the desk. I was almost afraid to ask, "Paint? How did she get paint on ... it?"

"From a-sittin' on a park bench what had a sign what said 'Wet Paint' onnit." Before I could ask he added, "My girlfriend ain't none too bright like me. She wanted to see jest how wet the paint might be."

"I see. She must have got paint on her skirt too?"

"Nah, it was a new skirt handed down from her sister. She hiked it up so's not to get paint on the skirt jest in case the paint wuzn't dry."

"I got it. That's how it come to have paint on it, and that's why you were washing it, to get the paint off of it. So tell me, how is it that you lost it?" This I have just got to hear, I thought to myself.

"Well sir, with it all wet and lathered up with soap, it got too slippery. I lost my grip on it."

I scribbled a few words on the pad and thought of something. I had to ask, "Tell me, Mister Clyde, can you describe your girlfriend's pussy for me?"

"Well, I reckon it ain't no different than a lot of them. It has short black hair and don't smell none too good. Oh yeah, it's still got some green paint offin that bench onnit."

I jumped when suddenly I heard "Dueling Banjos" from the movie Deliverance playing. As for Cletis Clyde, he calmly removed a cell phone from his pocket. "It's my girlfriend a-callin' me," he said. "Hello, hunny-bunches. Wha's that? Tha's awful! I'll be right there!"

"Something wrong? Another crisis?" I asked.

"I'll say! She said they's some man's wiener stuck in her pussy!" He pulled a dollar bill out of his pocket and dropped it on the desk. "I wants to thank ya fer yer time. I hope that there covers yer bill."

I just sat there dumbfounded as the door slammed behind him. I was almost tempted to follow him, but gave it a second thought and quickly dismissed it.

Suddenly the door swung open and there stood a woman in nightie. She was hysterical and crying, "Can you help me?"

"I'll try, ma'am. What seems to be the problem?"

"My husband's wiener is missing!"

I could feel a migraine coming. I had to ask, "It isn't in his pants?"

"What are you, some kind of pervert?" she snapped.

"No, ma'am. Let me guess, it's in some girl's pussy?"

Next thing I knew Cletis Clyde came barging through the door. Under his arm he was carrying a black cat with green paint on its fur. In his hand he was holding a wiener ... a hot dog.

I shook my head and grinned. This case was just about to be solved.

Cletis offered the wiener to the woman and said, "I believe this wiener belongs to your husband. It was stuck in my girlfriend's pussy. Poor thang, it almost choked to death. I think the cat stole it from yer grill on yer porch."

"Keep it, you moron." Disgusted the woman charged from my office without another word.

The redneck shook his head and said, "She ain't none too grateful, is she?"

I smiled and said, "It's a good thing you were able to pull that wiener out of the cat's mouth."

"Pull it out? Nope. It wuz too far down the cat's throat to reach. "I had to perform the hindlick maneuver."

"You mean the Heimlich Maneuver," I said correcting him.

"Uh-uh. Hindlick. I lifted its tail and licked its hind side. That wiener shout outta there like a bullet."

I sighed, "Well, I guess you can say that everything came out alright."

He looked at me and said, "Mister, you Yankees sure got funny ways a-sayin' things. Y'all should be learnin' to talk straight and say what ya mean like we do down in Wes' Virginnie." He took a bite of the hot dog, waved and turned for the door.

"I'll remember that. Goodbye, Mr. Clyde."

He stopped by the door and said, "Ya know, I coulda used yer services las' week. My maw's tits went a-missin' fer a spell." Before I could respond, he grinned and added, "No, I didn't have to look under her blouse. After a hour or so, dem birds came back."

I leaned back in my chair and put my feet on the desk. I decided I'd write up the case later. I looked at the dollar bill he'd left on the desk and pulled 79 cents out of my pocket. The day wasn't a total loss, I thought. At least with $1.79 ... I could buy myself a cup of coffee.

№ 2044

Cletus Looks At Commercials

Don't y'all hate false advertising?

Ya know that airline commercial where theys say bags fly free? Well, don't y'all believe it fer one minute. They wanted a hunnerd dollars a'fore they'd let my mother-in-law git on board one of their jet planes!

(So's I went down to Wal-Mart and bot her one of them new fangled "Swifter Jets" so's she could fly home in style.)

Now this one really raises my dander. (Sigh) I keep fergettin' that some of y'all readers might be Yankees. Listen up, ya cain't grows dander. It's anudder one of them s'presshuns. They's no such thing as dander seeds.

I'm talkin' bout them pills whut's s'posed to help men whut cain't get it up. Ya know, the ones whut have some of them side 'fecks. One is that a man's 'rection might not go down fer four hours or more! They says iffin' that happens you should go see a doctor straight away.

Tarnation! They ain't no man alive what would be a-thinkin' they would need to be seein' a doctor fer that! Some men might go to the doctor's office iffin that wuz to happen, but not to see the doctor. They'd be goin' there to see the nurses, iffin y'all get my driff.

Well folks, let me be the first to say that's all a bunch of hogwash! It's jest a come-on to gets us men to buy them there pills.

(Yep, I went and tried them. Four hours? No sir-ee. No way! It didn't happen. I even took three and four of them at a time and they wuz no difference than iffin I didn't take none. Now don't you go givin' no never mind to my wife. Smart alecky woman said it wuz more like four minutes.)

Y'all know what else gets my goat? And afore you asks, no, I don't owns a billy goat! Thas jest a s'presshun. It don't mean I wanna get a goat or that I got one.

Whut I'm a-talkin' bout is all them places whut claims to offer discounts fer senior citizens. Well, it ain't true - nary a word of it. Like that time my mother-in-law wanted to treat us to a meal fer our anniversary. She took me and my wife down to one of them Shoney's Big Boy hamburger joints.

Well, I figgered that since she wuz a-buyin' I'd order up a heap of grub fer myself. Fer an appetizer I went and asked fer one of them big ol' cheeseburgers and a large order of them chili-topped french fry taters and a large 'nilla shake to wash it all down wiff. Then I got me one of them country-fried steaks all smothered wiffin' some good ol' bacon grease gravy. Then I washed that down with a large RC pop. Now everyone knows that after all them victuals a feller has to top it off wiffin' a piece of strawberry pie fer dee-zert.

Whilst I wuz a feastin' on my food, my wife and her mother they only et a salad wiffin a glass of water.  They said they wuz filled up and didn't even get no dee-zert.

Bye n' bye it come time fer the gal to bring over the bill fer the food. Since the mother-in-law wuz a treatin' I paid no never mind to the slip what the waitress put down on the table. But she sure nuff did. Well she looked at the bill and then up at me and said she didn't have enuff scratch whut wuz needed to settle the bill.

Ain't that jest like that  woman to be offerin' to treat somebody and not have the money to do it wiff! So's I took a gander at that bill and right away found they's done made a mistake. They done fergotten to figger in the senior citizens' discount.

When I brung this to the 'tenshun of the gal, she said I wuz wrong. She told me they wuz a discount on what she had and that wuz fer a salad. The rest of the food whut my wife et and what I et wuz not subject to a senior citizen's discount.

"Gawd a'mighty," I says to her, "She is the one whut wuz s'posed to be a payin' fer all the food. Keepin' that in mind, there should be a discount on everything."

They's nothin' worst that a gal whut thinks she's smart. She jest laughed and said, "That might be true, but it's like this, she ain't got enuff money to pay fer it. That means you will have to pay. And iffin' you is the one a-payin' they's no discount on account you ain't no senior citizen."

Iffin that wuzn't bad enuff, damned iffin my wife and the ol' lady didn't commence to be agreein' wiffin that waitress. Well, I knowed I wuz out-numbered and wuzn't gonna win that argument. So's I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and told her to bring me back the change.

She jest stood there and said "That ain't enuff money. You owe me anudder five dollars."

I wuz in a fix coz I didn't have no more money. I said to her, "Iffin you wuz to put that discount on the bill I would have enuff to pay fer it wiffin that twenty."

Just then my mother-in-law got all high falootin' like she had some class and said, "Since I wuz a fixing to treat you fer yer anniversary anyways, I'll pay the udder five dollars. It's the least I can do fer my daughter and her husband."

( Well, I sure enuff gave that gal and her manager a piece of my mind. I told them they wuz guilty of false advertisin' when it come to the matter of senior discounts. I wuz gonna give my mother-in-law a piece of mind too fer a-cheatin' me out of my $20, but I didn't want to get busted over the head wiffin that pocketbook of hers - leastwise not in public. )

Don't tell her I said so, but my mother-in-law wuz guilty of false advertisin' when she offered to treat us wiffout havin' enuff money to do it!

№ 1993

Orange Ya Wishin' Ya Skipped This One?

With the aid of my whimsical alter ego, Cletus Clyde, I am able to regress into the persona of my bygone Appalachian childhood.

The creative juices haven't been flowing lately. Writer's block? I am reminded of a quote by the short story author Isaac B. Singer:

The wastepaper basket is the writer's best friend.

Alas, as of late, my wastepaper basket has been the delete key.

Perhaps Cletus, in his own subtle way, can come up with something. Without any further adieu, here is that redoubtable Hillbilly with his wizadry of the spoken word.

Iffin the truth be told, I dun thunk old Hale is jest bein' lazier than my ol' hound dog on a hot day. He's been a-parkin' his butt on that Lazy Boy of hizzin and watchin' them cable channels. Fer sure he's been a-scratchin' sumthin' on that stenuggeters pad, but tain't none of it made it to this here blog.

What wuz that word he used up yonder? Redoubtable? I ain't none too sure what that is when definitionated, but I think I mebbe shud be insulted. Iffin' I wuz to guess, I think it means I should be doubted again, over and over.

Here in West Virginnie we don't go 'round tryin' to show off usin' them big words. Iffin' I gotta look sumthin' up in the dickshunary it is a waste of valuable goofin' off time. Sides, my dickshunary is holdin' up the broken leg of our kitchen table.

I been a-tryin' to tell Hale to stop watchin' all them channels what talk 'bout history and science and such. He can't get no fresh ideas frum them coz it's old stuff what happen a-fore he wuz borned. He don't take kindly to advice neither.

I told him he should watch some of them adult channels like Playboy or Spice iffin' he wants to get inspired. But no, he's too cheap. He said he's gotta pay 'bout $15 for a four-hour block of them channels. I said to him,"Hell, you ain't gonna be watchin' it everyday."

So I guess I'll tell you readers and him 'bout the time I wuz havin' a certain problem that wuz affectin' my relations wiffin' my wife. I finally went to see my doctor.

The doctor said, "Whut seems to be the problem, Cletus?"

~~I said to him, "Doc Baker," coz you see Baker wuz his name and he didn't work in a donut shop coz he wuz a doctor. Anyways, I said to him, "Doc Baker, my wife won't have sex wiffin' me."

"Why is that?" the Doc asked.

"Well, Doc, it's kind of embarassin' like," I said all nervous. "It's my tallywhacker ... it dun turned all orange."

"What? 'Tain't possible. I'd better have a look at it."

So's I pulled my bib overalls down and dropped my draws to my knees.

I tell ya his eyeballs 'bout popped out the sockets and he said, "Well iffin that don't beat everything I ever laid my eyes on..."

"Whut is it, Doc?" I asked him.

I think he wuz a-bein' smart-alecky when he said, "It's a orange tallywhacker."

"I knows that! Do ya think it's a communicatin' disease?"

"I don't rightly know fer sure. Ya been a-puttin' it where it don't belong?"

I was kinda mad coz I thought he wuz bein' suhfishous, "Iffin you mean one of them sheeps - no way wuz I a-messin' with Daisy."

"Cletus, I ain't a-talkin' animals. I mean one of them gals up in the hills."

"I ain't been wiffin no gals neither, Doc ... at least not since last week. This jest been a-happenin' the last two days."

He shook his head and said, "So, what have you been up to the last two days. Tallywhackers just don't get all orange by themselves."

"Well," I said a wavin' it, "mine sure enuff did. And I ain't been nowhere but in the house."

"Okay," he said a-rubbin' his chin. "Tell me whut ya wuz a doin' whilst ya wuz in the house."

"Well, all I wuz a doin' wuz a-watchin' them xxx-rated movies on satellite and a -munchin' on Cheet-os."

There you have it. That's whut transpired 'tween me and Doc baker. Oh yeah, he gave me a scriptshun and durned iffin' it didn't clear up the problem.

Betcha ain't 'bout to guess whut medicine he gave me?


LARD!
Yup! Yer eyeballs ain't a-playin' tricks on ya. LARD!

I'm a gonna letcha in on a secret whut we hill folks been knowin' fer a long time. 'Tain't no better stuff on the planet Erf than lard. It's a magic stuff. They's nuffin' that beats a tub o' lard when it comes be useful.

Yessiree, it dun cleared up my orange tallywhacker lickety-split!

Wait 'til you take a good gander at the list what follows below. It's sum of the things what lard can be used fer.


Just look at this list of uses:

Lip Gloss

Hair Conditioner and Dressing

Facial Moisturizer

Shaving Cream

Make-up Remover

Deodorant—a fragrance that is pleasing to both man and beast!

Laxative

Shoe Polish

Hand and Body Cream

Personal lubricant
(why do you think they call it “makin’ bacon”! Sooeee!!)

Suntan lotion

Ointment for wounds and burns

All purpose seasoning

Dog training aid

Ain’t nothing whut can’t be helped with a spoonful or two of pure lard.

Well iffin' you'll excuse me, I'm a gonna sign off fer now. Mebbe Ol' Hale will get inspired so as not be botherin' me to come to his rescue anyways soon.

I'm a gonna go do some "snipe hunting."

And later, I think I'll take Daisy out to watch some "submarine races." (Wink-wink!)

№ 1982

Wisdumb In Them Thar Hills

Iffin you wuz to try to fail and succeeded, which one have you done?

Gosh! I'm sorry to throwed that atch y'all. I wudn't want to go make yer l'il pea-pickin' brains to get over-tacksed. It's jest coz that there dilemon's been a botherin' me to no end.

I ain't none too sure, but I think that kind of thinkin' is called logic. I reckon it's sorta like thinkin' outside the box. Now, I don't see no use innit a-tall. I mean, iffin somebody wuz to go and put me in a box, right straight I wud be thinkin' bout gettin' outta that box. Tarnation, anybody wiffin haff a brain wud be doin' the same thing!

Course, I'll be danged iffin' I can think of any reason why anyone wud let someone put them in a box in the firs' place, exceptin' if they wuz dead! And iffin they wuz dead, how are they s'posed to think bout gettin' outta the box?

I knows a lotta folks what's a-livin' who ain't none too good at thinkin', and that applies to most of the people what lives in these here hills. But I ain't ever met nary a dead person what can think, much less one what ever got outta the coffin.

I'll bet I dun hornswoggled the lot of y'all wiffin all that ramblin' bout logic and a-thinkin' outside the box. It don't make no sense, duz it? Yer durn tootin' it duzn't.

Well, I'm a-gonna to let y'all in on a secret. I dun figgered it out all by my lonesome! Yep, I did. Ya see it's like this, Big Ernie up yonder dun gave us brains to think wiff. Now his 'tenshuns wuz fer us to use them brains fer thinkin' whilst we are livin' and afore someone puts us in a box coz we's dead. So's ya see, we are s'posed to think outside the box.

Sure as my name is Cletus Clyde, I dun come to the 'clusion that "thinkin' outside the box" is one of them metalfors what they teached us bout in school. Ya know, maybe they's somethin' to that logic stuff after all.

They's one more thing what makes my brain busier than a cat tryin' to cover its poop on a marble floor. I reckon it must be anudder one of them metalfors what people say instead of jest sayin' what they mean.

Did anyone ever say to you to "read between the lines"? I ask ya, what kind of hair-brained thing is that to say? I tell you what, I got a spearmint fer you to try out. Wiffin that mouse thingy in yer hand jest mosey on up to some of the stuff I already writ up yonder.

Now, pick one them lines of words what has another line of words d'rectly neath it. Okay, now I defy you to read what's been writ tween them. You can't, can you?

Course not! They's nothin' writ there. They's nothin' but white tween them lines of words. I swear on my pack of Mail Pouch that I did not writ anything in white so as to trick ya!

Now see here, I dun got to the sixth grade by the time I wuz twenty-two, so that oughtta prove that I'm not a dumb idjit. Since I 'splained that "thinkin' outside the box" stuff to ya, won't someone try to 'splain what "readin' tween the lines" is s'posed to mean?

Well, afore I calls it a night I wanna tell y'all bout the awful nightmare I had today whilst I wuz a nappin'. I'm still a-shakin' from it. I ain't been that scared since I picked up a Chinese prostitute and came down with lead poisonin'.

I wuz a dreamin' that I wuz a-ridin' shotgun in a Toyota a-crossin' a bridge and Ted Kennedy wuz a drivin'.

Scary ain't it?

№ 1931

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Cletis Clyde here comin' atcha. Whilst Hale McKay is busy consecratin' on a-nudder one of his friction stories, I figgered I wud step in fer a spell. I reckon those of y'all who wastes yer time readin' this blog, knows who I be. Anyhow, I stop by from time to time to share wiffin' you folks some nekkid oats of the things what happens to me.

They's two things I knows a lot about. They is foods and womens. Yep, I knows my away 'round a table of food. They's been sayin' fer a long time that the way to a man's heart is thru his stomach. I guess that must be true, coz when I et some of the food cooked up by some of the gals in these here parts, I sure got some nasty heartburn.

My pappy once told me that when a gal cooked up some vittles, I should look at the food and then take a good look at her. His advice was to go fer the one what looked the best. It was mighty good advice too. It's like this, a lot the womens in the hills and hollers in the Appalachians ain't none too purty. You wudn't wanna be going ten toes down and ten toes up on an empty stomach wiffin them.

But they's always septshuns. They wuz this one gal what always looked better than the food she put on the table. Even though she wuz a purty thing, her cookin' gave roadkill a bad name! Her old hound dawg wudn't even eat what wuz leftover. I heared tell that the pigs out back of her paw's barn turned up their noses when slopped them leftovers. But that didn't stop me from callin' on her at breakfast time one day. Of course, I knowed fer a fact that her paw never got outta bed until after noon time.

Tiffany Biggins wuz jest 'bout the purtiest gal I ever knowed. And they ain't nobody I know that ever had a brick outhouse what wuz bilt better'n her. Yep, that's her pitcher yonder and I reckon you can tell that her last name was 'propriate enuff.

I'm sure that when you took a gander at her pitcher, you musta seen that she wuz a blonde! I always figgered that all them blonde jokes was bein' told by people what must have knowed her.

Bye and bye one day, to test my theery I came up wiffin' an idea to get me a peek at that Biggins gal's biggens. So I made a bet of five dollars wiff her that my titties wuz bigger'n hers. Well, she laffed and said I wuz stoopid coz boys don't have 'natomies like that of a girl. Shucks, she played right into my plan. So I said to her she wuz stallin' coz she wuz 'fraid a-losin' the bet.

I'm a-tellin' you, she wuz bound and 'termined to win that bet. She slapped down a five dollar bill on the table and lifted up the bottom of her tank top. Now whilst I wuz gettin' eyefuls of them, I swear my jaw bounced offin that table!

Real deliberate like I opened up my shirt. I said to her that she won the bet. I picked up the five dollar bill and handed it to her. I decided to high-tail it outta there a-fore she figgered out I tricked her and gave her back her own five dollars. She never let me forget the day she won that there bet!

As much as I knowed 'bout courtin' and spoonin' I thought the only way I wuz gonna get in her pants wuz fer me to steal them offin the clothes line and put 'em on and wear 'em myself. Well, the next time I went for breakfast at Tiffany's I had done come up with a nudder plan.

I wuz a sittin' at the table bidin' my time a-chewin' and a-chewin' on what wuz 'sposed to be bacon, but I 'spect it mighta been a piece of an old inner tube. Later on I realized it was in fact bacon, coz rubber ain't that hard to chaw upon.

Like I said a-fore, she wuz one of them gals what wuz better lookin' than the food she cooked. So I worked up the gumption to ask her a question what wuz on my mind. I asked her if she wuz a real blonde! Of course, I wuz a figgerin' I cud get her to prove it.

Tarnation, iffin she didn't cross me up and said I must be color blind. She said anyone could see that her hair was a yeller color. So I said I would rephrase the question. I decided to get all cycle-logical and told her I was wonderin' if her carpet wuz a match fer her curtains.

Danged iffin she didn't start laffin' and callin' me stoopid again. She asked why would she want a sheer rug or a braided curtain. She said it didn't make any sense a-tall.

Well, she left me with no recourse but to 'splain what I wuz a-gettin' at. I told her that real blondes has hair in both places that is yeller. I said the color of head hair should match the other hair down yonder, ceptin' I referred to down yonder wiffin a word more 'splicit.

A few days later I came a-callin' again at breakfast time. I wuz a feelin' good too, thinkin' she was gonna show me that she wuz a real blonde. Y'all ain't gonna believe what I saw when I came into her kitchen. Tarnation, iffin' that cat of hers what used to be black all over wuz bleached yeller all over!

Well after that day I gave up on courtin' Tiffany. I figgered any gal what wuz that dumb wuzn't worth gettin' indigestion or food poison over.

I did run into her a few years later. Gettin' as far as the ninth grade by the time she wuz twenty-three, she decided to use her schoolin' to go into bizness fer herself. She opened up a diner of all things. Wudn't y'all know it, there I wuz one mornin' stoppin' to have breakfast at Tiffany's again.

I asked her how her diner bizness wuz goin'. She said it wuzn't goin' none too good. She said she wuz changin' the menu all the time coz the customers didn't seem to like what she wuz a-servin' up. I wuzn't surprised, but to be friendly and all, I pertended to be and asked what she wuz puttin' on the menu.

She said she tried a lot of dif'rent things. One time she offered Bagels and Lox, but the first customer who tried to eat one broke two of his teeth when he bit into it. She said she lost money coz she had to throw away a heap of padlocks and combination locks. She said her Paw told her to sell poached eggs, but she refused to sell anything what wuz stolen from someone's hen house.

Then a cuzzin of hers who once visited England told her about somethin' called Bangers that they et over there. She said she figgered they must served flambay-like, so she lit 'em. She shook her head and said I wudn't believe what a firecracker goin' off in someone's mouth did to that one feller who ordered some of them bangers.

One lady complained about her soup special. She said they wuz more water than beans and there shud be more beans. Well, Tiffany counted 'one-two-three' right in front of the old gal and said she got what she ordered when she asked fer Three Bean Soup.

She said she thought 'bout addin' Pigs in a Blanket to the menu, but she didn't have a fryin' pan big enuff fer a whole pig and she figgered them quilted blankets might catch on fire.

She said that same cuzzin what had been to England also told her about a dessert what they like to eat over yonder. She said she ain't ever seen one and hoped she never did see one, but they was no way in hell she was gonna serve Spotted Dick.

When I asked her what her most pop'lar menu item wuz she said it wuz Fried Dough. I said that was a good thing to be on a menu. She shrugged her shoulders and said that even though it wuz her biggest seller at 49 cents, she wuz a losin' money on it.

I was curious and asked how wuz it that she wuz losin' money sellin' Fried Dough. She said she first noticed it when she run outta one dollar bills and had to start usin' fives. She saw me a-scratchin' my head. So she begin to 'splain how she wud dip a dollar bill in the batter, then drop it in a fryin' pan of grease and then serve it to a customer. She shook her head and said she cudn't figger out how at the end of the day when she counted the money in her register she always ended up wiffin less than when she opened up the diner.

I walked to the door and a'fore I left I said to her, "Tiffany, ater all this time a-knowin' you, I've come to the 'clusion fer sure that yer a REAL blonde!"

№ 1902

Hit Me With All You've Got!

Yup it's me, Cletus Clyde. I up and snuck in here on Hale's site fer a look see.

It came to my 'tenshun that last Saturday this here Blog had a hit what made the site counter go to 350,000! Iffin y'all don't believe me, I done took the liberty to copy and paste what wuz on the counter page. This wuz what wuz there:

Your counter was created on January 31, 2007 at 12:51 am CST with a starting count of 44777. You currently have your counter set to increment on All Hits.

Total Hits: 350000
Hits Today (so far): 162
Hits Since Start: 305223
Average Daily Hits Since Start: 285.91

350,000! That's almost as many hits what my ol' lady's done walloped me wiffin her cast iron fryin' pan!

I wuz a-gonna give that good ol' boy a slap on the back for 'chievin' all them hits. Then I got to thinkin'. Why would that many people come to this site fer? Well, they wuzn't a-comin' here to read his'n stuff.

They wuz a comin' fer my stuff. I'm a reg'lar contra-beauter at this here site. That number got so high, coz them people wuz a droppin' in to see iffin I made any contra-beautshuns lately.

I reckon I'll contra-boot somethin' from my Redneck Dickshunary. One cain't be learnin' enuff new words. I didn't make it to the 9th grade by the time I wuz turned 22 years old, wiff out learnin' at least one new word every s'mester.

Experts Frum the Redneck Dickshunary

Fast food - the rabbit that got away

Bipolar - when those big white bears go either way

Eskimo Pie - what an Aleutian leaves behind when a bipolar bear winks at him

Superbowl - what you might need if you order super size at Chili-rama

Calligraphy - life story of the Roman emperor Caligula

Retrofitting - trying to get an ass too big into jeans too small

One size fits all - false claim by manufacturer that leads to retrofitting

Circumspect - look to see if anything is left after being circumcised

Subdued - a sailor on one of them boats that go underwater

Promenade - spiked punch at a school dance

Conjugal visit - when a woman visits her man in prison and they sit together and conjugate verbs

Scrutinize - undress a woman with one's eyes

Election - what oriental man gets when he scrutinizes

Titular - kind of scrutinizing that gives man an election

Dictator - what Mr. Potato Head becomes when he scrutinizes

Tandem - what happened when she sunbathed topless

Kumquat - meaning unknown, but it sounds dirty - don't it?

Limpid - a man's deflated ego

№ 1881

Who Is This Christmas Carol?

...And What's She Doing on My Lawn?


Hi there, y'all! Santa Cletus here. I'm a droppin' by to spread some good ol' fashun Christmas cheer.

It's a festive time of year. Yup, it's a time fer plannin' parties and get togethers wiff friends and family alike. My buddies and me we wuz a plannin' to do some carousin' down at the new Hooters what jest opened up last week on the outskirts of town.

Hell, we's jest a bunch of good ol' boys what wants to have a good time. That's all. But my wife looks at thangs contrary to the way I do. When I told her 'bout our plans, gosh-a-mighty iffin she didn't hit the ceilin'.

She asked why I wanted to go to that din of equity fer in the firs' place.

Well, I answered her all smug-like and said I cud think of at least two reasons.

Lawd a-mighty! You ain't ever had a headache 'til you done got walloped wiffin a cast iron skillet atop yer noggin! I wuz a seein' so many stars, they wuz a formin' consolations.

Well I uppin and grabbed my jug and went outside to sit on the porch fer a spell. I put a plug of Skoal twixt my cheek and gums and sat there a mindin' my own bizness. I figgered I cudn't get into much more trubble wiffin the ol' lady with that ol' transmission a propped agin the screen door so's she couldn't come out.

Then I heared sum God-awful sound like what a wounded hound dog might make. Then I saw this woman comin' outta the woods and trespassin' on my property. When I got a good look at her I realized she wuz one of them gals what sings in the balcony on Sundays down at the church.

Despite fallin' down a couple of times and by all appearances a looking like she wuz drunker than a cat in a bag of catnip, she gave me a holler. She said she wuz out and 'bout a Christmas caroling. She said she wuz full of the Christmas spirit. One thang was fer sure. She was full of some kind of spirits.

Well, she began a singin' that there 12 Days of Christmas song. Tarnation, iffin all them coons, possums and coyotes out yonder in the woods didn't start joinin' in.

It jest so happens I was able to tape her number. See that there box down there 'neath these words I'm a typin'? All ya gotta do is click on that triangle thingie and like magic you can hear what she wuz a singin'.



Purty soon she jest crawled away into the woods. I s'pect she must a slept it off out yonder somewhere in the woods.

Well, that put me in the mood fer some more Christmas music. So's I went back in the house, cranked up the phonograph and put on my favorite Christmas record. It's all about the angel what sits on top of Christmas trees this time of year.

Iffin ya have the gumption and want to hear the song, jest press that triangle thingie on that next box down yonder.



I have some other Christmas records I like too. Theys some purty good songs. Maybe you've heared tell of them.

I'll Be Stoned For Christmas ¹

I Came Upon a Roadkill Deer ²

Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire ³

Sung to the tunes of:

¹ - I'll be Home For Christmas
² - It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
³ - Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire

№ 1866

Cletis Clyde: Talkin' Turkey

Howdee do, folks. Cletis Clyde here. I jest installed my brand-spankin' new weather predictin' thing-a-mabob out yonder in the back yard. The feller down at the hardware store tol' me it was state-of-the-art, but he wuzn't sure which state the art wuz done in.

Ya know, I'm a-thinkin' he might a hornswoggled me outta $4.95, plus tax. The way I sees it, that danged thing ain't gonna be predictin' no weather until after what weather they's a gonna be happens.

I'm a-fixin' to march right back down there and demand a refund. They's better things to spend my hard-earned unemployed money on. Hell, I can buys me some Carlings or Pabsts, d'pends on which one is on sale, and get drunk. Then I won't be payin' no never mind to what the weather is. Yup, that's what I'm a-gonna do. I'll show that feller that he's gonna hafta get up awful late in the afternoon to pull a fast one over my eyeballs!

Tarnation! Would ya lookie yonder. The sun's done settin' and it ain't even four thirty yet! Have I ever tol' y'all jest how much I hate it when they decide to turn the clocks back fer daylight stealin' time? It ain't fair, 'specially to us ordinary folks. When I roll outta bed 'round two o'clock they's only about two or three hours of daylight left. Damned iffin' the whole day ain't been wasted!

Can y'all believe it? Next week is Thanksgivin' Day. It sure 'nuff snuck up on me this here year. I wuz a sittin' on the porch swing the udder day a thinkin' 'bout Thanksgivin' and how it come to be a holiday in the firs' place. I come to the 'clusion that the story what's in the histry books jest cain't be true.

Think 'bout it. These Pilgims, they's all dressed up in their Sunday-best clothes and they get off a boat at Plymouth Rock? Right off, that part oughta have ya scratchin' yer noggins. They didn't have cars back then, so how in the hell wuz they gonna name that rock after one?

Still ain't convinced that story ain't nothin' but a crock what wuz made up so's state and fed'ral workers can get a-nudder day off wiff pay? Are you really inclined to believe that those Injuns a-wearin' nuffin' but moccasins and loin cloths jest up and walked right outta the woods and greeted these Quackers who was a-wearin' hats and shoes with buckles on them?

Hell no! Them natives woulda been a-hidin' in the bushes and a-whisperin' amongst their friends, "Aw, shit! There goes the neighborhood!" What finally brung them out in the open, y'all ask? They jest kept a-watching them until they wuz good and ready to make contack. Ya see, they wuz a watchin' them Pilgrim gals a-takin' baths down by the river. Jest like men today, them braves weren't very long a-fore they's starting to get cardinal ideas - iffin ya gets my drift.

It's prolly true what them histry books say 'bout them Injuns bein' right neighborly and teachin' this country's firs' boat people how to plant corn and stuff. Them Injuns knew all about reapin' and sowin' and plantin' seeds, coz they lived off the land. They weren't as s'fistocated as that tribe what lived out in Ohio what called themselves the Cleveland Indians.

But don't be so indignorant to think that them Injuns wuzn't doin' a lot of their own reapin' and sowin' and plantin' of their own seeds. Now whilst Miles Standish and John Alden was a-fightin' over Priscilla Mullens, they wuzn't payin' much 'tention jest what she wuz up to. Well, I 'spect she wuz busy learnin' from one of them braves all about plantin' and such. A-fore one them Pilgrim fellers had the chance, I'm purty sure that Injun was a'ready making sure her garden wuz fertilized.

Well, Alden ended up winnin' Priscilla fer his wife when he gave her one of them makeup things wiff a mirror and stuff to put on her face. Yup, you done guessed right. It was the Mayflower Compact. They sure did a lot of reapin' and sowin' and plantin' too, cause they had ten younguns. Accordin' to histry, that woman was born in Surrey County in the south of England. Y'all ain't gonna believe the name of the town she wuz born in. I ain't lying, the town wuz named Dorking! I figgers that wuz why she wuz so good at reapin' and sowin' and plantin'.

They's anudder thing I think is phony 'bout that first Thanksgivin'. Where in the hell did they come up with all them vittles they had? Yeah, they wuz wild turkeys in the woods and they did manage to plant some corn, but what 'bout the rest of that spread? Mash taters, cranberry sauce and apple pies? Come on folks, smarten up! There wuzn't anywhere near where theys coulda went shoppin' at a Winn-Dixie or a Krogers or even a Piggly Wiggly. They wuzn't even a convenience store in them parts.

I guess it don't matter nohow what's true and what's not true about Thanksgivin' Day. All I knows is that I'm gonna eat till I gotta loosen my belt and watch me some football games. Who knows, after she's done cleanin' up, and iffin' I'm lucky, maybe the ol' lady'll let me do some plantin' of my own!

Well, a-fore I run off to the hardware store to get my money back fer that weather thingy, they's somethin' I wanna tell you 'bout. It's 'bout what happened to me the udder day down at the fillin' station when I wuz a-gettin' gas fer my weed-eater.

I wuz a mindin' my own bizness when this purty gal pulled up in a fancy red car. Well, she commenced to open the hood and then wuz a-lookin' inside at the enjun like she wuz a-tryin' to see why her motor wuzn't runnin' proper like. She wuz a-wearin' cut-off shorts so tight they must-a been spray-painted on her! Lookin' at that sure enuff got my motor a-runnin', iffin ya get my drift.

Well I had jest worked up enuff gumption to mosey on over there to see iffin I could do somethin' 'bout both our motors. A-fore I got there, this guy pulled up in a truck and asked me fer d'rections to the Interstate.

I spied his plate and seen that he wuz from Tennessee. So I asked him where he wuz a-headin'. He tol' me he was goin' to Pennsylvania for some homemade apple pie. I said to him that that would make fer some good words to put in a song. He said that someone had a'ready done a song like that. Tarnation, I thought. Jest like that someone up and stole my idea.

When he pulled off in his truck I remembered that gal wiff them tight shorts on. Danged if I didn't turn around and she wuzn't a-drivin' off too. Well, I guess they wuz a lesson to be learned there. You fellas out there, I'm gonna leave you wiff some sound advice.

When you see tight shorts on a purty butt, pay no 'tention to the ass what asks fer d'rections.

Well, I hope y'all have a happy Thanksgiving. So r'member, pay more 'tention to the turkeys what's served to you and less 'tention to what udder turkeys be sittin' 'round the table.

№ 1846