A
Anonymous
Guest
Fellas,
Its me all rite. I'm way up near bout in the tundra. We aint seen no snow 'er eskymoes yet, but it iz a heap a folks that like ta say "eh" 'n drink beer.
Day #1 we ate grits over ta the Icebox Cafe. I had 3-4 helpings, but dont tell Swampy 'er Chuck. Before we left the waitress come up 'n put her hand on my leg cuz she liked my tie. Dont none a ya'll ever badmouth my tie agin. I hope Bambi dont take her ta Fist City.
After we ate, we went ta the Canuckamart. Its like Wal-Mart but it dont have nuthin' but lumberjack shirts, crosscut saws, beer 'n Mister Stinky (thats outdoor oil ta run off the skeeters 'n flies). Dapper Al sez he aint wearin' none cuz a hiz image. Ya'll ought not ta egg him on no more, cuz now he figgers he iz a Quarterly Gentlemen.....kinda like Ole Clifford Jacobs.
Later we had ta throw Bears Buddy in the lake cuz he spilt the Mister Stinky all over hizownself. It warnt eazy 'n Draino had ta wash down cuz he rubbed up on Bears Buddy too much tusslin' round the lake.
As the sun went down we went ta singin' campfire songs....mostly Coon by Ya 'n some I leant back when I went down ta Cuba ta fight the Spanish. After a few songs, the loons went ta singin' real loud, so we put away the guitars 'n popped some a that United Nations seed corn we bought off the Rhodesians.
I went ta sippin' the single malt 'n fired up a cigar. Mister Stinky aint near bout az rank az my cigars. That evenin' we never seen the first skeeter 'er black fly. The stench wuz first rate. It aint eazy ta tell how bad a smell iz with a word. We all tried ta find a good one, but we jest give up after a while.
It iz a good thing the Sparkanator, Swampy 'n Oldyaker aint on this trip. Ever nite we tell Clifford Jacobs tales 'n tie knots 'n build fires jest like Ole Cliff done fer them midgets that went off in the woods with him.
We didnt bring no midgets with us. It would hold us back on the Superior Lake. They got little bitty hands, little bitty feet, little bitty voices gwine "cheep, cheep, cheep". We dont want no short people round here.
I tole some mitey fine jokes, but ever body wuz so tired.
best regards,
jack
real ole fart
P.S. Oh yeah. After supper injuns come at us. We fought 'em fer hours, but jest before midnite, the injuns begun ta fall back. Wonder what the injun word iz fer "really bad stinky"? :mrgreen:
We plan ta leave the KOA with the sunrise 'n git on the lake by noon.
Its me all rite. I'm way up near bout in the tundra. We aint seen no snow 'er eskymoes yet, but it iz a heap a folks that like ta say "eh" 'n drink beer.
Day #1 we ate grits over ta the Icebox Cafe. I had 3-4 helpings, but dont tell Swampy 'er Chuck. Before we left the waitress come up 'n put her hand on my leg cuz she liked my tie. Dont none a ya'll ever badmouth my tie agin. I hope Bambi dont take her ta Fist City.
After we ate, we went ta the Canuckamart. Its like Wal-Mart but it dont have nuthin' but lumberjack shirts, crosscut saws, beer 'n Mister Stinky (thats outdoor oil ta run off the skeeters 'n flies). Dapper Al sez he aint wearin' none cuz a hiz image. Ya'll ought not ta egg him on no more, cuz now he figgers he iz a Quarterly Gentlemen.....kinda like Ole Clifford Jacobs.
Later we had ta throw Bears Buddy in the lake cuz he spilt the Mister Stinky all over hizownself. It warnt eazy 'n Draino had ta wash down cuz he rubbed up on Bears Buddy too much tusslin' round the lake.
As the sun went down we went ta singin' campfire songs....mostly Coon by Ya 'n some I leant back when I went down ta Cuba ta fight the Spanish. After a few songs, the loons went ta singin' real loud, so we put away the guitars 'n popped some a that United Nations seed corn we bought off the Rhodesians.
I went ta sippin' the single malt 'n fired up a cigar. Mister Stinky aint near bout az rank az my cigars. That evenin' we never seen the first skeeter 'er black fly. The stench wuz first rate. It aint eazy ta tell how bad a smell iz with a word. We all tried ta find a good one, but we jest give up after a while.
It iz a good thing the Sparkanator, Swampy 'n Oldyaker aint on this trip. Ever nite we tell Clifford Jacobs tales 'n tie knots 'n build fires jest like Ole Cliff done fer them midgets that went off in the woods with him.
We didnt bring no midgets with us. It would hold us back on the Superior Lake. They got little bitty hands, little bitty feet, little bitty voices gwine "cheep, cheep, cheep". We dont want no short people round here.
I tole some mitey fine jokes, but ever body wuz so tired.
best regards,
jack
real ole fart
P.S. Oh yeah. After supper injuns come at us. We fought 'em fer hours, but jest before midnite, the injuns begun ta fall back. Wonder what the injun word iz fer "really bad stinky"? :mrgreen:
We plan ta leave the KOA with the sunrise 'n git on the lake by noon.
