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Ah, yup. You can prolly remove auto paint with soap and water.
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witch's tit
Better keep those brass monkeys inside.
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Joined: Jun 2002
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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brass monkeys that was my next one!
formerly known as etaoin...
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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of course, if it were really cold, it would be a witches tit in a brass bra...
formerly known as etaoin...
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From toit to tit (French to English), as well as tectum to pectus (Latin). O, non texi ergo peccavi!
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Carpal Tunnel
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OP
Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Oct 2000
Posts: 5,400 |
silly me--i was thinking along the lines of 'crooked as a ram horn--only well more colorful.. DR Phil is a TV psycologist (think of Fraizer with a TV show!) only as stuffy and proper as Fraizer was, Dr. Phil tries to show he is a country boy from texas (even if he is dressed in suilt, graduated from yale, and host of a network TV show!)
he's gone from the classic 'do i look like i just fell off a turnup truck?" to other ver elabroate phrases..(and all of them pass muster on network TV-I don't think slick than owl shit would..
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The lawn needs mowed. Perfect! Such economy of words, without wasted thought. Ted, you sound like Lionel Twain (Truman Capote) admonishing the great Chinese detective Professor Wang (Peter Sellers) in the Neil Simon 1976 movie Murder By Death when he shrieked... "Listen, you rotund escapee from a fire drill, Say...Your... Damn... ARTICLES!  Or something like that.  Air conditioning, not television, is the reason that most southerners speak poorly today. The south is hot. It is so hot down here that our jaybirds go buck naked and laze under oak trees that sell them shade for ten cents a spot. Down here it is so hot that most southerners became philosophers and poets because the extreme heat and humidity makes it unhealthy to do real work. Imagine this scene from the fifties... Two handsome southern gentlemen sit rocking in chairs on the front porch of a weather-beaten farmhouse. Two hours past; then one speaks... Milo: The lawn needs mowed. Uncle Dan: (five minutes past.) (Uncle Dan nods.) (Uncle Dan understands that Milo was simply stating a fact. No where in his statement is an implied "to be". Mowed is used as an adjective of lawn and "needs" is simply a negating form of mowed, and no one is expected to mow any lawn any time - ever.) An hour passes. Milo: Dan, best hide the women folk. Uncle Dan: ( Only two minutes past. Then Uncle Dan nods, and slowly gets up and goes into the house and hides the women folk.) (In a cloud of dust a 1957 fishtailed Buick pulls up and stops in front of the farm house. A dapper man wearing a white hat and white socks and a shiny green sport coat with matching alligator shoes gets out of the Buick and walks over and asks for a drink of water...unfortunately he forgets himself and asks for the water in Latin and is misunderstood.) And then he says... jheem: From toit to tit (French to English), as well as tectum to pectus (Latin). O, non texi ergo peccavi! Milo: (Shouting) Uncle Dan! Bring yourself here right this minute. This furriner here needs watered. You go and show him the well and stuff him right in! Uncle Dan was slow but he jumped. He showed jheem the well and stuffed him in. Afterwards Milo and Uncle Dan rode around for a few weeks in jheem's '57 fish-tail Buick until they wrecked it. Then they towed it over to Billy Earl's garage to get it fixed but Billy Earl said it weren't worth fixing. Jheem? Jheem is fine. After a fashion he climbed out of the well, dumped his wet clothes and, naked as a jaybird, he walked over to Massey's General Store and bought himself some nice appropriate duds and joined the Free-will Baptist Church. Never again did jheem ( who now pronounces his name gee-uh-UM like they do down south) ever speak devil talk when in the company of the good citizenry of the ignorant South. ___________________________________________ The End
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Storytime, or Not Knowing Somebody From a Load of Hay
One bright fall day, little Fred (for in those days jheem had yet to take Sanskrit) and his Uncle Bill were driving an old Ford F-100 truck with a full load of hay to a local racetrack. Along the way, they passed a decrepid old farm with a handpainted sign out front that read: "Wood for Sale" only the s in sale was written backwards.
Fred: Ha! The guy who wrote that sign sure was ignorant! He got his s backwards.
Uncle Bill: Well, not really. He did it on purpose, so that folks who buy anything from him would feel superior in their spelling skills, forget themselves, and not bargain as hard as they should over the price. You see, I went to grammar school with the fellow who owns that farm, and he spells as well as the rest of us.
Fred: Hmm.
Later in life, and while travelling the Old South, jheem (for he had since studied Panini's grammar, as well as Shakespeare's) was supsicious of any self-professed ignorance on the part of any part of the populace, and learned to judge a person's morals by his actions and not his accent or grammar.
Moral of the story: A person may change his accent or grammar but not his ethics.
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Moral of the story: A person may change his accent or grammar but not his ethics.
Moral of semantics: A person may change his ideas about ethics;
but not his morals without compromising his sense of self.
______________________________ Johnny "Gitar" Watson, Summer, 1957.
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Moral of semantics: A person may change his ideas about ethics; but not his morals without compromising his sense of self.
O che sciagura d'essere senza coglioni!
Francois Marie Arouet (aka Voltaire) [1694–1778]
Young Folklorist: Mr Spence, I couldn't help noticing that you play all of your songs in the same tuning, dropped-D tuning, and the same key, D major. Why is that?
Spence: I used to know all them keys! I knew 'em all: A, and B, and D, and F, and H ... I used to know all them keys!
YF: Well, Mr Spence, if that's true, then why do you play everything in the same key of D? Why don't you use any of those other keys?
Spence: I got tired of 'em!
In memoriam. Joseph Spence [1910–1984]
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