Monday, 12-3-07
Clem: Yew ready fer Christmas, cuz?
Lem: Yup!
Clem: Oh, rilly? Whut yew done to prepare?
Lem: Booked a night in a manger.
Clem: In a manger?
Lem: Yup. Sally Jo wantered to go to a birfin’ cinter, but Ah said no way! Whut’s good enough for Jesus’s momma is good enough for her.
Clem: Whut if Sally Jo don’t have the baby by Christmas naht?
Lem: Then we’ll jest go back to the shed behind Aunt Larry’s.
Clem: It’s kinder manger-y anyway.
Lem: Hadn’t thought-a that. Yore right!
Clem: Mmm hmm.
Lem: Wonder if Ah kin git my manger deposit back.
Tuesday, 11-13-07
Clem: Why the long face?
Lem: Ah got mah head caught in Uncle Annis’s teat stretcher, if’n yew must know!
Clem: (stifles a chortle)
Lem: Laugh if’n yew want, but a face ain’t meant to be stretched so.
Clem: Ah’m sorry. Ah din’t mean ta laugh.
Lem: Wail, go ahead an’ say it!
Clem: Say whut?
Lem: “Ah tol’ yew not to mess with Uncle Annis’s teat stretcher!” Say it! Yew know yew want to.
Clem: Ah’d never say ‘er.
Lem: Ow, it hurts.
Clem: Looks painful.
Lem: An’ now all of my hats is too big for mah haid.
Wednesday, 10-17-07
Clem: Yew look tickled.
Lem: Yeah. Ah am.
Clem: Care to say why?
Lem: Not rilly.
Clem: Why no - wait a mennet - where’s mah jacket?
Lem: (snickers)
Clem: Ah lef’ mah jacket on the balustrade agin, din’t Ah?
Lem: Ah hope not. My momma tol’ yew yew best not do ‘er agin.
Clem: Where’s mah jacket?
Lem: (studies ceiling)
Clem: Yew stuck mah jacket in the smokehouse agin, din’t yew?
Lem: (shrugs)
Clem: Took six weeks ‘fore the dawgs stopped follerin’ me last tahm.
Lem: (shrugs)
Clem: (walks off, muttering to self)
Sunday, 10-7-07
"How is the man who is so wealthy he becomes dulled to the thrill of biting the head off a crawfish better off than the poor man who can afford crawfish so rarely that each instance of biting the head off of one is like the first?” - Clem
Sunday, 9-23-07
“‘Hit ain’t how fast yew walk down to the river, ‘hit’s whether they’s enough daylight left to skin the cat by when yew git back.” - Clem
Sunday, 9-16-07
Clem: You ‘member whut today is?
Lem: Sundee!
Clem: An’? Whut else?
Lem: (scratches head) Mah birfday?
Clem: No, hit’s the day we’s ‘sposed to go faish’n wif Aunt Larry!
Lem: Whut?! Tha’s redeckulous.
Clem: Why so?
Lem: Cuz no faish in his raht mind is gonna fall for Aunt Larry as no bait is why!
Clem: No, yew idjit. We ain’t… we’s ‘sposed to… aw, fergit it.
Lem: Ah, mean, granted, the scent is daid on.
Clem: Ah said fergit it.
Lem: But her looks’d scare off most anything but bottom feeders.
Monday, 9-3-07
Lem: (sigh!)
Clem: Whut’s got yew so down in the mouf’, cuz?
Lem: Ah’m sad cuzza whut ‘at ‘ol Michael Vick dun.
Clem: Yeah, ‘em dawgs whut suffered. Sad.
Lem: Oh. (pause) Yeah. (pause) That too.
Clem: Whut else’s there to be sad ‘bout?
Lem: Ah had ol’ Mike on mah fantsy team, an’ Ah’m in one ‘em keeper leagues.
Clem: (speechless)
Lem: Ah’ll never win ‘at shiny trophy now.
Clem: (walks away, shaking head, muttering)
