Thursday, July 29, 2010

Some Texas talk for Kay Day

On Tuesday I went to a hotel in Colorado Springs to a “write-out” with a bunch of writer friends. My friend Kay Day went with me and on the way back, some how we started talking in our southern accents. (Thank God no actual southerners were with us – we didn’t do them justice.)


In honor of that one hour ride full of giggling and silliness, I would like to throw out a few phrases from my home of Texas. I dedicate this to Kay Day and any other person who thinks its fun to talk like a hick sometimes. No disrespect intended. :0)

Kay Day, did you see that fella at my party last week? Well, he was ugly as a mud fence! He’s ugly as homemade soap and you know he’s dumber than dirt! He tried to sell me sumthin at my party and I knew he was crooked as a barrel of snakes. But I’m tough as a boot and quick as a hiccup so I hightailed it away from him.

But wouldn’t you know? He followed me. I got plum frustrated as a one-legged man at a butt-kicking contest! He started to honest to goodness stalk me. Made me nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs!

I told him, “Why don’t you go to the house?”

I tell ya what, Kay, he was plug-ugly and mean and dag nab it, he wouldn’t go!

So I said, “Listen, come hell or high water, you are going to go! You are bout as welcome here as a skunk at a lawn party.”

He just stared at me. I tell you he must got whooped with an ugly stick cause he was down right frightful.

It started raining sumthin awful, a real frog-strangler! Apparently, this bothered him, cuz he finally turned and headed to his pick up truck. I saw the 22 across the back window, and I got shaky, but he started her up and lit out.

Supper was calling my name and that’s when we all went in and sat down for grub.

Did you see him? He was sumthin sorry, all right! Lower than a snake’s belly in my book. I feel a little bad for him though. I heard he was so poor he and his brother had to ride double on their stick horse.

Oh well. That’s a whole nuther story. :0)

11 comments:

denise said...

You're a funny thing. Very creative. I have a Kay-Day-themed post too. She's more popular than popsicles in summer. :D

Robbie Iobst said...

Thank you Denise. I don't talk hick very often, so it was fun. Wouldn't want to do it everyday. But popsicles in summer sound like a nice daily habit. Sugar free, of course. Sigh. :0)

Kay Day said...

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! If that ain't the dangdest thing. That feller come to visit? He was my brother.

Joanna said...

Don't forget "fixin' to" as in "I'm fixin' to go to the store," and "y'all" (NOT ya'll).

Jan Parrish said...

Yikes, this here got me to choke on my sweet tea. I just about busted my gut.

Robbie Iobst said...

Oh my goodness, y'all makin me homesick! Kay, have you ever heard anyone say butter my butt? :0) That's a new one!

Jo, Y'all and Ya'll - is that just a spelling differnce?

Jan, Oh, what I'd do for sum good ole' sweet Texas tea. We used to have huge glasses just fer our tea. :0)

Kay Day said...

I saw it in on a doormat in a catalog. :)

tonya said...

Like Jan, I almost spit out my coffee from laughing so hard! I think dumber than dirt must make its rounds because I have said that, and my family is from West Virginia. :)

Hilarious post, Robbie!

Paula said...

I figger ya'll are makin fun of some of the best dern talk on God's green earth. I'm fixin' to ta get homesick. Might just have to barrel on home if the creek don't rise. And come hell or highwater nothin' will stop me from lovin' the language from when I was a young whippersnapper. And my grandpa, God rest his soul, told the best stories with the best colloquialisms around. What I'd give to sit at Grandma's table and hear him say, "I only like two kinds of pie: hot and cold."

I think I write stories now because I loved his so much.

Cheryl Barker said...

Riding double on a stick horse... That's one I haven't heard before :)

Momstheword said...

How about a little cowboy talk? "He's crooked enough to sleep on a corkscrew." "Dry as the dust in a mummy's pocket."
"Scarce as bird dung in a cuckoo clock."

LOVE your story.