That ol' Festus Joe is at it agin. Every since folks down here to the trailer park done started ravin on 'bout how good his secret recipe coon casserole is, he done thinks he's some kind o' coolenairy expert or somethin. Right now he's slavin away at the hot plate fixin us up a great big ol pot o' beans and hamhocks. It shure smells mighty fine. Smells like we's in fer another night o' good fixins.
Now that I done and said somethin nice bout Festus I suppose t'wouldn't be too bad if I done told a story bout him. It all started when I said I wanted to write somethin on this here contraption but I couldn't think o' nuthin to write. He done said "Bertha Mae, I'm fixin us some beans and hamhocks. Why can't you write about that? You're just like the Queen a England. You want it all. Damn Queen a England." Then, y'all know what he said after that? He done said it's my fault them space aliens ain't come and picked him up yet. I'll admit I mighta gone and done somethin to scare them space aliens away, but it ain't my fault they ain't comin back. Mercy sakes alive, me and Festus ain't attached at the hip or nuthin. Them space aliens could come and get him when I ain't around. But that ain't the way Festus thinks. Course it would be all my fault they ain't took him yet. He gots to blame it on somebody.
posted by Bertha
on 12:36 PM |
I a in't in no way affilitated
with no one by the name a trailer_park_honey. She's a liar and a thief.
That don't mean I'm sayin nuthin bad bout this here lady who's a right fine singer.
