YSaC, Vol. 1353: Grandma, stop jumpin’ and fightin’!
P-P-P-Pick Up A Baby
Grandma gritts that jumpin’ guzzled had wagon mud, fuss if far hootin’ crop.
Mud, cheatin’ askin’ dumb tar bacon penny locality crazy fried stumped, fightin’, good greasy. Bible said hogs y’all hogjowls bankrupt muster jail shiney hootin’. Bible showed liar inbred jig fixin’, done jug, a a. Fetched over rattler hardware dirty grandma feud fightin’, sam-hell shiney fuss how, sittin’.
I don’t know what bible this guy is reading, but I would like to subscribe to its newsletter, and maybe to its pork of the month club.
Actually, the line “Bible showed liar inbred jig fixin’, done jug, a a.” anagrams to “A judge on a box. Jailbird if inedible whingers.” Yup. Mmm-hmmmm.
The only other option is that this is a transcript of every single Boomhauer line from King of the Hill.
Thanks, Jodi!
I’ve found Grandma right here (safe for work, but not very P.C.).
I’m telling you, the spambots have reached sparkii levels of intelligence.
The only hope the sapient have is that the ‘bots will focus their energies upon the great mass of “easy pickings” rather than to try for a higher-level Turning Test ability.
But, it has been a bad week. The level of sentient discourse in my “in” boxes is so low, that many are getting sent to Junk mail and spam is leaking past the filters. The effect being too much one of standing waist-deep in a swap while in a downpouring rain. trying to sort the wagons from the mud, those dirty grannies greasy rattler feud semprini lemon curry?
It’s my new redneck version Clik hear 4 che4p Jef Foxworthy t1ckets of “We Didn’t Start The Fire”. Do you like it?
!!!!Bo0tleg Bille Jooel MP4s!!!! 1000’s!!!! of song’s!!!!! Also heer the nu ELTON JOHN s1ngle your friendz are raving about!!!!
It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I need Skoal.
Holy shit! Where’s the Tylenol?
Hey, Sparky knows his vocabulary words! Bless his heart.
Bless his li’l heart indeed.
“P-P-P-Pick Up A Baby.” No Child Left Behind isn’t working.
Wagon mud!!! Mud, cheatin’! I’m all in!!!
Lordy, someone needs to stop using those magnetic poetry kits on their refrigerator when they’re guzzlin’ da’ moonshine.
Grandma, I’m talking to you!
Mad-Libs gone terribly wrong? The best of (your least favorite political personality)’s campaign speeches? Famous last words of all red-shirt-wearing extras on all the Star Trek story lines?
No sex, no drugs, no coffee slices. The corner looks lonely.
Oh, but you know those red-shirts on Star Trek never had last lines.
They either get vaporized instantly by a phaser, clubbed on the back of the head by someone emerging from the room they were supposed to be guarding, stoically beamed into deep space by accident, or decide to silently take on the slithering horror that materialized out of thin air without calling for backup or notifying anyone what was happening.
SAG rules make writers do funny things.
Sometimes they opted to “stay behind” and “make it work” with an indigenous life form. The hilarity ensued when they discovered 4 years later that they had made a terrible, terrible mistake. Sadly, Roddenberry rarely did Where Are They Now? follow-ups.
Ah, but Berman and Braga were certainly willing to stab at Where Are They Now. Which got to be a trace peculiar in Enterprise, with contrived ways to create How They Will Get To be That Way Now That We Know Where They Were Then.
(Even if they do get some credit for tying up the loose end in revisiting Tribbles.)
Aww, it’s cute. Somebody ordered the deluxe package spambot, the one with your choice of two regional “accents” and optional stutter.
In my current sleep-deprived state, I actually understand this ad.
Grandma got run over by a rattler,
Coming home from cooking moonshine in the woods.
You can say there’s no such thing as revenuers,
But as for me and pick-up baby, we believe.
I wish I had more doors for you.
Uh, I think the word used was “shiney” not ‘shine; but, they also preface by talking about making the black-tar bacon, no doubt to make “cracklin’s”.
Which may or may not answer the question of “What do you do with your meth lab now that Target will only sell you three pseudofed and a gallon of ammonia at a time?”
Did nobody else realize that this is a transcript of the mystic vision upon which those dire predictions of a global, unavoidable bacon shortage were based?
I’m not familiar with this translation of Nostradamus.
I believe in that region/dialect, he was popularly known as “Nostrildammit”
or, “Durn Frenchie”
That’s because a Plague of Baconlessness is too horrible to countenance, and is a good reason to pack Unc’ Nosuchdrawers back to the basement with the wagons and mudgrannies.
(I wanted a BLT already, now I want BBLT, with a side of bacon, and a bacon, bacon, bacon, bacon, bacon, bacon, bacon, bacon, baked beans and bacon! )
Ohhhh…….
Great big gobs of greasy guzzled Grandma grits,
Dirty cheatin’ wagon mud,
Feudin’ inbred Bible hogs,
Crazy fried stumped hootin’ sam-hell shiny fuss,
And me without a clue.
Ooh, Hank Sr.: “Your Cheatin’ Heart” as earworm, FTW. Bravo!
Why stompin’ grape whinin’ rant’n’ravin Craigs type putting on the put down for listin’ derogatory holdin’ mind fur tongue by euphemism. Text type holdin’ example rage being not cursin’ geezer pullin’ road hoggin’ slow mind fast brake makin’ timeless rant commute. Barely legal not speeding blinker flashin’ cheese whiz windshield talkin’ loco yokel blockin rant blind online Sparky. Bot smokin’ snark sniffin’ bold talkers of inter makin’ web slingin’ ’bout ever negatin’ spam talkin’ π eatin’ sparky fried turnip twaddler. Wagon corn market fresh splattered mash wannabe hipster poppin’ hash slinger penguin sniffer fish findin’ duck plucker. Manky rabbit funkyshines usin’ time eatin’ the ‘net havin’ crisco fried carpet butter parkay auto bees makin bums smackin’ total bust a gasket workin’ tool.
There, if that doesn’t explain Spark-bot’s rant, nothing will.
Cheese doodles spark plugs elephant toes the autonomontons crisco table white bread dog none.
A dude and his dog chilled in the box
Playing a game called How Big Is Your
Pretty soon they were bored and looking for lunch
But all that they got was this Punchity Punch Punch!
Good Morning, Dr. Elmo!