You know what really bangs on my head like a hammer ‘till dawn?  Senile old peoples.  Like when grandmaw starts-a-thinkin’ I’m still but five years of old, and then she aims to take a stick to me back behind the wood shed.  Or when she goes to the fridgidaire to get’s herself an ice cold sodi-pop and just stands there for about three hours just-a-wonderin’ what she’s there fer.  I know it was three hours ‘cause I timed her one day.  Then I come home from hard day of possum huntin' just to find out grandmaw had herself another episode.  Shucks, she’s had more episodes than the frickin’ Andy Griffith show.

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