Monday, December 6, 2010

Hits Th Nite Afore Chrismus in Poggy USA


 It is the time of the year when relatives seem to come out of the woodwork and this year is no different. It was late this afternoon when a pile of junk that one could barely call a truck came pulling into my driveway. Lord, I thought they might be filming a new series of the Beverly Hillbillys and somehow got lost. 
The door bell rang and I opened the door to find one of my country cousins standing on the poach. I recognized him from the pictures that another cousin had sent some time ago of a reunion she had attended in Poga, Tn. Anyhow it seems that cousin has taken "a hankerin" as he put it to "blog" but doesn't own a computer back in the hills where he is from. He begged and pleaded and said he wanted to do something special for all the kin folks back home and he hoped that it would make him famous in "blogsphere".  I mean what are you going to do?  So folks here is cousins effort and I'll leave the comments up to you.

Reckin aint many uv you folk a been hearin bout Poggy. Well hit ere a place back in th sticks en Eas Tennasee. Hit so fer bac that th Sadurday Barn Danc don com on til Twesdie afernoon bout three aclock. Sum gubermint folk call hit Poga but ain rite spellin accordin to folks frum aron here.
Anywho sense all youin citified folk got yer verzun uv th nite afore Chrismus I dun asided to writ wun myself, Poggy style. I hopin you take a likin to hit. 
Writ by:
Tickers 3rd cuzzin twiste remuved on hisuns uncles side




Hits Th Nite Afore Chrismus in Poggy USA


It twar th nite afore Chrismus an all thru th house
Nary a critter wuz stirin , nope knot even no mose.
The moses dun moved ore to the nex hollar
Cause we to poor to have a mose in th house.

Warnt no sockins hung on th cemney wif care
Cause one par are dirty and I warin th uders.

Didn figre no use seeun as how 
Sant Nic probly ain comin dis yar no how.

Ain no youngens cause they done growd
While th only vizon they got is moving in my home.
Momma wuz in her ragged old gown
an me in my long red draws wif th fas relese bac door
had jus clum in bed fer anuder cold nite er sleep.

A suddun thar war a noize in frunt of th house
I fel plum outta bed, gotta see whut’s th matter.
Th dawgs war a howlin an raizin sum kain,
youd a thunk by dang a coon they done treed.
I run to th winder, stub my dang toe an I bout peed.

Thar warnt muc moon but what thar war
Showed off th junk bured under th snow.
All a sudden  to my blurry eyes whut did appeer
But some kina contrapshun pulled by sum deers.

There war a sawed off runt actin so slick
I thunk hit mus be my dum bruther Dick.
He came a runnin lack a bat oudda heck(can’t said th nuther wurd cauz this here are fer yungens)
But he was a cussin an hollorin, jus lak my bruther Dick.

Them poor dang critters, so mangy an poor
Warnt much more than bones with sum skin throd in.
They bucked an them stroned but fer not muc avile
Cause gittin that mess up to th wall
thar ain no way in well(heck youins no)

Any waysz ,sum how on th rouf he done got
An it warn’t  two long til I heard him squall,
Dang that ere hot!


Twarnt long I rekon afore he got smart
cause twarnt I afore I heard him on th porch.
He wigled an jigled the door right smart
but hit don tak a bunch to open hit up.

I grab my shotgun an hided behin th brok down couch
Meanwhilst a watchin to see what he wuld steal
Wit his big sac he culd cary off th house
But then that wuldnt be no big a deal.

He tuke out sum stuff and comeninced a lookin aroun
Guess he was a figern on sum swapin to be adoin.
I heard him a mudderin sumptin bout sum sockins
Then he plunked down a box then set down an agin a rockin.

He piced up my jug of frech corn squzins
An a big ole swallar he did took
He gaspd fer som aire and his eyes wuz a buggin
Hit tuk him a spell but he took him anutherin

He set fer a spell an then he got up
My thum was on th hammer in case he wuz drunk
He lit fer th door when th dawg agin growlin
An in that contrapshun he dun jumped wif a thunk.

Th dawgs wuz snapin an a growlin and sum wuz a howlin
So he scremed an a hollared an swore at them poor critters
To fly away an jump up fly over th wall.
I knowed rat then that them squizins gots him drunk.
Cauze ain no critter gonna fly over no wall.

He cussed an he swore as he drove oudda site
I gotta git home cause ma ain goona by
that I been out all nite a deliverin
When lak this I git home a smellin.
As he drove thru th barn a scarein th cow

I heard him yell Hit’s Merry Chrismus in Poggy,
now whar’s that dang still. Hehe hehe hehaw

8 comments:

Z said...

GOOD JOB, Ticker! Very well done!

"and that thar wor written by yur bruthuh Darryl and yur OTHUH bruthuh Darryl, right?!"

very cute!

Ticker said...

Hey Z, you bout gud at talkin montin talk whut bein a LA girl!

Ain't got no bruther, jest some cuzzins that er plum nuts.

PJ said...

rite good jobe thar, tick-r

Marry Chrismus to u an thu misses

Ticker said...

an youens to PJ

Brenda Bowers said...

Hey! I'm supposed to be the hillbilly around here. Darn good thing I'm and only child and haven't let my outlaws know where they can find me. :) BB

Ticker said...

BB you warnt barn on a montin top in Tenasee. I ware. hahahha
Lak Davy Croket I wen to Texus but didnt git kilt by no mexecans. Rekon I is jest to dang mulehaided.

Anonymous said...

ROTFL!! Ticker, tha thar jus hain't right~~don't ya'll be a funnin' about us here mtn. folk~~~~gonna get Maw to take you out a 'hind the woodshed for a thrashin' cross your noggin~~~wooohoo!!
Lanner

Anonymous said...

Ah ain't heerd it tol' lack thet in y'ars!!!

Thanks, Ticker! Ya brought back a lot of memories!

Old Rose