February 2013
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I be suddle

“We gots us twelve seats. All in a row. Count ‘em, Billy. That don’t look like twelve.”

“Don’t speak at me bout dere not be room. That’s cause them fokes there be in our seats.”

“Lord, how I end up with a man ‘fraid to claim the seats he done paid for? I ain’t asking you to kick der asses. I see they be children. I got eyes, don’t I? Just ask what seats they done bought tickets for, cause it ain’t being dees seats here. I done bought dees seats here.”

“Becky, Mantha, Joseph . . . you push in ‘head and tell those fokes out of our seats. I done bought twelve seats. Billy, get out da way iffin you ain’t got da balls to sit your ass down in da seats I done paid for. Climb you skinny ass up and out ‘da way.”

“Look at dat. Them fokes was in da wrong section. Guess Momma knows a thing sometimes. Sit yo asses down. Twelve in a row, just like I said.”

“Rolly, don’t touch that girl with your nappy wild head. Look at her, she all innocent. I said keep yo hair offen that child. And get yo stink-ass feet up and out from under da row. Ain’t no one in here want to smell yo feet. Try and ack like a person anudder person might be takin out and showing off. Put yo goddamned shoes back on.”

“Oh my lord, dis seat be small. Billy, you know I a big woman, but dis seat be tight. Good thing dis here woman be short, cuz ain’t no way I be standin to see overin her height. Honey, I do my best but my knees fixin to hit you in the back of yo head.”

“Rolly, leave dat girl’s hair alone. Oooh, look at her mad! She a tiny thing but she ’bout to kick your ass, Rolly.”

“Somebody wave me up dat man wid duh popcorn.”

“Becky, you know I don’ want to hear ‘bout James at dis p’ticular time. I said dis is not da time. I don’ care what da charges be. I really don’t. We watchin a show, and I guess a man wid charges can wait his ass until we done to discuss his p’ticular chances.”

“I be well and truly wedged in dis seat. Hand me dat popcorn. I said pass it down. I din’t see yo money payin for no popcorn.”

“Oh my lord, Jessie gettin all worked up ’bout cheese. Take a breath, baby! Don’t nobody want to hear bout yo cheese. Jessie, stop yo fuckin swearing. I yo momma and I ain’t askin. I will whup your ass, yelling out bout who got your fuckin cheese.”

“Jessie ain’t right in the head, not no way. People just gots to know dat.”

“Rolly, I gots to break yo fuckin fingers? Get out da popcorn.”

“Mantha, lean in. Lean in. I meant to tell you I done smelled dis woman on da way inta dis place and she smelt like a dream and you gotsa figger out what dat smell is it be like vanilla and beaches or sumpin, and you splash a bit on you, and guessin Jake be all over’n you. You knows what I’m talkin bout. All over’n you.”

“Momma knows her shit. Ain’t dat right, Billy?”

“This man ain’t got the sense god gave him. That was me comin up on you, Billy, ain’t you got no sense at all? It’s a wonder any rest a ya’ll was born.”

“Jessie, take a breath, baby. Ain’t nobody got yo cheese.”

“Dat boy ain’t right.”

“When dis show fixin to start? Sumbuddy turn the lights do’n and bring me a spotlight say hollyloooyeah.”

“No. I ain’t gunta be buying no fifteen dolla cotton candy I do’n care if it do come wid a hat to wear on yo fool head. Joseph, you gots to learn ‘bout money, baby. You be needin money for gas in yo car, you gonna be talking to da tendant ’bout sticky sweet and a toy hat on yo head? Dat make sense to you?”

“Boy’s seventeen years old, wanna be wearing a candy hat on his head. Dat boy ain’t right.”

“Jessie, ‘dis the last time I fixin to tell you shuddup bout da cheese.”

“Dat boy ain’t no way right neither.”

“Ooooh . . . they gots a giant ‘merican flag look it be wavin. You know I’m ‘merican. You know that shit, don’t you Billy?”

“Dis part always make me cry. Das what make dis country great, it got a song to make you cry.”

“Stand yo ass up. All a ya’lls. Stand up, dis yo country. Dis yo flag. Dis yo ‘merica. You gots to stand. Be proud.”

“Stand you ass up, dey bout to start singin.”

“I doan believe I can stand.”

“Billy, help me up. I wedged.”

“Alright, ain’t no big thing. ‘Merica know I gots mad respect. I just sit.”

“I’ll hold da popcorn. Everbuddy’s got a job to do, aint that right?”

“I dun tole you dat song makes me cry.”

“Every time.”

“Ooooh . . . somebody tell me you see if Pablo be drivin’ Gravedigger. Dat man be fine. Momma wants a piece of dat, no lie.”

“Baby, I be kiddin. You know Momma’s kiddin, Billy. You man enuff shore enuff.”

“Mantha, lean in. I said lean in. I gots to get me sumadat nilla-beach shit.”

“I gots to get me sumadat. No lie.”

“Awww, hell yeah! You know I’m ’bout ready for a show! Hell yeah!”

“Damn, girl. Becky, you want sumbuddy throw you a free t-shirt, you got to flash some titty. How you so stupid thinkin dey care bowcha wantin? Titties. Dem boys throwing da tshirts care deeply bout some titty. Ain’t dat right, Billy?”

“You know dat’s right.”

“Sombuddy tell dees fools I aint messing ‘round. Sit yo asses down in duh seats I dun paid for.”

“Twelve in a row, like I said.”

“Date night, Billy. You ready?”

“Whatchu mean ready for what?”

“Mmmm hmmm.”

“You gots to pay ‘tention, Billy. I be suddle.”


I had never been to a Monster Truck Rally before.


    35 comments to I be suddle

    • Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

      Although apparently James has charges pending.


    • steph

      *veryloudandunladylikecoffeesnork* I’m assuming the trucks were the least of the entertainment?

      • Sadly, once the trucks started racing around, I was quickly deafened by the noise, making all regular conversation (and eavesdropping) pretty much impossible.

        Monster trucks are fucking LOUD.

        Were you aware?

    • a snowsprite

      I think I know that woman. Bahahahahahahaha!
      But I definitely have known people like her.

    • Martha

      Say what you will, she’s right. Momma knows her shit.
      Also, true dat about Oregon. We have that in spades in Gresham.

      • Snort!

        Oregon is such an odd mixture.

        On the one hand, there are people carefully breaking out their recyclables from their trash, putting out their compost-bins, wearing only environmentally conscious animal-friendly fibers, eating organic pricey food, ranting about love and legal marijuana and farmer’s market treasures.

        And on the other hand are people with dead deer strapped to their trucks, sofas on the porch, bonfires of trash burning in the back yard, ranting about how Obama is an alien birthed from Pluto-Russian spy-astronauts.

        A seriously odd mix.

        It’s rather awesome, as long as you remember not to get stuck at either end of the continuum for too long.

        You have to mix it up a bit.

    • Oh, you didn’t know that monster truck rallies are redneck havens?


    • Tammy Proctor

      OMG. I should go to a monster truck rally and leave when the “show” starts. I would enjoy silently snickering in my seat while listening to the regulars. I; however, cannot deal with the noise so I don’t go anywhere close to monster anything.

      • This group behind us? THEY WERE INSANE. Like the rest of the already quirky audience, but amped up to like the thousandth power.

        As for the noise? It was horrific.



    • Oh my. I have customers in the restaurant like that. Ack

    • Lisa

      I love me some Monster trucks. Best people watching EVER. And what IS that scent you are wearing :-). Oh, and all the dads here at the Cub Scout meeting are wondering why I am convulsing in my chair trying to hold in the laughter.

    • handflapper

      OH! A monster truck rally! I was SO CONFUSED, wondering when did Kris ever come to one of our family reunions?

    • Mishelle

      Oh, I see you’ve been to my neck of the woods here in the armpit of Nova Scotia,you’ve met some of the natives here….

      No joke, went to a hockey game last year with daughter and had to have a good long talk with her afterwards about stuff being said behind us. That being said – I had to admire her attempts to smuggle her laughter, she was so much better than me!


      • Yes, Kallan was sitting next to me with wide eyes and wider ears, leaning in to whisper in my ear whenever the family behind us got obnoxious — So pretty much from the time we sat down until the trucks started roaring, at which point no one could hear anything anymore.

        Kallan and I giggled a lot.

        She helped me take notes.

        Hee hee.

    • "OG" Axel

      ‘Merica! Hell-to-the-yeah! Ain’t nutin moare ‘Merican than backyard wrastling an trucks.

      Jeff Foxworthy: If you go to a family reunion looking for a date… you might be a redneck.

    • "OG" Axel

      You might be a redneck if… (all truck related)
      *you replace a tire on your truck with one off your house
      *your pickup costs more than your education
      *the bluebook value on your truck depends on how much gas is in the tank
      *you can change the oil in your truck without ducking your head
      *your other family car is a John Deere
      *your house doesn’t have curtains but your truck does

      • JenN

        If your family tree does not fork…
        If you have ever had you nipple bitten off by a beaver…

        Bless that man, he is hilarious!

        • You and Axel have questionable senses of humor.

          I may have to snub you both in superior fashion.

          “Nipples bitten by beavers” ???


    • JenN

      Haha, oh my! I am in Oklahoma currently and that whole conversation just sounded like a trip to Walmart or for that matter a trip to any place here. ;)
      You have to put a warning when you put up a post that would potentially cause coffee spitting gigglesnorts. My boss looked at me weird.

      • JenN

        Also her MAJesty at a Monster Truck Rally was probably the funniest image ever!

        • Sigh. Poor Maj . . . she was overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd and the pointlessness of it all.

          “Mother, it turns out I am not actually a fan of trucks smashing cars, although I am not at all sure how you could have possibly thought otherwise.”

          Maj survived by staring straight ahead, earplugs shoved deep, ignoring her surroundings.

          Poor Maj.