My phone is on the do not call list but as you probably know you get them anyway now and then. I was really getting flustrated. My red neck was on fire and my southern charm had dropped by the wayside when the phone rang again. GOOD GRIEF, Now I've Had it! I told her, I can't understand you so would you please stop calling me because I'm ready to call the police unless you stop at once.” The nerve of that ol' bag, she said she couldn't understand me either and asked what kind of accent that was. WELL THAT WAS ENOUGH FOR ME!!! Now I'm hollering, or maybe you'd call it screeching. Till now I had called her honey a bunch of times which is just a part of my southern vocabulary. I had not wasted my sugah, or sweet pea on her. Here is what I said the next time the phone rang::---- “Lady I done tole you not to call hyer no more. You caint understand me and I sure caint understand you so what the hecks the point. If I could git my hands round your neck I'd squeeze yur goozle right out your butt, but first I'd cork yur butt with my foot.” My Pastors wife's sweet voice said “Clydene, what in the world is wrong with you”. Oh My Gosh it took some splainin to get outta that one. After I got my BP under control she started giggling, I started giggling and I felt better. I had a dream that night and let me tell you I beat the tar outta that blasted lady who had been pestering me. By golly I did just what I had told her I would do. Course it was my Pastors wife I told. Never pick up the phone and spout your mouth off without being sure who you are talking to. It could be your mother in law maybe.
