woman # 1: Are you going to see that Talladega Nights movie?
woman #2: No I am not! It's just a MOCKERY of NASCAR.
[this reported to me by the poet. I was there but in a state of near-catatonia caused by the wailing, piercing alarm going off in the camera department. I was informed that said alarm would probably continue for some time, as camera staff had recently departed for the night]
At the Shell Station food store:
"Did you see my new car? I'm riding in STYLE, it's a brand new Ford Expedition. I got in a wreck, did you read about it in the paper? I was in the paper.... I was in a wreck up in Stringer, and the paper made it sound like it was my fault, when THEY hit ME.... Didn't you see it in the paper?"
Unfortunately I cannot duplicate the sheer red-necked-ness of the hardcore white trash Piney Woods Mississippi accent in print. The poet thinks I should just carry around a voice-activated recorder at all times because in truth, I do witness gems of this sort on a regular basis.
And, last but not least, seen but not heard: A big dude and his mini-me friend, decked out in sunburns, hunting camo, and faux Oakley shades, shooting at deer on the deer-hunting game, the one with life-sized plastic rifles for shooting. Man, they were having some fun on a Friday night at the Walmart.
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