So I tole Momma what I wants to get a tattoo acause everbody gots tattoos and I very very likes them. She sayed, N-O, NO. You ain't a colouring book, George, you is a Boxer Dog. Then I sayed, that's mental,(underneath my lips,) but it musta flappered out acause she heared me. Who does you thinks you is, Mister.? And who does you thinks you is talking to? I thunk I beed George, but I ain't sayin' nothin' acause her eyeballs be all popping out at me. She prawly bees mental as a banjo if she don't even know she's her own self what I's talkin' to.