Momma beed mad on me today and she sayed; heavens to Betsy, George, I telled you for to stop suckin' yous paw; and now look on you. Yous teeth is BUCKED! Which, I thunk that beed a very bad word for Momma to be sayin' 'bout my teeths. Then she tole me I gots a go at the dentist shop; but I is not gonna go. Absotootly not. I smiled on Momma an showed her; see Momma, I sayed, my teeths bees fine. Just my lips bees a little bit too short is all. Prawly theys gonna grow.

Today I beed a Horny Toad and my house beed the Horny Toad Hotel when Momma goed to work and I sitted on the couch in the sun a waitin' on flies what I could zip up with my long toad tongue. Ever time the phone ringed I sayed, Horny Toad Hotel, Horny George bees talkin'. Which, I isn't apposed a answer the phone on myself, but I forgetted 'bout that on accident. Momma finded out 'bout I beed answerin' the phone acause her friend axed her, how come you has a fella called Horny George at yous house? When Momma gotted home from work, she weren't mad on me; just streamly distapointed. That beed much quieter than mad, acause she just putted on her hang-dog face and hummed funeral songs. I tole Momma what I's so sorry and I doesn't never wanna distapoint her never again. I'm much rather she just bees mad and yells on me and then bees over it.

Clive gotted new boots whats called puddle-hoppers and they gots Spiderman on 'em and you bounces when you jumps acause they bees maked outta rubber. Clive tole me what he bees huntin' swamp monsters in 'em. Which, I needs a hunt swamp monsters, too. So I axed Momma, please, please, Momma, I NEEDS for to has a set a puddle-hoppers like Clive gots. Momma sayed, I gots nice rubber boots in the closet what haves never beed weared; you can use them, Georgie. Well firsty, they bees polka-dot boots. And twosy, theys a least a bucket too big on my feets. Them swamp monsters gonna laugh on me if I goes out lookin' like a dance-hall girl, Momma, I tole her. She sayed, don't be rude on somebody what bees nice at you, young man. I thinks thems prawly too big a boots for to eat; so I's gonna hafta bury 'em atill Momma bees done with her foolishy thinkin'.

Grammy bees in big troubles today acause she bited the mailman on hims bag. And hims mail felled out, too. She sayed it ain't her fault acause she thunk he beed the mean bus driver what throwed her offa hims bus acause he sayed what she stinked like a booze hound. Which, she don't even looks nothin' like no hound dog. So now the mailman tole us he ain't deliberin' no mail at our house no more; and Grammy sayed when Momma finds out, she gonnas throw a torpedo fit like we ain't seen in two counties since Nellie Douglas catched her stud sneakin' off with her floozy cousin Dutchess. Then she sayed what she needs a cold Screwdriver for to steady her nerves, but I thinks prawly she better not play with tools if she bees so shaky.

Today at Sunday School, Mrs. Pearson teached us alls 'bout the Good 'n Smartin man what goed around bein' nice and helpin' peoples out. And she sayed what The Lord bees lookin' for boys 'n girls for to be on hims team. Which, I is good 'n smart, and I's nice to peoples; so prawly I's gonna get on the team. I maked a cheer what I been practicin' acause I been hopin' what maybe they's gonna say, hey, Georgie, you oughta be the captain a the team. Then I's gonna cheer; I's on the team a the    L-R-D! But then I thunk, prawly Jesus already bees the captain acause it bees hims father's team anyhows.

Today Momma goed grocery shoppin' and I beed very boring, so I gotted the great idea for to be Nosy Parker, the friendly potato farmer what looks out for all hims neighbours. And then I done that. When Momma comed home, I tole her everthin' 'bout ever little thin' what I seed everbody doin'. She sayed, nobody likes a tattletale, Nosy Parker! Which, how in the holy clod-hoppers do Momma knows what I beed Nosy Parker? Prawly she bees wrong, anyhows. I thinks everbody likes a have a friendly potato farmer neighbour. Momma don't all a time knows everthin'.

At Obee Dance School today, Mrs. Barker maked me dance a waltz with Clive acause Milly Krank beed sick, and they didn't been enough girls for to fill up all the boys. When we was done, Clive sayed, wait till I tells the guys what you hadda be a girl today, George. So I kissed him full on hims lips and tole him, yeah, well, you just kissed a boy, Clive. Prawly you doesn't wanna say nothin' 'bout nothin' at nobody, Buster Brown. And then I goed in the boys bathroom and gargled my face off in the toilet atill I maked sure what all them Clive germs gotted offa me.

When I been at my cousin Clive's today, Aunt Spot sayed, Georgie, we's havin' my homemaked Pork Hock soup for dinner, does you wanna stay? My face goed all deesgusted on accident; but I sure doesn't wanna eat no Poor Cock soup. I likes roosters with theys cute red fingers stickin' offa theys little heads. Then Aunt Spot sayed, Georgie! Pork hocks bees pigs feets, that's what my soup bees maked outta. Which, eatin' pigs feets bees even worser and worser than eatin' poor cocks. I hadda sneak and call Momma for to come and git me quick.

Grampy comed outta the bathroom with a mad on me today. He sayed, George, I just cracked my chin tryin' a get a drink acause there bees water all over a place in there. What the crispy cripes did you been doin? I tole him, sorry, Dude. I beed surfin'. So Grampy sayed there bees no allowed surfin' in the bathroom no more; which, I doesn't know how I's apposed a practice now. And then he sayed, and don't you call me Dude, neither. It bees unrespectful. But I sayed, no it ain't, Dude. It bees narly. He sayed, snarly? This bees snarly. And then he done snarled and tried a bite me on my butts; 'cept he missed acause he bees so half-blind. But I sayed, Yelp! Yelp!, anyhows; so Grampy don't gottas get all bareassed about he can't even bite my butts. That bees pretty not unrespectful.

Mrs. Pearson beed sick for Sunday School today, so we hadded a prostitute teacher what been called Mr. Bailey and he sayed he wannas teach us the Ten Commandos. But we tole him, oh, no, Mr. Bailey. Mrs. Pearson all a time bees wantin' us for to colour angels and eat apple slices. Then Scabby Doyle stucked hims gum on my ear, and me and him and Clive gotted into a little fight on the floor. Mr. Bailey maked a scream what sounded like a girl and he sayed, I wants yous boys names. So Scabby sayed Scabby, and Clive sayed Clive, and I tole him I bees Mitchell Marshall. Which, I thunk that beed pretty smart acause when Mr. Bailey tattletales on us; Mrs. Pearson ain't gonna get mad on me. That just comed right outta my head, too! Mrs. Pearson prawlys gonna think who the heaven's stakes bees Mitchell Marshall; must of be him is a new boy. A new boy what bees bad. Then she gonna thinks, I's mad on him, that Mitchell Marshall.

Today when I beed a horse 'n buggy runnin' round and round, somebody sayed inside a my ear, careful what you doesn't crash, George. And guess what? I crashed. Then I heared, I tole you so, Georgie. I sayed, does that be You, God? But it weren't God who beed talkin' in my ears. It beed my new friend Reggie. Reggie knows all kinda everthin', and we played all the afternoon. Momma tries a say what Reggie bees all maginary, but he ain't. I never even ever heared of a name of Reggie afore, so how  come does I calls Reggie Reggie if I never knowed 'bout Reggie? He bees real. Reggie sayed what maybe I maked a maginary Momma inside a my head; but, prawly not. She bees too loud for to be betendin'.

Tonight Momma axed Grammy, where is you goin lookin' like that; acause she beed all gussied up with her leather skirt and shiny boots on. Grammy sayed, I's goin' to Karaoke for to sing sweet songs at the fellas. Then Momma sayed you is too ole for to carry on like that, Grammy. But Grammy laughed on Momma and tole her, don't you worry Momma, many a fine tune has beed played on a ole fiddle! Which, I'm rather play my guitar astead of a ole fiddle. When I bees ole enough, I's prawly gonna go to guitar Karaoke.

I done hypmotizin' on Momma last night for to make her do what I wants, like I seed a man done on TV today. When she beed sleepin', I speaked spooky in her ear and I tole her; you bees verrry sleepy... yous eyes bees sooo heavy... you gots sleepy, heavy eyes, Momma...  Now, look at my eye... and concecrate at my talkin'... you gots to do what so all what I says, Momma. Milk bones bees verrry healthy... milk boones... milllk boones... we loves milk bones. And get George a motorcycle jacket. This mornin' she eated a bowl a milk bones with milk on it for breakfast; and she sayed she gonnas get a new coat after work. Prawly pretty soon, she gonna be doin' everthing I says.

Ever night after dinner Momma says, come here, Georgie, let's take some fun pictures. And then she makes me looks reedickilous, and she giggles on me; but a least I gets liver snaps when she bees done. 'Cept tonight she tried to tricker me with plain ole kibbles acause we runned outta liver snaps. Which, I isn't takin' no foolish pictures for no kibbles; and I tole Momma that. Now we bees in a crackerjack of a fight, and Momma leaved here in a big dusty puff. Prawly I hopes she better be gettin' me liver snaps. You shoulda seed what she beed spectin' me to wear tonight.

I maked myself mine own tail today acause I been all a time wishin' I hadded a fine tail like a Collie or a Hound Dog. I bees so bareassed for to wag my tail acause it bees so stubby what my whole butt rattles. 'Cept, not no more! So I goed out with my brand new tail on and I seed a pack a mongrel mutts what gots nothin' better to do than hang theys faces on the corner. (That bees what Grammy says.) One of 'em hollered out, hey fellas, look at that Boxer Dog; he bees wearin a ASS WIG! Then they all laughed on me. So a course, I runned right straight home. I just telled mine self; that bees OK, Georgie, you bees a Floral Bread Boxer Dog. Maybe thems tails bees nice, but they still bees face-hangin' corner mutts.

I beed a lucky duck all to heck today, acause I goed to the donut shop for to hunt for treaties; and one second after I tooked my head outta the garbage can, it beed crashed on by a big truck. Garbage flewed all over the place, and that coulda beed my head what been flyin'. Momma woulda heared about that for sures. Which, that woulda beed big big troubles on me, acause I isn't apposed a go nowheres without bringin' Momma on her leash. So, I finded a cookie and two creams, my head bees fine, and Momma don't know nothin' 'bout nothin'. Lucky ducker ducky is what I bees today.