At Sunday School today, Mrs. Pearson beed teachin' us childrens alls 'bout  sharin', an' share an' share alike, an' don't not be so greedy acause that bees the seven deadish sin. That beminded me 'bout a story what Grampy tole me 'bout hims cousint Stanley Stanley. Grampy sayed what Stanley Stanley haved a wife called Sharon; 'cept for everbody called her Sharin' Sharon on account a she beed a floozy. Which, I ain't sure what that means, but Grampy sayed, that woman beed looser 'an a turkey's neck, Georgie. My poor cousint beed so bareassed when everbody sayed, oh look, here comes Stanley Stanley an' Sharin' Sharon ever time they goed anywheres. Stanley Stanley finally hadda deevorce Sharin' Sharon acause she keeped on bringin' home crabs, Grampy tole me. Maybe he were vallergic to seafood, I ain't sure. But I tole Mrs. Pearson what that story bees a very good zample 'bout sharin', specially the crab part acause all the Postles beed fishin' men too! Mrs. Pearson jus' sayed, thank you George. I thinks she prawly beed surprised what I knows so much 'bout all the Postles an' stuff.

Mrs. Pearson felled down at Sunday School today acause she beed wearin' fancy clicky shoes an' she don't knows how to walk in 'em so good. Which, that prawly could a beed a terrible thing; 'cept for she looked like a circus lady when she goed down. An' plus, me an' Clive an' Scabby all seen  her undies. Clive sayed, hey fellas, look like Mrs. Pearson have stoled our club-house tent! Scabby sayed, unh, unh, Clive, she gots a double-wide under that dress for sures. Well, we was laughin' on our own selves acause we bees so funny, an' I tole the boys, we sure as shootin' could have a big party in Mrs. Pearson's pants! Which, that kinda beed jus' plain gross astead a funny, an' we all goed quiet acauase a the ugly picture we gotted sticked in our brains. An' plus, Mrs. Pearson heared me, so she beed yellin' on me all a ways inside; madder 'an a donkey full a ticks. She bees limpin' now. I is still prayin' at all a holy saints or angels or some-the-nother-body for to derase the Mrs. Pearson Pants Party outta my head.

So tonight at supper, I pronounced for everbody to knows what I bees in love with the beautifullest little Pug I has ever seed what's called Betty Davis. Grampy gotted all spit-talky an' he sayed, what? A pig? Not no grandson a mine gonna bees fallin' for no pig, Georgie; it jus' ain't not right. Then Betsy tole Grampy, not a pig, Grampy, Georgie bees in love with a BUG. Acause she gots eyes what bugs out like she bees blowin' up balloons all a time, forout ever stoppin'. Theys ploblably gonna has a bunch a baby bugs if they gets married, right Georgie? Well, Momma stomped her fork down an' sayed, there bees no talkin' 'bout sex at the dinner table, that ain't the propriate! Some mashed potatoes flewed outta Momma's mouth when she sayed, s-e-x; so we all a us started laughin' on her, an' I thunk she were gonna bust out a cry atill Grammy sayed, speakin' a sex; I gottsa go git ready for my karaoke! Then Momma an' Grampy both beed deesgusted on Grammy; an' ahind everbody's back Betsy keeped on callin' me Georgie the Bugger Boxer Boy.  So, I has besided what I's prawly gonna hafta fall in love with some nother girl some nother time. An' then I ain't tellin' nobody nothin' 'bout it neither.

Today when Momma were gittin' Betsy ready for Sunday School, she keeped on sayin', oh, who bees the prettiest girl aroun'? Who beeees the prettiest girl?? Over 'n over 'n over 'n over atill I started tastin' my breakfast again. Finally I hadda sayed, does ya thinks what yous Mirror Mirror on the Wall, Momma? Then Betsy tole me, Momma says I looks jus' like Snow White, Georgie. That must of means what you ploblably is the Seventeen Warts what I lives with! An' she beed talkin' all princessy, puffin up her hairs an' her stupid dress. Well, firsty, Professor Hindstone, I tole her, it bees Sevendy Wharfs where Snow White was livin'. An' plus, I ain't not never bein' nobody's wharf. But Momma an' Betsy was both a them laughin' on me, tryin' a beside do they wannas call me Grumpy, or Sneezy... Then Momma sayed, oh, crispy cringles, look at the time! Yous childrens gottsa git goin. Now you be a good boy an' walk yous sister to school, Dopey! I can't not hardly wait atill I's twenty-six or thirty an' I can move the heck outta here.