SOMETHIN' WRONG

Somethin' beed wrong with Momma today. Alls on a sudden she gotted to huggin' on me real hard. Like as if she gonnas fell outta the tree or somethin'. Then she sayed, thanks you, Georgie. An' I sayed, huh? Oh, jus' thanks you for bein' you, is all. Which, I thunk, a course I is me. Then I thunk, do I bees wearin' a disguise? All a whole time Momma beed starin' on me like she wannas eat me for dinner. Then I thunk, if she only jus' knows what I bees me right now.... Who the Christmas Cripes do she thunk she beed sleepin' with last night? I is sleepin' on the floor tonight. Prawly at the front door. Prawly I's gonna stay there atill she gots that creepy look outta she's face.

TIT FOR TAT

Me an' Momma hadded a tit-for-tat fight today acause I is sick to deaf 'bout my feets gots salt stains on 'em all a time an' Momma won't not buy me no boots acause I eated my nother ones. Which, them boots beed too small anyhows. So I tole Momma, fine, well I ain't takin' you for no more walks, then. An' she sayed, good. How's 'bout you jus' git to bed, smarty-pants. An' I sayed, good. Prawly I's gonna poop on yous pillow. Then Momma's face sploded an' she hollered, GITABEDNOW! So I up an' gotted gone alright. I figures what Momma really bees so mad acause she's tits ain't near as good as my tats. I winned.

Yesterday a big bully whats called Morty Rottenweiller tole me, you ain't no boxer dog George,  you must of bees a mon-go-loid. 'An then everbody beed laughin' on me. I sayed I is too a boxer dog. But Morty sayed what real boxers all a time gots cauliflower ears 'an my ears looks like socks so I ain't not no kinda boxer. So I sure showed that bad breath bully somethin' today. I maked mine own cauliflower ears 'an I marched right up on him 'an I axed him, does ya still wanna says what I's a marigold, tough guy? Morty only jus' sayed, you is a idiot, George. If only I didn't not been so ascared a him I woulda gonna show him what kinda marigold idiot he bees talkin' to.

 I hadda tole Momma a lie today an' this bees how come: I has beed learnin' for to blow bubbles outta bubblegum. I were doin' pretty very good. Atill I beed blowin' bubbles in bed an' then I felled asleep on accident an' when I waked up my head beed stucked on the pillow. Momma keeped axin me, George, how come you is carryin' my pillow alls 'round?

 I keeped sayin', I is tired today, Momma. Else she gonna kill me. Finally I gotted braved up an'I jus' stepped on that pillow an' teared my head right offa it. 'Cept most a my ear stayed stucked on the pillow. Looks like a mouse bees takin' a nap.  But I is jus' gonna tell Momma, betcha never seed a boxer boy what can blow bubbles afore, right? Then she prawlys gonna kill me to deaf any ole hows.

I meeted Scabby Doyle when we was walkin' to Sunday School today an' I axed him, how come you is all shinied up an' smellin' so nice, Scabby?  He sayed he sneaked hims big brother's Barkey Boy Beef Stew odorant an' gelled hims hairs acause he bees gonna meet hims Love Dove after church. Scabby has beed betendin for to be a handsome man at the Plenty O Pups. But what if yous love dove bees a ugly sack a stink, Scabby? He sayed, she gonna has red flowers in her hairs, Georgie. My Gladys bees beautiful an' I loves her. I sayed, did you said Glad Ass? But then we goed inside. An' guess what? Mrs. Pearson beed all shinied up. She hadded RED FLOWERS sticked in her hair. Scabby throwed up in hims mouth. I laughed so bad what I peed. Prawly Scabby gonna wanna be nice to me for a good long time.  

At Obee Dance School Mrs. Barker has beed teachin' us for to come here when she whistles. I done very good, too; 'cept for now I gots a big problem. There bees

a birdie livin' on my head. Ever time what the birdie beed whistlin'; I been runnin' alls over this way then the nother tryin' for to come here. I never even knowed 'bout the birdie atill Clive sayed, hey Georgie ya gots a  birdie on yous head. Which, that bees okay. But I is gettin' in trouble at school acause I don't come here no more acause I never knows who bees doin' the whistlin'. An' all a kids is comin' here on me all a time when my head bees whistlin'. Mrs. Barker sayed she ain't happy on me now. Prawly Momma gonna be mad,  too. I ain't apposed a has a pet. Weren't my fault.

Today at Sunday School Mrs. Pearson beed teachin' us 'bout there used of beed sick peoples what was called leopards a long time ago when Jesus were just a fella. An' everbody beed mean on them leopards an' tole 'em, yous git outta here, acause they was so catchy. 'Cept for Jesus weren't mean. He goed 'round fulla miracles an' tole 'em go on home sonny, you is all better now. We besided for to play Jesus 'n the Leopards at recess, an' Clive sayed, Georgie, you looks like a good Jesus. Scabby Doyle hadda beed the leopard. So I were walkin' all floaty holy crossed the yard for to save Scabby an' next I knowed, them boys beed poundin' me with snowballs. An' they was laughin. At Jesus. I were screamin', yous is gonna GO TO HELL! That bees right when Mrs. Pearson tugged on my ear an' sayed what she bees gonna tole Momma what I were cussin' on Clive. Which, that maked me laugh. A course Momma already knows what me 'n Clive bees cousins!