Tonight I beed Helpy Helperton for Momma, acause I seed our favouritest popcorn on top a the fridge so I thunk; I's gonna bring Momma a little treat. Which, I done that; 'cept for them bags is very breakish an' mostly all a the popcorn goed in my mouth afore we got back to Momma floppin' all over the couch. I figured what she were gonna had a hurricane fit when she grabbed the empty bag outta my mouth; but she only jus' sayed, oh well, Georgie. That bees okay. My butts prawly bees too fat any ole how. So I tole her, yes it do, Momma; acause Grampy have teached me what ya never argues with no woman. Now Momma won't not stop her cryin'. An' I gots a be Helpy again an' go git her a Kleenex.

Today I beed watchin' teachy TV an' I seed a show alls 'bout people what never throws nothin' away. They calls 'em whores. An' then my brain goed, Ping-Pong! Acause; guess who bees a whore? Momma. Which, that ain't even funny acause whores is sick. So I tole Momma, you must of bees a sick whore, Momma. An' she goed bee-zerk! She were screamin' 'bout slappin' my dirty mouth, an' chasin' me round an' round, atill finally; I opened up the closet an' showed her all a wigs an' hats an' glasses what she don't never throws away. I tole her, look on all this junk, Momma. Prawly you gottsa be a whore for to keep a messy box like that. Then Momma dropped her wooden spoon an' sayed, oh... I's a hoarder, Georgie, not a whore. So I gived her a great big hug an' tole her, you call it what ya wants, Momma. A least ya knows ya gots a problem.

Today I peed on a fan. Which, that maked a pee pee sprinkler alls over the kitchen where Momma beed bakin' sweeties. She hollered, what in the bloody buckets a hell did you done, George! So I were tryin' for to splain what I beed betendin' what the pee pee sprinkler beed a waterfalls an' I were gonna rescue a big fat whale outta the pee pee waterfalls an' I tole her, you coulda beed the whale, Momma, an' I were gonna been George The Hero Boxer Dog... But then Momma jus' sayed, oh, shut-up you idiot. Mine own Momma. Sayed that to her little boy. I's prawly gonna get growed up all crazy like a rabbit-dog now.

There bees a boy at Sunday School what's named Bruce Wong, an' he bees a Samoyed; 'cept for he gots orange hairs on accident. Today he bited Scabby Doyle acause Scabby were teasin' him an' callin' him Ginger. So Scabby goed cryin' at Mrs. Pearson; an' then Bruce goed cryin' at Mrs. Pearson; an' Mrs. Pearson gotted mad on all two of 'em. She sayed, now boys, two wrongs don't not makes a right. Which, I tole Mrs. Pearson what I agrees. An' I sayed this all prawly bees Bruce's Mommy an' Daddy's fault any ole how. They's growed-ups, I sayed, they should a knowed what two wongs don't not makes a white. I jus' don't not unnerstans how come I beed the only one what hadda go sit in the hall again.

Tonight at supper I telled Grammy what I ain't eatin' no hot dogs, only jus' tater-tots acause there bees a gang a bad mens goin' round the deep woods shootin' up doggies for to make hot dogs out of 'em. That might of beed yous cousint what yous cookin' there, Grammy, I sayed. She axed me where the tarnation has I heared such a stupidass thing like that; an' I tole her, Grampy tole me. Then she sayed, ppfft. Well, Bambi beed shooted in the woods, ya know, I tole her. Grammy's mouth spitted up like a sink full a dishes an' she sayed, Bambi ain't no doggie, George! She bees a gal-danged stripper is all! An' you can tell yous Grampy what I'm bees happy for to boil up that skinny-legged dancin' she-devil like a hot dog any ole day. Which, I ain't the only woman gonna wanna done that, neither. So, I'm prawly don't wanna never eat the nother hot dog on my attire life. A least I still loves my tater-tots.
To the moon on back.

Momma tole me, Georgie, gather up some a yous ole toys for to bonate to the Church's Brassiere. Which; I plays with ever single toy all a time all a time. So I axed Momma, how's 'bout givin' the Church's Brassiere this ugly ole sweater astead? It bees Bazaar, she sayed.  An' I sayed, well it for definite bees ugly; I ain't so sure 'bout Bizarre. No, George, Momma sayed, the Church's Bazaar! Well I couldn't not believe in my ears. An' I tole Momma, too. I sayed why ya gonna go 'round givin' away ugly ole stuff for to be nice an' then be callin' names on the same time? I has never heared the Church callin' you no names.

I hadda tole Momma what I ain't doin' no chores today acause Mrs. Pearson sayed what Sunday bees apposed a be a day a rest. Even God bees restin', I tole her. She up an' sended me to bed. An' she were sayin', ooo, ooo, you must of bees sooo tired, all like a smart pants. Which, that were rude at God's own idea. I thinks what she better be careful 'bout a ball a thunder 'n lightenin' gonna pop up an' stripe her dead. 'Cept for God bees restin' today. She prawly oughta bring a umbrella to work with her tomorrow.