A'No-sir, I'm a'not on that thar guestlist
Sheik Yoboudi wrote: Well, I'll a'reckon that I'm much 'bliged to yer on yer invitation fer yer party'n'all, but it'n seems'like I'm not 'boutta be treadin' up yer red carpet any time soon, no sir. Yer way'ntheheck up in De Reealeetay, a far frog's steppin' jump 'way from me here, now, 'n' I'm not the most likely a folks you'll be seein' on an aeroplane anytime soon, now. See, I was flyin on back from er big modern new-fangled toaster convention out East, 'n' I was mindin' my mindsome, stretchin out er bit, maxin, relaxin, groovin wid de movin, sinkin tall inte ma pillow'n whatnot, 'n' next thing I know, I'm bein wrassled te the ground, hearin' all sortsa folk screamin and a'yellin 'n a'passin' out if'n I'm not mistaken. All a'screamin' "Sir, dem damn feets are a tair-orr-ist weapon!" 'n'whatnot, people all a shoutin, "Putcher damn shoes on, sir, the pilot's eyes are gittin hazy and we're losin quick altitoode" 'n whatnot. Hog-tied me with the plastic wrap from them li'l chicken cor-don-blew thangs, wrapped my feets up in a big ole' black metal box, put ma wrists through a slew a 'dem plastic thingies from a six-pack a Coke, 'n'upon landin, intr'duced me to some "slightly-less-th'n-kind" gentlemen all wearin the same grey suits. If'n when they let me go, 'n'drove me on back to ma homestead, damned if they di'n't done give me the purtiest li'l wicker basket wid a bow on top, fill'd wi all sorts of sham-poos 'n' lathery stuff, 'n' smelly colorful rectangler thangs that makes you burp bubbles for a week when you eat it. So 'xcuse me if'n I can't 'tendjer party, now. Y'all have a good ole' time, 'n' when yer at the snack table, be sure'n avoid them colored squares th't taste like jasmine. Give ye the bubbly shits fer a month, I tellz ya. Bele'e you me.