Oh, George… not the livestock!
I slaughtered this horse last Tuesday. I think it’s startin’ to turn.
Good grief, y’all. I just re-watched this last night!
I’ve spoken my piece, and counted to three.
So I borrowed it until I did know!
Believe me Delmar, woman is the most fiendish instrument of torture ever devised to bedevil the days of man.
Hot damn, son! I believe you did sell your soul to the devil!
They sang into yonder can, then skedaddled.
Well, that record is just goin’ through the goddam roof. They playin’ it far away as Mobile.
No.
Whole damn state’s goin’ apey.
Well, it was a powerful air.
Cows! I hate cows worse than coppers!
I never figured you for a pater familias.
Moved MPSIMS --> Cafe Society.
Say, any of you boys smithies? Or, if not smithies per se, were you otherwise trained in the metallurgic arts before straitened circumstances forced you into a life of aimless wanderin’?
You can’t display a toad in a fine restaurant like this! Why, the good folks here would go right off the feed!
I have. NO name.
I work. For NO man.
Well, that right there may be the reason you’ve had difficulty findin’ gainful employment. You see, in the mart of competitive commerce…
Well, on Big Rock Candy Mountain, the cops have wooden legs.
All right. I’m with you fellers.
We could hire our own midget, even shorter than his.
Ain’t we gonna look like a bunch of Johnnie-come-latelies, bragging on our own midget! No matter how stumpy!
Woooooooo-wee. Boy, that was a miiiighty fine a-pickin’ and a-singin’. I’ll tell you what, you come on in here and sign these papers here and I’m a gonna you ten dollars a piece.
Hot damn! It’s the Soggy Bottom Boys!
I am a man of constant sorrow…