When I worked in Texas my boss had a long list of colloquialisms .
I hope when you get home your Mama runs out from under the front porch, and bites you on the leg.
I hope a bolt of lightning hits you so hard there ain’t nothin’ left but a smokin’ hole in the ground.
If I ever find myself missing you I can always reload.
You lie like a dog.
He’d say “He’s rich as nine feet up a bulls a$$.”
When I asked him what he meant he said, “When you get nine feet up a bulls a$$, it starts gettin’ mighty RICH.”.
She thinks that she got a goldplated a$$hole.
She’s got curves in places that a lotta women ain’t even got places.
She looks good enough to make a preacher leave home.
My boss believed in quality, over quantity. He’d say " When you get to the end of a row of cotton, that’s all there is to pick." He didn’t want us to run out of work.
More fun than a bootfull of barbwire.
I’d beat you in a race, and I’d only be runnin’ on one leg half the time.
When talking about porn, or nude clubs, “Just because you’re on a diet, don’t mean you can’t look at the menu.”.
Boy, I was doing this when y’all was still XXXXoff to the underwear section in Sears catalog.
When giving directions, “First, y’all head down yonder a piece as the crow flies.”
Divorce is like a pay toilet. You have to pay to get rid of something you can’t keep.
Our Gov’mint is just the opposite. They make you pay for $hit you don’t want.
In 8 years that’s just a tiny fraction of his east Texas wisdom.
Put THAT in your jockstrap and snap it.