"Pipe on a Plate"

BR: "Bes' shremp Ah ever had wuz on thet cruze ship coupla yeerz ugo. They wuz 'bout eight eenches lawng an' 'bout an eench 'n a quarder in diamedur. Peece'a pahype on a playt. Thay had 'em split open on the playt served wit garlik 'n buttur. Man, them thangs wuz gud. Lahyke eatin' lobster."

Shoots and Litters

BR: "Yew heer 'bout that gahy thet got merderd? He got in sum arg-yew-mint 'n th'other gahy came out 'n shot 'eem. Guess it'z best not tuh say nuthin' to no one no more. Yew ind up gettin' yerself keeled."


'Would you like fries with that?' 'BOOM!'

Philippic in F Major

Wow. My hands hurt from the transcription.

BR: "This cuntry'z goin' tuh hell. Yew know what thay wanna do? Start the North Amerkun Yewnyen. Thar won' be no more USA. Won' be no doller no more; we'll have a currency jus' lahyk the Euro. That'z uh fact; thay've dyevulged it. That'z their ultimate goal bye twenny-twenny. That'z wut the Democratz want. Thay want yew tuh share yer wealth with the resta the cuntry. Gotta bail out all them defaultin' morgiges. Are yew kiddin' me? N' look et them commercials. Get a six hunnerd thousin' doller morgige fer twelve hunnerd a munth. Ah know a gahy wint to buya howse 'n the real estate lady wuz in kahootz with the morgige broker. She sez to him, 'If yew fahynance with us, we kin gitchu a three hunnerd thousin' doller howse fer a low payment.' So yew know what thay did? Thay baut it. Since thay baut it in the las' seven munthsa the year, thay didn' hafta pay no taxes. But then the enda the year come 'round 'n thay owed 'leven thousin' dollers in taxes. The taxes started gittin' figgered inda their morgige payment 'n it went up two 'n a haf tahymes wut thay wuz tole. 'N giss wut thay hadda do? FORE-CLOZ. 'N that's happenin' by the thousins."

Fuzzy Math

BR: "Well, that ole hurikane Deen missed Cancun 'n Cozymel, but we thaut it wuz gunna tear it all up, so we cancelled our cruze. Ah called the cruze cumpany 'n they sed, 'Wahy don' yew jus' leave yer munney with us 'n then yew kin jus' applahy it to yer cruze when yew rebook?' Ah sed, 'No thanks, cuz we dunno when that's gunna be. Cood be six munths.' Course they wanna keep yer munney. If they sell 100,000 tickets at $1000 each, that's tin millyun dollers they get-tuh keep in escrow jus' earnin' interest. They love that."

They'd love it even more to have the $90 million you short-changed them with your mental calculator.

The Truth About Truth Serum

BR: "Truth seerum is reeley sodium pennathal. If'n thay give yew too much uvit, yew jus' pass out. It don' make yew talk. A lotta people don't know that."

I am terrified to imagine how HE knows that. Not something you just pick up "on the job."

Brother, Can You Spare a Dollar?

BR: "Ah come outta 7-11 'n thar wuz this homeless gahy. He wuz warin' a hat that Ah recugnized. I assed, 'Yew a [XYZ] member?' He sez, 'Yeah!' Ah sez, 'Me too!' He sez, 'Yew gotta dahller?' Ah sez, 'Nah, Ah hadda uze a credit card here in 7-11. Ah didn' have no change.' (Ah did have munney, but Ah wuzn' gonna give none to him.) He sez, 'Ah reeley need a dahller fera cuppa coffee.' Ah sez, 'Well, come on back insahyd; Ah'll bahy yew a cuppa coffee an' a do-nut.' He sez, 'Nah, Ah jus' need the dahller. Ah'll git the coffee later. It'z too early fer breakfest fer me.' Ah KNEW he wuz lahyin'. Prolly gonna bahy booze 'er cigerettes. Yew jus' never know."

That BR sure is sharp. Who could imagine a homeless person lying about how he would spend a monetary gift?

Roach Clip

BR: "Ah wuz down fishin' et the coast, 'n Ah was lahyin' in bed Saturdee nahyt. Felt sum-uhm walkin' on me. Thought it wuz a rat. Turnz out, it wuz one-na them water roaches. Ah tell yew wut, thet wuz one big ole roach. Ah wint down to the Walmart 'n baut six canza that Hot Shot Drahy Fog. Can sez y'only need three fer the howse, but Ah baut six. Set them thangs off 'n win Ah came back, there wuz twelve'da fifteen dead roaches. They wuz startin'ta lay eggs 'n Ah figgered it wuz tahyme to kill 'em all. It wuz only $9.88 fer three canz 'n Ah baut two packiges. Gud thang too, cuz Ah'm gunna have to do it agin here in three weeks."

How, um, lavish.

That Kid Is Forked

[While viewing something on the Internet in hushed tones with Cooter]

BR: "Gawlee. Luhk et this. This kid... musta bin runnin' with a fork. Ewww.... That hadda hurt. Ah giss them -- whaddya call 'em? Them indivijul prongs on a fork? Tahynes? -- Ah giss one went up one nostral 'n the other th'other. Betcha he won' do that agin. Nex tahyme he'll be runnin' with a spoon. Heh heh."

Watership Down

BR: "They hadda turnayduh in Brooklyn. Kin yew buhleeve that? A turnaduh. 'N yew hear 'bout them subwahyz in New York? It rahyned suh hard thet thahyr wuz three inchiz in one auhr. Thet storm fludded the subway systim. 'N them tracks iz 'lectrifahyd. Thet's the thrid tahym this yeer that happened. The mayor'z gunna holda heering t' figgur out whye that keeps happenin'. Ah kin tell ya whye -- them damn starecases iz wahyd open! They need'a put up sum canopees ta kitch that rahyn so that it don't flow down thim steps. Gawlee. That's jus' commun sinse."

Transference

BR: "Mooved a buncha crap outta the yard Saturdee. Pulled uppa concrete slab'da git it outta thar. Mah truck wuz fulla concrete. Mah back tahyrz wuz saggin'. Musta had two'da three thousand pounds in thar. Thin after that, we got all them timbers loaded up, all that scrap lumber frum the remodel. Braht it over'da that ravine 'n dumped it. Looks a lot better now. Next tahyme Ah hafta mow, it'll be a lot easier."

If it looks better now, it begs the question: what the hell did it look like before? The ravine must be stunning as a result of his efforts.

While I know this is not BR's vehicle, I can't help but imagine it looked something like this:

Wait a Minute, Mr. Postman

Greetings and apologies, readers; I was out of the office for a few days and (incredibly) did not access the Internet. In my absence, a colleague was kind enough to take a note or two. Although he's in a soundproof concrete bunker four miles away from BR, he was still able to hear him.

BR: "Don' never send nuthin' USPS Prayhoritee Mail. Thay sed it'd be thar two days 'er less; mah sun got the package seventeen days later. Ah raized all kindsa cain. They sed all'z they kuhd do wuz refund me the prahyce'a the shippin' if it never got thar. They wuz two fiddy-doller gift cardz fer his birthday that wuz two days away. Ah inded up drahyvin' up thar 'n givin' him munney 'nstead. 'N yew know Ah mailed him a letter at the same time 'n he got it the next day. Thirdy-nine cents. Then them damn thangs show up seventeen days later. Kuhdda sent 'em FedEx fer $5.61, but 'nstead it cost nahyne dollers. Ah said, 'Never agin.'"

The astute reader will ask, "Why the f*&^ didn't he just send the gift cards in the letter, insured for $50?"