Appalachian modified Scots-Irish!
Hyar weuns air sippin a dope just when the wether air airish outside.
Ah wint tu thu stor yistiday, bote sum stuf and had it ropped up. My laig wuz hurtin so I put my stuf in my poke and bid them jaspers so long.
Afore i got home howsumever, I did stop and bote sum flare fer biscuits. The peckerwood in thu store said did I want hit in a bag ur a poke. Well I wuz tard and I said, thu lord, what air a bag uf flare? He siad he wood git me a poke uf hit, and did.
I knowed everthang wuz all rite over yander nyar the sangin place and the entar bunch went on a sataday. So I githered sum branch letuce un onions and sum grease to hete on hit and went on thar.
I wuz keerful no tu burn myself whil walkin the plumb distance thar. The rode thar was si gogglin, an thu lord, hit were ruff goin.
Youns ort tu go thar youself when ya kin go. It air a place whar thu entar bunch go.
I do nede sum new tars onto my truck thoe and I think the peckerwood at thu sarvid station got sum used uns fer me.
I nevr axed fer much hep in mah lif, but wif my laig hurinn an my tars thin, I did ketch a rid wif Popcorn Smif over thar.
Oncest I ot thar over yander everthang got all rite wif a whif ur too uf that shine in me.
Lif air gud.
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