well.. as you can see. some ol bastard done to0k our chickens. shoo.. ma been actin a lil strange lately. we aint gettin no eggs for breakfast anymo. just a plain ole glass o milk. mmhmm. ma aint lettin me go out no mo.. cuz she claimin 'they too many bad folks out there' shoo ma! no they aint! well. pa's been shook up too. hes all talkin bout how if they ever lay they hands on ole betsy.. he'll stick a pitchfork in em so fast they wont know that they been pinned by a billyhilly! ha. i was like, shoo paa.. they done getch choo first! now a days you caint even live in a safe place.. hmph. well, now we on 'ulta securitay' where pa went to the store and bought ANOTHER pitchfork and some rat traps ... a liddel odd.. he puttin em ol rat traps round ol bestsy.. he say he aint lettin no fool take our betsy boo boo. i was like shoo pa! aint no body gonna step on yo rat traps cept u and ma! he was testin em. and he done hurt himself.. ole fool...
little ole jeannie

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this mornin...i dun got up at the crack o dawn...stormed up some of em flapjacks for lil jeannie n pa...and dun go outside. and soon as i stepped out that flap of a door, what dun ma see!!? INVISIBLE CHICKENS. thas dipply right...OUR CHICKENS DUN GONE N RUN OFF. and i says to myself, "ma...how the hell em chickens gon get over that fence right there?" then...i saw em footprints...bout the size of my pitchfork prong...and i said to myself, "DAG GUMMIT...EM CHICKEN ROBBERS DUN GONE AND STOLE OUR POULTRY ALL WILLY NILLY!" i reckon, my eyes was about to go all teary on me, so i ran myself inside screamin, "PAAAA!" he dun come downstairs lookin all confused as if he got ran over by a dayum mule n was like, "whats all this bacon about?!!?" i says to him, "THEM DAYUM CHICKEN ROBBERS DUN GOT OUR CHICKENS!" and as fast as one of em ...whatchamacallit??...CHEETAWS!!!...he dun ran outside n got his pitchfork screamin, "IMA GET YA CHICKEN STEALERS!!" and i reckon....the whole farmin hillbilly community dun got up and went outside to see what the ruckus was about. poor pa...workin hard to get them chickens from charlie's chicken chops...and now...they all gone! all that's left is em feathers that aint gonna do us much good unless we run outta pillows. gotta keep my eyes open for em walnuts...takin our chicken pride. now i know i must keep my eyes on ol betsy...that cow means the willy nilly world to me. ima put this up on every tree n stable in the community:
WANTED
THEM CHICKEN STEALERS THAT GOT OUR CHICKENS
and our chickens too!
REWARD
4 pitchforks, 2 eggs, 1 bucket of fresh ol' betsy's milk, 8 of ma's fine flapjacks, n a buncha feathers
CONTACT
the fine diddly residence of pa, little jeannie, and ma's
help!!! -ma

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mmhmm, weoll.. i think its time for little jeannie to update didly o. since Ma aint on the compooter lookin on that hootin site they cawl "e-bay".. i mean i heard all you gots to do is have some fud ruckin little 'credit card' and you can 'biidd?' for things. shoO, ma's lookin for a milker for ol betsy. i done told her before that i dont think they sell em utter squeezers. buh she still-a-lookin. GIb up already mama! shoo, mas gettin too into all this willy nillyness. i mean me and pa are still into em suspenders and overalls. i heard ma was moving into the idea of makin me cawl her "mommeee" i was like shoo, what chu sayy?!?? i dont stink so. and then yesterday, i cawht her buyin milk from tha store. i was in so much shawk my suspenders almost fewl off! shes say ol betsy gettin a little old and slow. i said shOo mama! that aint no excoose! ol betsy been our lil milkin process since she was a lil calf! so what now shes a lil ricka deicken older.. buh aint nuttin a changed! MAMA.. whats wrong witch you?!?!
little jeannie

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dang ol' working from sunrise to sunset...it aint givin me enuf tyme to rite in this darn ol' thing. but i reckon i told ol' betsy to wait a darn diddly minute 'fore i go and get some fresh sqeazed milk...yum. It's rainin' now and i reckon i knew it woula rained 'fore it rained cuz my knee was a-hurtin. whenever my knee hurts it means rains a-comin' this-a-way. well, i'm lookin forward sum of that milk and a good ol' breakfast...cant wait. Now that's all for now...nows i gots to go call ma outta the house and tell her to fetch me betsy's ol' milkin' can while i get betsy's ol' milkin' stool. --pa--

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i must say...it's a fine hillbilly mornin down here. i reckon that i havent seen that ole sun in so long, i was gettin darn diddly albino. i was walkin around tha other day and then i heard some willy nilly screamin a-goin, "AHHHHH...A COW-TIPPIN GHOST!!" and i said to them frightened hillbillies, "AW NAW IT'S ME MA...I JUST AINT SEEN THE SUN IN SO LONG." and dang diddy, some people get mad and cant see that im human so they start whippin out them rusty pitch forks tryin to gourd me like a three horned bull all willy nilly. i was a-runnin like i aint ran before. sweat all drippin off me like i was runnin to get me one of them cheap chickens at at charlie's chicken chops. well anyway, i awoke myself this mornin at the crack o dawn...makin them flapjacks for little jeannie and pa. i walked my achey breaky heiny out into the fields to check on ole betsy...makin sure nobody tried to squeeze them utters for that tasty ole liquid calcium supplemument. and as usual, i gotta chase away some of them funkimatated hillbillies that try to steal our corny cobs. i say, people work hard these days, growin their crops tryin to feed their family...and here come these vegetable robbin geezers tryin to take away all the work we done. ahh well...just another day in hillbilly country for ya. -ma

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yeehaw! little jeannie here, ma told me to write in this liddel 19th century 'journal'-o0 haystack. mmhmm, well, since i aint got nuttin to say, i reckon i'll go on and talk up bout my rick-a-dicken mornin.. well, woke up as soon as them ole ro0sters cock a do0dle dooed.. and had me some of ma's flap jacks. mmMmm ma sure know how to work that 19 century grillin maddiger. shoo pa, its so high teck.. all you gotsa do is lite up that fire thing and its a goin! then, i put on mah knee highs and went out to feed em gooseys, we gotta fatten em up for thanksgivin ya know.. cuz pa caynt afford no turkey or some like that. shoo, we can barely afford to fertilize em grass for ol betsy. and no grass for her, means no milk for us. and shoo me ma says i need that milk to get me growin like weeds. so i can grow up and beat up em ol hicks that try to grab a piece of my overall. mayn, my suspenders are pullin on me again, i gots to go loosen em up. yawl take cares now!
little jeannie

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