I was in hurry, running
late, and had to pick-up
my grandson, my little
Missy’s boy, Joe; he had
some, play, or, I don’t know
what, at the school, and I
come up over the hill and
they got this flager in the
middle of the road, a girl,
she’s holding a stop sign
but I t’weren’t in no mood
to stop and I goes right
around her and she starts
a-yelling but I keep a-goin’
down to the end of the
road and there’s another
one, with his sign, waving
it at me like a club, but
I t’weren’t going to stop
for him neither; and mister
if he hadn’t a-jumped out
the way, he’d a been roadkill!
Well, they tried to charge me
with attempted murder but
I hired one of those Jewish
fellows and he get the charge
reduced but they still wanted
to put me in the slammer and
sent me to see one of them
headshrinkers, and he asked
me a bunch of questions–
foolish one’s if you ask me–
and he decided I am what
they call “non compost mentitis,”
meaning they can’t do anything
to me because I am crazier than
a bed bug…Didn’t mean nothing
to me. Let ’em think what they
like. Hell, I know there ain’t nothing
wrong with me ‘cepting I run my
mouth a little too much…Anyway,
after they see they can’t put me
in jail, they tried to take my money;
but I fooled them: put everything
in my little Joe’s name. Prit-near
half a million dollars. He He!
They can’t get a plugged-nickel out of me!
Cause I don’t own nothing!
Not a red cent! He He! I fixed their wagons!
I’m a lunatic, see? A crazy man! He He!
Nuttier than a fruitcake!
In Between Hangovers 