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We’ere s’pose ta pa-lay sum moo-sic ada parq, bu’ta blue nor’earn hadun blowed en an Billy sayid et’us too code ta pa-lay. Ee-sayid ees ands wereta code, anet hurta press donda strings on ees gee-tar. Soes ee grabas ah fitty-fie gal-un drum en fill’det partwaiz wid wud, den ee try’d ta light et, bu’ta wend’as blowin so’ard et kepta blowin da’match out. Billy ga’pist cuz’ee kept agitten burnt atrying ta star datder far in da drum. So he gits ah tua-gal-un can’uh gaz, en pours ‘bout half of et onta da wood, endat dare drum. Den’ee lightsah match, leans o’er ta drum an throw’d et en wid ees’ead enda drum soes-ee cun may’sure et lights a’right. Wal’ser, wena datdar match heats datdar gaz, thars a ‘plosion lek sum’un teched offa new-kay-leer bomb, cauz ah bigaz sheet farbol cumsa bustin ouhta datdar drum, enden a ri-gud emmy-ta-shun ob a musha-room-clod gosa-rizan upenta da skai. Whal Billy steal got-ees full ‘ead enda drum wenda farbol cumsa barulin outa datdar drum. Ah’furst wee theeunk ees dun gonblin cuz’eesa scramem, acunsee, acunsee, bu’tits onlay a tempor-airy bli-ness frumda bri-ness of the ‘plosion. Wal’ser wenwe’d noed dat Billy ant blin, wee stara laffin so’ard wee fallas dannon da’grow’d cuz alda air ronta Billy’s fa’es dun burn’toff, an ees fa’es tur’na bri-reed. Etus ‘bout da fun-ee-us thang we’d er-sawed. Ee luke’d lie’a reed-flou-er, wid bur-tumber pedals. Cors’em Billy di-un thenget uz var’ee funee, ba’ee ne’er ad mucha senzoumor entwaz.
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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Hi Dale,
I'll admit when I first read this I wasn't a fan, but with a few changes you might have something good here. Bare with me as I try to sort this out.
(01-16-2012, 11:18 PM)Erthona Wrote: We’ere s’pose ta pa-lay sum moo-sic ada parq, bu’ta blue nor’earn hadun blowed en an Billy sayid et’us too code ta pa-lay. --We were supposed to play some music at the park, but a blue northern had (done) blown in and Billy said it was too cold to play.
Ee-sayid ees ands wereta code, anet hurta press donda strings on ees gee-tar. --He said his hands were too cold and it hurt to press down the strings on his guitar
Soes ee grabas ah fitty-fie gal-un drum en fill’det partwaiz wid wud, den ee try’d ta light et, bu’ta wend’as blowin so’ard et kepta blowin da’match out. --So he grabs a fifty-five gallon drum and filled it part of the way with wood and tried to light it, but the wind was blowing so hard that it kept blowing the match out.
Billy ga’pist cuz’ee kept agitten burnt atrying ta star datder far in da drum.--Billy got pissed because kept getting burned while trying to start the fire in the drum.
So he gits ah tua-gal-un can’uh gaz, en pours ‘bout half of et onta da wood, endat dare drum. --So he get a two gallon can of gas and pours about half of it on the wood in the drum.
Den’ee lightsah match, leans o’er ta drum an throw’d et en wid ees’ead enda drum soes-ee cun may’sure et lights a’right. --Then he lights a match, leans over the drum and throws it in with his head in the drum so he can be sure it lights okay.
Wal’ser, wena datdar match heats datdar gaz, thars a ‘plosion lek sum’un teched offa new-kay-leer bomb, cauz ah bigaz sheet farbol cumsa bustin ouhta datdar drum, enden a ri-gud emmy-ta-shun ob a musha-room-clod gosa-rizan upenta da skai. --Well sir, when that match hits the gas an explosion occurs like something ticked off a nuclear bomb because a big-as-shit fireball came bursting out of the drum and then a (real good?) imitation of a mushroom cloud rises toward the sky.
Whal Billy steal got-ees full ‘ead enda drum wenda farbol cumsa barulin outa datdar drum. --Well, Billy has still got his entire head in the drum when the fireball comes barreling out of it.
Ah’furst wee theeunk ees dun gonblin cuz’eesa scramem, acunsee, acunsee, bu’tits onlay a tempor-airy bli-ness frumda bri-ness of the ‘plosion. --At first we think he has gone blind because he is screaming, 'I can't see! I can't see!', but it's only temporary blindness from the brightness of the explosion.
Wal’ser wenwe’d noed dat Billy ant blin, wee stara laffin so’ard wee fallas dannon da’grow’d cuz alda air ronta Billy’s fa’es dun burn’toff, an ees fa’es tur’na bri-reed. --Well sir, we figured out that Billy wasn't blind we started laughing so hard we fell down on the ground because all the hair on Billy's face had burned off and his face was bright red.
Etus ‘bout da fun-ee-us thang we’d er-sawed.--It was about the funniest thing we had ever seen.
Ee luke’d lie’a reed-flou-er, wid bur-tumber pedals. --He looked like a reed flower with burnt umber petals.
Cors’em Billy di-un thenget uz var’ee funee, ba’ee ne’er ad mucha senzoumor entwaz. --Of course Billy didn't think it was very funny, but he never had much of a sense of humor anyway.
Just a few suggestions for clearing this text up. I think you have a talent for poetry, but your spelling is deplorable (I don't mean to sound harsh)
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this is a true story.
on bonfire night, i went outside to light the bonfire (it was a biggun.)
so i poured the petrol on it and realised i had no lighter. i eventually got one and
when i lit the fire it went whooomph suck the air out of my lungs melted me trousers and burnt half me eye brows off
there was a brown fairy ring about 50 feet in diameter. we had about 30 guests and all of them were falling over themselves
laughing.
oh ...you can shove your poem where the sun don't fuckin shine  
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Mark,
hoo r u ta crtisize mai speldin, u mus tink uze godor sumtin. Mai speltin es perfk da ways id es cuz eye spled thengs duh ways dat fels gud tu may. An iffen eys saz ids K, den ids K. K? Ey red uh buk bi sum feller namo Ray, un dat wat ee saz, zo dare!
That's a fair translayshun (see, being from Ally-bam-me isn't always a drawback), but it is "fool head" not "entire head", and it is "a red flower with burnt umber petals." As far as changing it, I am sorry you are incapable of seeing the brilliance of this great poem but, editing would only destroy my artistic integrity.
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Billy,
I guess I shouldn't have used your name, it just gave it away to easy!
I can't shove it where the sun don't shine, that avenues already full, why do think I am posting on this site?
At least you realize it is a poem!
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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Okay. I struggled with the translating because in Alabama we don't pronouce Red as 'reed', it's more like 'Ray-ud' . . .
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It's a north central Texas dialect (Wichita Falls*), it's a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll! 
*"Where the Whippoorwill blows all the stars all around,
and the lonesome ole coyote calls,
and you were the very last reason I had,
to go back to Wichita Falls"
from "Wichita Falls Ballad" by Mike Williams
Wichita Falls. It's a good place to be from...far away from!
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(01-17-2012, 01:30 AM)Erthona Wrote: Mark,
hoo r u ta crtisize mai speldin, u mus tink uze godor sumtin. Mai speltin es perfk da ways id es cuz eye spled thengs duh ways dat fels gud tu may. An iffen eys saz ids K, den ids K. K? Ey red uh buk bi sum feller namo Ray, un dat wat ee saz, zo dare!
That's a fair translayshun (see, being from Ally-bam-me isn't always a drawback), but it is "fool head" not "entire head", and it is "a red flower with burnt umber petals." As far as changing it, I am sorry you are incapable of seeing the brilliance of this great poem but, editing would only destroy my artistic integrity.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Billy,
I guess I shouldn't have used your name, it just gave it away to easy!
I can't shove it where the sun don't shine, that avenues already full, why do think I am posting on this site?
At least you realize it is a poem!
Dale am i that bad 
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I chanced upon this while working on my tomb of a screed and
was so flattered that you had written a poem for me that I felt it
only appropriate to respond.
Thank you.
Nonsensical Ray
P.S. And to any miscreant who would deem it otherwise:
If Dale says it's a poem, it's a poem.
P.P.S. While the poem does, indeed, stand beside itself like
two separate 600 pound gorillas, there are a few irregularities
(as others have mentioned) in the dialect. Living in Austin,
unfortunately, doesn't lend itself to learning to write in any of
the authentic Texas dialects. Living anywhere else in Texas,
unfortunately, doesn't lend itself to living.
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I am offended on behalf of hats, horses and chewing terbaccy, none of which feature in this supposedly stereotypical Texan diatribe.
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Well, technically, it's OK for me to make fun of Texians (archaic for 'Texans',
which they are) cause I are one. (Baytown, Texas my hometown wallows
about 20 miles east of Houston. I live about one mile from the largest oil
refinery in the western hemisphere. At night, it is never really dark here.
But, don't get me wrong, Texas is really a fine place to live, it's just the people
who live here that suck.
Billy: I read your bonfire story and it reminded me of an old poem of mine:
< ADD > which I've just posted over in the "fun" section.
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Oh Ray, you miss once again. You try for a barb only to find you have an empty quiver!
I lived the first 27 years of my life in the Wichita Falls areas. I live in Austin because it has trees, unlike most of the rest of Texas, and I am partial to trees. I would have no problem trading the half million people who current reside in Austin, for any random sample of rural Texans. Starting at the age of six, my dad took me with him to work in the oil fields on any day I was not in school. While rural people may be somewhat ignorant of certain things, they will at least stand toe to toe with you and tell you what they think of you, not sneak behind your back telling lies about you. I'll take uneducated honest people over educated liars any day of the week. All people are provincial, city folks are just provincial in a different way, that and being arrogant about their supposed sophistication. One of the smartest men I ever met was a farmer with a sixth grade education, who talked slow, and went by the name of Coon. He had more wit in his pinky, than a tank load of PhD's.
BTW, the above story is fact, with the exception that the main character was not named Billy, and it happened in someone's back yard, instead of a park. The postlude of the story is that "Billy" was a very good musician and singer, and had to play that night at a bar. He was half Cherokee, and so was already somewhat red in complexion. The fire did burn his eyebrows completely off, and gave him a very red "sunburn". He had very long hair which he usually wore in braided pig tails. He did in fact look very much like a flower we called a sunset Susan, because the round middle part was a dark red, and the petals were a dark golden brown color. As he was approximately 6'5" and pretty much solid muscle, as his day job was tying iron, we did not kid him too terribly much.
Dale
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The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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...and yet, still no hats :p
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Hats is fer fancy OKshuns, we wore caps when we worked! I mean, do you know what a good Stetson cost? Just an everydayer'd run you over 100. I still have my last pair of Redwing work boots. Course there's nothing like a good worn in pair of cowboy boots for comfort, but their not so good for walking on oil slick ground.
Dale
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The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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Our Akubras run to much the same cost but you've gotta have one. Not boots so much, they're for fancy folk, we've just got tough feet.
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Akubras? Sounds like some exact form fitting boob ware!
Actually I had one for a long time. They're nice for keeping the sun off, but not so great if the wind gets up!
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I've had a Resistol Straw Cowboy Hat for about a zillion years now.
Still looks ok. I wear it to the Houston Fatstock Show and Rodeo's
Rabbit Show. Love the Netherland Dwarfs and New Zealand Reds.
Nonsensical Ray
P.S. No class prejudice here: All Texians suck equally*, unhampered by
artificial barriers or prejudices or preferences of any kind.
*Though some, truth be known, ARE more equal.
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(01-17-2012, 07:37 PM)rayheinrich Wrote:
*Though some, truth be known, ARE more equal.
*and some taste better with apple sauce
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and some are best when lied about.
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The only person I have ever heard say that Texas or Texans (only non-Texans use the word Texians, the same people who say Row-Day-OH, or Pee-Can) sucks was a Yankee. But hey Ray, why don't you go down to one of your little dwarf rabbit rodeos and yell out your opinion real loud and see what kind of response you get. Even a dog knows better than to foul his own bedding! An that there's the truth pardner! And of course when I say pardner I mean ankle biter!
Well you come in here a yelling, just like you own this bar,
and that coat and tie you’re wearing makes you look like a rodeo star,
but to you the lone prairie is like a Marlboro cigarette,
you found it in some magazine right beside your Penthouse pet.
Well you ain’t rode no broncos, and you ain’t roped no steer
you ain’t put no hot branding iron on no Brahma rear,
you ain’t worked in the shoots so don’t try telling me that,
you ain’t no cowboy, you just found that hat.
Well you’re learning how to drink whiskey, and you’re gonna learn how to fight,
and you just might get the woman home, if you get her stoned tonight
you might even get her buffaloed into thinking you’re a rodeo king,
but in the morning when she wakes up, she won’t believe a thing.
Well you ain’t rode no broncos, and you ain’t roped no steer
you ain’t put no hot branding iron on no Brahma rear,
you ain’t worked in the shoots so don’t try telling me that,
you ain’t no cowboy, you just found that hat.
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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didn't they used to be called texicans as well?
i've got a baseball cap 
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