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Sun u ain’t gotta tel me dat. We awl rimimber wat happined to da boy wat didn’t keep hiz poultice moyst. Dam yanks giv him a better burial then I coulda.
Granny doin da stuffin. Sumtime her stuffin tases like her Spanish moss poultice. Don’t tel her
Postum on a broke stik and postum drippins on vinison cube stake. Side a boom boom crawdads an coon stuffin. Goin awl out dis year boys.
