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Jeff Whitten: Talking ugly and writing songs
editor's notes

I am working on a short week due to the holiday, etc., so here goes nothing to write home about: 

1. My wife got on me for cussing about something the other day.

“Don’t talk ugly,” she said. That’s what she calls it, “talking ugly.”

And she’s right. It’s ugly. Besides, as a fat little weekly newspaper editor hack, I tend to think about all the words I’d never dream of sticking in this newspaper, and this in a time when young people swear like sailors without ever bothering to enlist. It also calls to mind words you can put in a weekly newspaper that sort of might go either way. 

Here’s a short list: Onions. Pillowy. Buns. Tally, especially between or near the words magic and whacker.

Also, one of my drill sergeants from Fort Sill used to say “doo doo” a lot.

“This room looks like Doo-Doo, Private Whitten,” he’d say. “Rectify it.”

Rectify sounds kind of like it could be on the borderline.

OK, I’ll hush. 

2. FYI, I am actually a semi-professional lyricist of no repute. A talented buddy of mine writes music, and sometimes I inflict a couple lyrics on him for no good reason. We have a legally binding agreement in which he’ll get 65 percent of the profits and I’ll get 35 percent if he ever sells a song.

Here’s a sample. I’m still working on this one, but I’m thinking it might work good with some bro-country-rap hybrid music, if you can call that stuff music.

Sittin on my front porch drinking my beer Wife’s out back, skinning my deer Life’s sure good if you don’t have to work Just mess around all day watching Miley Cyrus twerk My aunt sells crack, Her girlfriend likes meth Uncle says their breath Would burn down a shack CHORUS: Don’t wear no shirt cause my belly’s out to there Tattoo on my butt says born not to care I’m a redneck son of an old redneck man A certified rebel without any plan. I had me a truck kept running into ditches Broke my nose and had several stitches Don’t need no truck got nowhere to be Got me some Bud light and Fortnite on TV Then I got a wild hair and got a ride to the store Stole some things I’ve never stole before Deputies came along and whopped me with some sticks Tazed me on my belly til I thought I might be sick Life’s sure good when you can sit around all day Deputies say if I behave I’ll be out in 90 days.

Excerpts from emails copied directly from the junk folder, which I like to call “life’s rich pageant,” with all apologies due REM: Hi Jeff National Fried Chicken Day is today, and it’s the perfect time for a story on America’s chicken preferences and how they have transformed the fast food industry in 2022. Dear Sir/Madam I am in touch with a group of Arabs who are foreign investors from North Africa, they have their funds and they are looking for whom they can trust as a partner from overseas for mutual joint ventures that will be of benefit for both parties.

Therefore, if you are interested in this offer or have someone who is ready, willing and able to participate in this offer then do not hesitate to respond showing your interest.

Their aim is to invest in hotels, real estate or a manufacturing company outside the shores of Ghana with a company director or a company owner that has a progressive existing company .

You will be considered if you are sure you meet their criteria and can fly to Ghana so the both parties can have a top table meeting on how to proceed upon your arrival in Ghana.

Regards, Ernest Anaglo

Next week: Updates from Ghana on the transformation of America’s chicken preferences.

Have a great week.

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