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Fantastic word game

A one-eyed dog growled menacingly, showing its teeth as it stared through the fence, as if daring anyone to even think of coming within striking distance of the mechanical bull that it was charged with protecting.
 
Protecting the Denny's-sponsored, permanently-guarded mechanical bull are several of HOSS scanman's best of the best, plus a bunch of big and burly guys from PowerWorld Town, and that very same one-eyed menacing dog who gives me kisses but gives everyone else the evil eye.
 
The evil eye already sees the answer to the question posed by the rest o' us playin' this here game, n' it's a question that most assuredly deserves some type o' an explanation given so as to sooth our collective curiosity, but fer someone so hell-bent against animals, why is it ev'ry time you mention one, yer in some kind of physical embrace with it?

First, you romance an unsuspectin', overly trustin' heifer. Now, here you are gettin' smooches from a one-eyed mutt. Then, if'n that's not already peculiar e'nuff, we add to it yer fairly unhealthy obsession with a mechanical bull.

I just don't know 'bout you, WMC, but it's one o' them reasons why I keep the ol' cross hairs lined up in yer general die-rection. 😂
 
Your farm or your ranch or Ed's Freezer Of Doom (FOD as some prefer) are all far too cold'a climate fer me n' my critters, so I reckon we'll just stay down here n' swelter in the heat.

Only use fer a snow shovel down here is scoopin' poop, n' that's just how I like it.
 
The choice is yours to drink Country Time Lemonade, but I reckon I'd be a lil' careful if'n you ever order it dee-livered from down here, Padre, 'cuz that's just 'nother name we use fer the ol' white lightnin', er as y'all Northerners might call it, old-fashioned moonshine.
 
Old-fashioned moonshine might not be strong enough to erase from my memory dmargalotti's latest error-strewn contribution.

First of all, it's two sentences and should have a period instead of a comma, and second, an extra "o" crept into "lemonade." Six demerits from us here in the Boudoir, and, perhaps, skull fragments and gray matter from WMC.
Oh, and three belated demerits to rcm for "sooth" instead of "soothe" in #51,683.
 
"Contribution after contribution," he announced, "I will keep right on posting here at the Fantastic Word Game (TFWG as all but a shrinking minority prefer) until the cows come home."

...or until the USDA raids my Freezer of Doom (FOD as many prefer).
I have some left-over demerits which I will be happy to get rid of.
 
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Counting demerits makes my mind wander back to the days when I was just knee-high to a grasshopper n' I'd sit there in front o' the squawk box watchin' "The Count" do his thing.

 
Do his thing if you insist, but I think it would be better if you do your own thing.
 
Do your own thing, Mr. Czar o' Linguistics n' lil' miss intern o' petite stature n' golden locks, n' load me on down with them there demerits, but it's sooth to me n' my kind, n' that's the truth.

Takin' a lil' page outta our mayflower-dwellin' compañero's playbook here, but...see what I did there?
 
The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth are what we will expect you to tell the court when you raise your right hand.
 
Raise your right hand, rcm, place your left hand on the Bible (just the Old Testament, as I prefer), and tell me with a straight face that you actually consulted a dictionary and still don't know the difference between "sooth" and "soothe."
 
Soothe your soul by listening to some old-time rock 'n' roll music.

So saith Bob Seger.
 
Old-time rock 'n' roll music got turned up loud (by my neighbor, Mr. Ed), n' made me up n' forget what me n' CT were just talking about.

Dad blame it, Mr. Ed. You n' yer sneaky (increasingly notorious, as I'm beginnin' to prefer) appliances.
 
Theology is the Padre's dee-partment, n' he'd be the one best suited to give any words o' wisdom on what the good book may say, but I was just merely try'na get out o' discussin' my ignorance o' not catchin' the earlier mistake I made.
 


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