Not enough fabric in that woman's outfit to pad a crutch.

That woman was so tall she could stand flat-footed and piss in the radiator of a Chevy pickup. (For this to make sense, you have to be old enough to remember when cars and trucks had radiator caps on the outside of the hood.)

We lived so far out in the country, the first thing we had to do in the morning was sweep the coon-farts outa the kitchen.

(The last two are from the late H. Allen Smith, who had a bundle of 'em, and put the publishable ones in his books.)

Peter.