Since catspaw's pickin' down in the fambly room I couldn't hep mysef but to be a usin' this here pooter and seein' whatuz goin on and right off I foun this here thread and I got some stuff what'll be right hepfull to'un yer fren there Rick.

Now awhile back when I wuz at that Neil Young Center for the Terminally Screwed, I had this feller in my tiple band who had a story 'bout this very thang. Seems as how hisn great-great-great-great-great-great grampaw and gramma wuz on one of them boats. Yuh know I never cud figger out that great biznus. I mean I got me one of the great grampaw guys and all that my granpappy use to say bout him was he was poor and a drunk. Dunno' what made him great. Guess when granpap wuzns a boy they couldn't even afford to buy him a kite and cud only afford to rent him one instead. Granpappy give me a pitcher of great grampaw standin' out front the local tavern when he wuz hirin a kite.

Ennyhow a gettin back to my tiplin buddy Gaylord. He sez that his reltivs were a cook and deckhand and I guess she wuz purty fat cuz they stuck her up in the riggin to get some xtry speed up soaz they cud out run that other boat. But it seems as how that othern boat got a right fine shot off and his granmaw Nell took a big load a shot square up her bunghole. Well it seems she fell to the deck an busted both her legs too an as the boat was heelin' over right bad, she went a slidin' cross the deck. Her husband was belayin' a line down on the looerd gunnell an as she went flyin past she made a grab for him and snagged him by the gonads. He wuz a might surprised but when he saw the fix she was in he screamed, "Hang on My Balls Nellie, Hang on My Balls!" But jist then a big wave cumma worshin' down the deck and he lost his grip an they both went to Ol' Davy Jones locker. Another sailor saw the whole sad thang an rit up a song atellin' bout it. Then a few years later, Gaylord sez somebody else stole the tune an changed some of the lines roun an it become some othern song called "Hang on the Bell Nellie."

Now Rick, catspaw sez this is sumpin' called the foke process, but I think it souns more like jist plain steelin whichn I doan holt no truck with.

Sorry, gotta' go. Think catspaw's on his way in.

CLETUS