Bubba & Beddy Mooch

*yawn*
*stretch*
*skritch skritch skritch*
*yawn*

I'm tired. I worked a 12 hour day yesterday and still had spreadsheets and numbers dancing through my head all night. I remember dreaming about counting pillows in a linen closet as the alarm went off.

At work I've been talking to so many people from Texas lately (we're taking over the world, one pet ID tag at a time, starting with TX! bwahhahaaa) that I think I'm picking up a twang. When I refer to people in plural any more, I just call 'em Y'allz. "Y'allz mind if I make more bean? All Y'allz gonna drink some if I do?" Shit. I think I talk like that anyway... but now it has an accent. Oh, and it finally happened... in the 200 or so new store registrations I've worked on from Texas, I finally got one that listed the store owner as Bubba. Not kidding. Y'allz know Ah wunt kid 'bout no Bubba.

I'm sure they all (themn's, I believe it is) hang up after a conversation with me and say, "Friggin Yank... wah Y'allz s'pose themn's gotta tawk so fahnny?"
Canada is just as fun. "Oh, Hi, eh. We've got your tag display, eh? And I was wondering ah-boat it, eh..."

I love accents. I love to mimic them - for me, it's the same kind of fun some people get from trying on new shoes. It doesn't take much either. If I spend long enough in someone's presence, I tend to follow their speech patterns anyway. Five minutes after I walk in the door at Tonto's house, I find myself matching her leftover Maine "ahyup" without even thinking about it. "Bad traffic?" "Ahyup."

I'm a linguistic ho. A syntax slut.
If I'd a'knowed you'd a'wanta went, I'd a'seed you'da got'ta git'ta go...(the faster you say it, the better it gets)


I think it comes from growing up with a Grandma who had a heavy Hungarian accent. We used to do everything to get her to say the word "third," because she couldn't pronounce 'th', so it came out "turd." "Grandma, which one is the house where Mom took piano lessons?" "Da turd house on da right." Told you I was easily amused.

Wayyyy back in my childhood, when my Uncle Rudi came to visit us from Hungary, he asked my Mom what a 'beddy mooch' was. Mom was stumped. She asked where he'd heard it, in what context. He said he heard everyone say it all the time. Not long after, one of us, upon receiving something we wanted, said, "Oh, thank you very much." Rudi lept up in a fit of joy, pointed and said, "Beddy Mooch! Ahh! Ten Q Beddy Mooch!!!" I still like beddy mooch more than very much.

Alas, another workday looms. All Y'allz enjoy yer day, hear? Doan make me git Bubba....

Ten Q Beddy Mooch