Have you ever felted like a slave at your own church?? Well, listen to Shirley Q. Liquor and emphasize.

Let me tell you the damn truth. I’m about as woe out as a lady can git, by goin’ to church. Today’s church woe me out. They got me on what they call “Security Lady Duty”, and that’s onest a month or so. You get handed the key to the church. And you gota be the first person there, I tell you I had to be there at the crack a noon. Open the doors, switch on all the lights, check the temperatures, see if it was too humidity, pass out all the hymnals and programs, and then vacuum up in der. I felted like a slave at my own church!! I didn’t even put a dolla in that collection plate, no mam. I made my own change thank you, shoes.

Then when those other ladies get there…..Easta do not mean about hats. Now I’ve read crowns. And I have one or two beautifur hats myself, that I had made myself. Out of, uuh, alpashia wool and glue on diamonds and thangs. They’s beautifur, Jesus would like them. I wear them for his glurry. But those otha ladies be tippin they heads this-a-way, and that-a-way, and this-a-way, right up in ya face cause they wonts a compliment. They wonts Generic cilais cialis buy whithout prescription ya aks ‘em. Where ya got ya hat at?? But I’m not gonna give ‘em the satisfaction. Not if I have to vacuum. I gots pride now.

Tell yo mamma I aks her how she durrin.

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