Born in Texas and raised in the Southwest corner of Virginia. My Grandpa had more sayings than Carter had liver pills. Here are some I remember. Most times I knew what he meant but I never did figure out whether a girl having a butt like a forty-dollar mule was good or bad.
Don’t y’all kill y’alls self swerving to avoid a dead squirrel in the road.
Sometime when gold bricks are a quarter ya' only have a dime.
He’s bigger ‘n two trees.
That dog don’t hunt.
That ship done sailed, Son.
Wish in one hand and piss in the other and see which one fills up first.
Y’all couldn’ pour piss out a boot with the instructions printed on the bottom.
That gal has a butt like a forty-dollar mule.
If y’all can’t eat it, drink it, race it or take it to bed y’all don’t need it.
Don’t sell y’all’s mule to buy a plow.
Plant a tater get a tater.
Son, y’alls ‘bout as useful as a pocket on the back of a shirt.
If I put y’all’s brain in a gnat it would probably fly backwards.
Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit.
Don’t piss on my boot and try to tell me it’s rainin’, Son.
I’ll be on y’all like stink on a polecat.
I felt like a turd in a punchbowl at the Sunday social.