Would You Please Pass the Jelly?

I remember when my countrified rube of a third cousin happened upon one my family’s gentle Sunday soirees at the local Country club and asked for something he called “jelly”. Which I can only assume is some foul low food made from the leavings of a roadkill opossum he found while stumbling home from some dusty barn dance soused to the gills on his “lightning water”. The experience of dealing with this hill-folk barbarian was chronicled in small telefilms that I believe run on what the common folk call television. I think you will be amused.

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3 thoughts on “Would You Please Pass the Jelly?

  1. Oh, if I only had a nickel for every time this has happened to me. I would be quite rich. ;)

    Does anyone else sense the quiet seething rage of the family members not only towards their relative but for each other? Or is that just me?

    *crickets*

    Oh dear.

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