criticks of buddy don: whut a cuple more comminters sed

fer the most part, my life has bin one whar ye could say twuz better lucky than good. fer proof of that, cunsidder the hi qualty of them that rites commints here.

i writ bout anonnymus wundern whuther i wuz trine to be funny or sumthin by ritin in hillbilly dialeck. thay wuz sum good commints that cum frum that, witch one of em leads to a verr good idee (thankee smijer!).

we kin save whut smijer had to say bout them commints frum anonnymus till the end on a counta how it brangs up a good idee. meanwhile, twuz my verr good luck to have this commint frum anne johnson frum the gods are bored n six word blog:

"Anonymous" doesn't have a lock on proper grammar him/herself. Writing must be true to the heart and soul, and this is the way you want to do it, BD. To thine own self be true.

lucky a nuff fer me, i dont know no other way to do it.

the next commint cums frum a feller i aint never met but feel lack i bin a'knowin all my life, who that wood be buck frum the same blog as smijer, tete-a-tete-a-tete (caint make them symbulls cum out rite on blogger fer sum reason):

The first time I ever read this blog I laughed out loud because it reads almost exactly like me and many of my kin folks talk.

I think it is funny as hell and purty much dead on.

I thank if we followed the blood river Buddy we would find that many of mine are kin to yorn.

mayhap i feel lack i know buck on a counta we could be cuzins or sumthin. twoodnt sprize me n twood be a honor ifn turnt out to be true!

the next commint is nigh onto poetry, cummin frum a comminter name of marcia, who she rites a grate blog bout knittin n purt near ever other subjeck under the sun name of purls before swine:

Oh buddy don. I have to get to bed right now, but need to put this down before I forget. Over the past few weeks I've been gazing on my own navel on the idea of of "personal vernacular". At this time, however, I will spare you the configuration of the lint, therein.

Personal vernacular is a powerful thing. It is rich and poor. It connects and separates. It has sound and imagery. It can sustain thought without a word spoken. It is a word spoken, without need of thought.

It is the blankie that comforts and helps us transition to new worlds and experiences.

It is the wallpaper of our soul.

lack i sed, the way marcia knits wurds together is pure poetry. i wish i coulda cum up with half them grate metafors bout persunal vernackular.

finely, heres whut smijer had to say, witch this is such a good idee that i am a'gone try to see whuther i kin make sumthin of it:

Have you ever done any audio? What I hear when I read you probably isn't exactly what you hear when you write... I'd love to hear the 'real thing'.

I'm afraid I've all but lost recollection of the dialects I grew up with, but I love to hear any country dialect, including European ones... they all sound a little bit like home to me.

fack is, i have dun a lil audio, but i aint dun whut i shoulda dun alreddy dun ere now: record a lil bit of this here dialeck that i kin here clear as a bell in my mind but kin convey to the page only so good (never as good as i kin here it).

fer eggsample, nigh onto everbidy knows that down south the furst persun singular is pronounced without the dipthong that makes it two vowel sounds, a "aaah" follerd by a "ee" sound. we dont add the 'ee'. tiz almost impossibull to capchur that in letters, so i dun give it up n settled on usin 'i' on a counta i figger most folks know bout how that wurd is pronounced by folk lack me. thang is, i aint a'gone putt 'aaah sed this' nor 'aaah sed that' but ye kindly git the idee.

innywho, thankee one n all fer yer criticisum. ye caint git a nuff of that in this world fer the most part n i am verr gratefull fer it.