Well feller' sailers'... I'll have ya'll know dat' I now be a workin' 'fer a livin' and 'dat I ain'ts had either 'da time or inclination to do any sailing here lately.
Nevertheless I did done recently founds me a fine paddle boat a lying abouts unclaimed beneath sum' old house in 'da backwoods of Everglades City 'jest da' other day.
And I'll also have ya'll knows 'dat I was most tempted to swipe dat' dern boat when nobody be a lookin' too but I done changed my mind after learnin' 'dat it had once belonged to a local tribe of Seminole Injuns' from back in 'da day.
For ya' see, I chickened out after learning 'dat these same Injuns' had assaulted and later brutally kilt' sum' mean feller who's name I already done forgots', after strongly suspecting him of having murdered a number of their own whom he had previously hired in the days immediately preceding their demise.
Evidently 'dat mean son-of-a-gun would off his hired help and later conveniently dispose of 'dem poor souls amongst the alligator infested mangroves when payday would roll around. And since 'dem Injuns' weren't no dummies, they soon figured him out and gave him some of his own medicine.
So yeah... I do believe 'dat I done did 'da right thing to change my mind 'bout swipin' 'dat paddle boat 'cause fer' sure I didn't want to then possibly incur the wrath of any Injun' spirits still a lurkin' about that isolated community.
By the way.... why anybody would wanna' refer to this fishin' village as a city is well beyond my high level of edukashion 'cause if da' truth be known, 'dis here dot-on-a-map ain't even gots' itself so much as a Starbucks or even a McDonald's 'fer 'dat matter.
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