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All Bout' C.B. Walker
Clarence Baynard Walker was born in
the very small town of Hogmawg, Tennessee (population 28).
He had a normal childhood up until one hot summer day, when he
almost died from an often fatal illness.
"I remember it like is was
yesterday. Me and my 12 brothers and sisters was workin' out in
the fields, when we hear Aunt Quintella hollerin' for us to come
in and eat the neck-bone sandwiches that she had made for our lunch.
We was share croppers yah see.Uh huh...
Aunt Quintella made the best
neck-bone sandwiches in the world! I swear, sometimes I wish that
she could raise from the dead just to make me a neck-bone
sandwich...and then take her evil ass back to hell where she
belong.
Anyway. This time ol' Auntee added a
lil' sum' extra to the sandwiches. I don't know where she got the
gumption to put some tuna fish in the neck-bone sandwiches, but
she did it.
I ate my sandwich just like
everybody else cause, in them days we was so poor that the only
meal we'd have all day was lunch. If you didn't eat lunch, come
midnight you'd
find yoe-self kicking the dogs ass for what little scraps he
got...I aint' lyin' neither baby, thats how my lil' cousin Beemoe
lost his left foot.
Ah huh, anyway...
About an hour later I started to
feel sick yah see. I told Aunt Quintella that I didn't feel too
good but she didn't believe me and told me to get my possum faced
ass back to work or she was gonna give me the worst whuppin' of my
life.
I thought to myself that-that was
impossible cause Daddy already gave me the worst whuppin' of my
life. Yah see, when I was in what yawl call first grade, I got a
bad mark and my daddy toe my ass up so tough that I was legally
retarded up until the fourth grade.
Uh huh...and we didn't have no
special ed in them days, they just made you follow the school
janitor around holdin' a dust pan till school let out.
What was we talkin' about again?
Oh yeah...
At that very moment, I thew' up all
over her dress and even in the glass of lemonade that she was
bout' to drink.
Auntee Quintella was known for havin'
a weak stomach, so without missin' a beat...she thew' up on me!
Lawd have mercy...
Momma asked Auntee where she got the
tuna and she told momma that she got it from a half eaten can way
in the back of the Frigidaire.
Well, Momma got to hollerin' and
carryin' on cause that open can of tuna had been sittin' in the
icebox since Miss Francine's crippled albino son's funeral three
months ago (he had a cleft pallet and only 2 out of 10 fingers but
he could play the hell of a harmonica)!
Anyway, long story short, I got
ptomaine poisoning behind that foolishness. I was laid up for I'd
say bout a good part of a week.
Lil' Miss Nodee used to have a door
to door chittlins' cleaning bidness'. One day she came by to give
us some freshly cleaned chittlins' that somebody had thew' away.
I swear, I looked at her and it was
like watchin' a movie...but it wasn't all that clear! I saw her
die, then I saw a pile of what appeared to be chittlins on the
grass.
I told her what I had seent' and she
just laughed and told me that I must've been drinkin' Daddy's corn
liquor again. Shiiiit, not me. No suh! Not after the whuppin' he gave me
the last time I took a sip.
Yah see, somebody told Daddy that I
drank some of his liquor and he got hog upset behind that.
Daddy asked me why I did it and at
that point I could deny it so, I told him that I over heard Mr.Thorndale say that good liquor
always burns yah chest.
Without missin' a beat, uh huh...
Daddy struck a match and set my
shirt on fire...while I was still wearin' it yall'!
He asked me if my chest was burnin'
and I was hollin' "yeah-yeah it burn it burn!"
Then he said: " Look here lil' mutha'fucka',
next time you wanna
sneak a taste, you betta' set yah- self on fire and leave my
got-damned liquor alone!"
Matta' fact, that was the
worst whuppin' I ever got.
Uh huh, anyway...
I told lil' Miss Nodee that I was
serious and she waived me off and left. No sooner than the screen
doe' slammed, did I hear a rumblin' and a hollerin'.
I runs down stairs and out the front
doe'. Turns out that Lil Miss Nodee got run over by Uncle Nancy's
(he was very sensitive about his name -and rightfully so) tractor.
I looks down and all I saw was
chittlins' everywhere! But it wasn't no chittlins'...it was lil'
Miss Nodee all chopped up to be damned. I aint lyin' neither.
Now every time I eat chittlins' I get
the cravin' for my Auntee Quintella's neck-bone sandwiches. Uh
huh..."
Oh yeah, and ever since then I had
the power to read psychic energy."
After many years of crippling
poverty in Hogmawg, Tennessee, C.B. Walker decided to move to the
Harlem section of New York City where he's been helping millions
of people change their lives ever since.
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