Aunt Patti’s Hair Nest & the Twitty Birds

“Many a man’s profanity has saved him from a nervous breakdown. ” ~ Henry S. Haskins

My Aunt Patti was always talking about Loretta Lynn, Johnny Cash and Conway Twitty and his little Twitty-birds.  She always had a cigarette in her hand, and one of her teased-up Loretta Lynn wigs on her head – the kind which resembled some sort of nest-like bird habitat.  Aunt Patti’s hair was pretty much a mystery to me, I never knew what the heck was under there.  I guess Aunt Patti just didn’t want to bother with styling her real hair, since I know now that she really does grow her own.

wig 214x300 Aunt Pattis Hair Nest & the Twitty Birds

A Hot Country Mess

Back in the 70′s my Aunt Patti’s true love  was country and western music — and swearing.  Aunt Patti would swear in everyday conversation;  it just seemed to work for her.  If she saw a cop, she called him a friggin’ flat-footed bastard.  If the car in front of her didn’t step on the gas immediately at a green light, she’d say  “the f*cking light’s not gonna get any greener, ya friggin’ @sshole” and so on. 

(Italian Lesson: to swear like a trooper = bestemmiare come uno scaricatore di porto)

If we were at a restaurant with Aunt Patti, before she could say “pass the mother f*ckin’ mashed”, she would always ask the waitress to being a spoonful of their sauce before ordering any saucy dish.  She’d turn to us and say, “I need taste their f*cking sauce before I order their friggin’ food; I’m not getting screwed with sh!tty friggin’ sauce here”.  Aunt Patti’s colorful raunchiness with the English language always held a high entertainment value, and provided us with something to laugh about the next day.

Now go back to the friggin’ home page:

And be sure to sign up for my damn %$#@*&%’N MADNESS FEED! 

2 Responses to “Aunt Patti’s Hair Nest & the Twitty Birds”

  1. [...] Atlantic City used to be a wholesome family destination where kids could meet and greet Mr. Peanut, munch on popcorn, see creamy delicious chocolate fudge being made (and get a free sample), play games for prizes — like winning a “concussion” goldfish by throwing a ping-pong ball in their little glass home (so it could die of a brain hemorrhage just after you named it)– and even watch full-grown horses jump off a sky-high ladder into a small pool of blue water way down below.  As a kid, I was totally mesmerized by this feat– not today though.  Today, I’d be the one breaking in with a flashlight and a crowbar in the dead of night to free those poor animals.  Horses that probably had to be shot the next day due to a broken leg after this shitty trick.  I won’t get started on the shittiness of it all, instead I’ll let my mind settle in, and be happy with my memories of the Steel Pier, the performing horses, and the delicious Italian meals of various pastas, veal and chicken parmesan dinners with my parents at Patrina’s – an authentic dining spot for guineas, old and young.  And, as my Aunt Patti would say  ”they cooked up some good fuckin’ sauce!” (more about Aunt Patti here: [...]

  2. [...] (as noted in the post “Aunt Patti’s Hair Nest and the Twitty Birds”, here: and she told me that my beloved and utterly sweet 92 year old grandmother - whom I call [...]

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