What It Is

Jeff Foxworthy defines "redneck" as "a complete lack of sophistication. Maybe not all the time, but I guarantee that at some time in your life, you have been a redneck."

Some of us more than others.

Being a redneck does not always mean doing dumbass stunts, and doing dumbass stunts does not make you a redneck, but hey, it's pretty unsophisticated when you use upended two-by-fours as jackstands for your truck and don't stop to worry about the possible consequences. Being a redneck doesn't mean you're poor, nor do you need to be trailer trash. But if you grew up in a single-wide practicing your baseball pitches with rocks on your dad's empties, you might be a redneck.

Not every redneck drinks. But a lot of us do. Not because we're alcoholics, but because it's social. We're not all stupid, nor are we all Southern. We do, however, do what it takes to get it done (whatever that is) and don't give a rat's ass about what you think of how we did it.

This is for those of you who need new ideas on how to solve your problems the redneck way.

This is for those of you who are wondering if you might be a redneck.

This is to share your daily redneck moments, no matter who you are. I know high-class, college-educated people who have a redneck moment almost every few weeks and aren't scared to admit it. I also know a four-year-old who wolfs down Thanksgiving dinner so he can go "Blow shit up" out back with his daddy.

Redneck Woman

Contact

The author of this blog can be reached at Dwyer43@msn.com on a daily basis. Send me a note that you dropped by, and definitely leave comments, opinions, questions, suggestions. You didn't like it? Tell me that, too. Want me to add a new page funtionality? Lemme know. Comprende?

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The reason MTV still exists -- and he still rocks


Friday, February 29, 2008

U-Hauls, muscle cars, stump rot, and cooking

I'm not really sure when this turned into The Weekly Redneck Digest of Meat, Fire, Motorcycles, and Women, but it has. And I'm okay with that. I kind of like not touching my computer for a week.

So first, a story. Get used to it, I tell a lot of stories. Yesterday at the light rail Park&Ride I saw a U-Haul. Yes, a big ass van, which you can now rent for $20 a day. This made me wonder, why would anyone rent a U-Haul and then take the train to get someplace? They're obviously not moving. Then it hit me. You get headroom, space for passengers and stuff, lots of power, and it's in good condition (generally). If you get in a car wreck and have to rent without a reservation, you can only get a compact car for that price. How shameless do you have to be to rent a U-Haul as a daily driver while the shop fixes up your ride? Well, it takes a lot of nerve. I like the idea. I don't like having to ride around in an underpowered Japanese econobox, hitting my head on the rear window (all 5'4" of me) when someone else is in shotgun. That's when I miss my full-size ride, even with it's little gremlins. Those gremlins don't whack you in the head and cramp your legs. If you rent a U-Haul as a daily driver when you're not moving, you're redneck. Face it, buddy. You ought to be on a Budweiser Real Men of Genius ad. High-five.

Another story. I still have an original Xbox. I still use it. I just found my favorite game, Sega GT 2002. It had fallen behind the TV. So you ain't going to see much of my ass for a while. Send me a suggestion or comment and I'll get back to you, but only after I'm done dragging my 427, 814 horse blown '70 Chevelle. If they had Xbox live for this, I wouldn't even be going to class. Or work. You'd have to roll a grenade under my chair to get me out of there.

So I listed fire in my new description of my blog. Why? I love fire. I love watching fire. I love improving fire. I love cooking with fire. I ran into some of my old friends last weekend, and guess what we did? Yep, fire. They like to take Purell, spread it on newspaper, light it, and then scatter powder such as non-dairy creamer into the fire (like a grain-dust explosion). Not being the criminal sort, they do this on their own property on concrete. But, see, I knew we could do better. Bigger, longer-lasting fire can be achieved with rubbing alcohol. You can burn more stuff, hotter, with stump rot. Oxidizers are fun. Colors can get involved with barium, for example. You can blow things up with just rubbing alcohol. We like blowing things up, but we'll do that later. Turning a soda bottle into a gumball cannon, though, was pretty badass. We had fun with that. That's just our competitive nature: take something cool that they've done and do it better. They're probably working on something cooler right now. I'm okay with that.

So, women. One of my favorite subjects. This is going to have to be a separate post-- I've got a lot to say, but I can't think of any of it.

Motorcycles: For a few years now I've been telling my dad to excavate his crap out of the garage so we can get his motorcycles running again. Given that he's finally started listening to me about "we are going to get at least one of them restored and running before I turn 16," that looks like that could actually happen. Whoo. Classic Massachusetts iron. I also am in the market for a used dirtbike. Just FYI, if anyone happens to have one laying around in the Denver area.

Meat: I feel guilty that my friend has decided to blog about fish (God knows why), has nothing fish-related to talk about, and I know more than I should about fish. I know more than I should about a lot of things. So, here we are. One way to fish in shallow, narrow streams is to spot your dinner, sneak downstream of it, and build a rock dam all the way across the water flow. All the way. If the fish can get out downstream, you're going to be going hungry, so get it right. No need to stop the water, just make sure there are no fish-sized holes. Now, grab a big stick and sneak up (really quiet) behind the fish. Make sure your shadow never goes over or in front of it. Now, whack. Yes, whack the fish. Get it out of the water as quick as possible, too. Once you've got ahold of it and have it on shore, no need to be cruel, put the injured soon-to-be dinner down and clobber his head with a rock. No pain, instant death. Anything over three inches should be gutted. Cook and enjoy (or eat raw--I reccommend cooked). When you're done, don't be an asshole, dismantle the dam. Chuck Norris will come find you otherwise. Now copy-paste, I insist.

Also, more useless fish knowledge: Some salt-water fish are poisonous, but all freshwater fish are edible.

More food: Yes, I'm writing while hungry, can't you tell? In consideration of my readers who stick to a more suburban diet, I promise I won't discuss how tasty pigeon is, or how to cook snake, not in this post. Anyway, I've noticed that when I'm only getting food for myself, I'm a very simple person. If I want beans and ham, I'll open a can of Busch's Maple-Bacon Baked Beans (put 'em on top of your head and your tounge will beat your brains out trying to get to it), open a package of sliced ham, put the ham in the can, turn on the stove (or light a fire), and cook them both at once. Then I'll eat out of the can. But when I'm cooking for other people, I get fancy. I can get real fancy. When I make hamburgers and take them in my lunch, I literally have to fight people off, it looks and smells that good. When we have company I'll cook anything that we have on hand to order. I know a lot of recipes that are just "yeah, that looks about right", but folks love when I'm the grillmaster at the 4th of July barbeque. Seriously, come over sometime and I'll make you apple pie over a wood fire and you will want seconds.

When I'm on my own, if I want mushrooms I'll grab some mushrooms out the fridge, add butter and microwave. If I'm making mushrooms for you, you're getting sautee'd mushrooms in a freakin' root beer-pineapple glaze and carmelized apricots. I can't help it. I don't know where I got this tendency from. it's freaking me out.