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?

Allright folks, just click to say you visited.

The reason MTV still exists -- and he still rocks


Don't forget my politics and off-topic blog.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Tips for salesmen

Funny story. Don't be this tool. Seriously.

A few weeks ago we had just pulled into the driveway and gotten out, when a door-to-soor salesman walked up to us. Of all the rotten timing, we manage to get home just as this guy's walking through the corner of our lawn, now making a beeline for the car. Too late, he's spotted us. We can't just throw it in reverse and gun it. Remove your hand from the gearshift please.

I figure we'll let him say his piece and scurry off, since that's usually the fastest way to get rid of a salesman, short of acting like you're not home, or audibly cocking a gun.

"Have you ever considered vinyl siding?"
My mom says, "No, we don't want any."
"You never have to paint it, it's weatherproof, and affordable."
"I really don't think we're interested."

This guy just wasn't getting the hint. Then he said it. "It's available in a variety of colors. It'd be real easy to cover up some of this ugly brick."

The whole neighborhood is brick ranch houses. No siding to be found. This tool just didn't get it that he might be barking up the wrong tree. There's a reason we live in a brick house. Mom's approach wasn't working. My turn to talk.

"I don't know who you think you are, but let me give you a word of advice. Don't go callin' my house ugly and expect me to want anything from you except to leave. Now get out of my driveway. And stay off my grass while you do it."

He didn't want to leave, but this time he got the hint. I don't think he ever called someone's house ugly again. At least not that day.
at No comments:
Labels: , ,
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)