I might be a Redneck

[Purple Haze]

You can pick your friends...

 

[Dixon Carter Lee]

Now what the hack is a Revenooer?

An agent from the Internal Revenue Service. They used to (and probably still have to) go out into the hills looking for people and get them to pay their taxes.

 

[sunstruck]

Wow, and I thought census takers had it rough. I wonder how many catch buck shot in the ass every year.

 

[lovetoread]

An agent from the Internal Revenue Service. They used to (and probably still have to) go out into the hills looking for people and get them to pay their taxes.

First sign of being a redneck...knowing that answer.

 

[Dixon Carter Lee]

What, didn't anybody here ever read "Snuffy Smith" comic strips?

 

[Purple Haze]

My relatives just silently follow the shade around the house with their lawnchairs, they don't reply much. Imagine the scene in Fargo with the two old guys discussing the front that's coming in,

hits it right on da nail don'tcha know...

 

[brokenbrainwave]

Take out the bank and thats my hometown to a tee. Sometimes I miss the quaint safe quiet haven known as Sale Creek. Yes thats the name, as dumb as it may be it got that moniker from a gentleman named Patterson whom sailed down the creek and sold trinkets to the natives whom once roamed the land. My entire family is still in that area, and will be buried there.

 

[lovetoread]

What, didn't anybody here ever read "Snuffy Smith" comic strips?

Actually I remember it. Vaguely though.

Didnt he have kids and everything in this comic strip?

 

[Dixon Carter Lee]

I don't remember. Aside from Doonsebury I haven't read the comics in years.

 

[brokenbrainwave]

Actually I remember it. Vaguely though.

Didnt he have kids and everything in this comic strip?

yep, there is Tater the baby and Jughaid, the nephew him and Weezy are raisin.

 

[sunstruck]

Wow, this thread maked me feel like such a city slicker. Thank god.

 

[Calamity Jane]

I'm typing this from a tiny Southern town in South Carolina. There's one bank, a post office, and a shack with white bread they call a convenience store. Farmers grow soy Beans, corn, and cotton (which is picked, by hand, by black men and women). I went to sleep last night to the sound of a billion crickets, frogs, and a few dozen mooing cows. Up the road a piece you can find good Barbeque and rice, fireworks and propane (in the same store), and you can get cigaretts cheap, even if you're twelve.

It's strange here. People treat their dogs like wild animals, letting them live outside, roaming, picking up ticks, and getting hit by cars. Their sense of humor is completely free of irony and smarm, and they're all Baptists who believe Evolution is evil. So you can just imagine how fucking well I'm getting on.


Still, it's beautiful here. The woods are thick, the fields are lush, the air is sweet, and the river is black and still, and I'll take all that over the sunbaked urban blight of Los Angeles.

With a few changes... It's Missouri... we grow soy beans, corn and tobacco (which is planted and picked by hand, mostly by Mexican men and women)... we fall asleep to cicadas, frogs and coyotes... the propane shop sells fertilizer, not fireworks, and there's no convenience store. Everything else... dead on with where I live now.

 

[Hot4Heels]

Wow Civilization!!

We have a Voluteer Fire Department and a water tower.

Ohh and tons of those Primitive Southern Baptists.