5 Reasons You Can Get Pumped About Being a Redneck (Part I)

As I have explained before, rednecks are probably the worst sub-culture on our planet. I do tend fight my heritage frequently and try to pretend that I’m not a closet redneck. But as complicated as my city life gets, the more I think…maybe they have it all right?

Once I began contemplating it, I realized that there were some things to get excited about. It allowed me to become comfortable with this terrifying concept. I’m going to give you 5 reasons that you can get a little pumped about being a redneck. This post was to be 10 reasons but I broke it into parts because I’m a lazy whore who is trying to up my posting frequency, so shut your hole. So here’s my personal reasons for getting pumped…

5. Sweet Tea: Like I need to explain? But there’s something about that syrupy nectar that makes my mouth water and my teeth rot. That beautiful amber color, topped off with a juicy lemon just screams “OH MY GOD PUT ME INSIDE YOU!” Since I left the country, I can only drink it half sweetened, but I still crave the shit out of it. That’s probably because it comes straight from the tit the second you’re born. It’s a scientific fact.

4. 4-Wheelers: Spending 8 hours on one of these is the best therapy for a terrible week. Feeling your mullet flop around in the breeze and the mosquito guts splatter on your visor makes you forget all about that child support and nagging meth addict ex-wife! Catching some sweet air while scaring all the wildlife is just as good as a day at the spa ladies. Plus your crotch gets a good workout, and ever since finishing those Danielle Steele books, you know you’ve needed it.

3. Poor people know how to have cheap ass fun: You ever party with rednecks? They can shoot a rifle at beer cans for two hours, listen to Hank Williams Jr., and get drunk in their $29 Wal-Mart pool. You can spend hours with rednecks and no one ever goes “Like we should totally go downtown to Mirage and like, have some cocktails you guys!” (Because I only hang with vapid tanorexic bitches obviously) Hell no… they’re broke. After getting enough Skoal for the week, buying some gas for their massive truck they don’t use to haul anything, and spending their last twenty bucks on a sack of weed, all they want to do is make some noise.  This equals free entertainment! You don’t know good times until you watch my sister make up her own lyrics to Toby Keith on her karaoke machine that doesn’t work because it was rained on. And she doesn’t even drink!

2. Vanity doesn’t exist where I come from: My sister never wears a bra. A lot of folks don’t have all their teeth when they smile. And a majority of people are fat asses. This leaves a significant chance that you’ll like someone just for who they are. And best of all, when you do have all your teeth, wear a bra, and dress unlike a hobo, you’re a hot piece of ass. You’re triple hot if you don’t have a baby that you’re breastfeeding in public. You’re sure to get invited to a Travis Tritt concert or to a pig pickin’.

1. Rednecks are content with a simple life: I don’t ever hear rednecks stressing over money. Shit, they’re so used to not having any, it barely crosses their mind to worry about it. They are happy with a car that (barely) runs, a six-pack, and a warm place to sleep-bonus if it’s not with their wives! There’s no obsessing for the newest iPhone, or pining for top-notch sushi and there’s something to envy there. I’m always thinking and trying to accomplish something that allows me to go somewhere in life. Rednecks are just hopeful they’ll have beer money for when the race comes on. It’s not that serious to them. As long as Earnhardt wins and they fall asleep drunk, it’s all uphill from here Bo.

Tune in next week when I continue this topic and reveal 5 more reasons why you can allow yourself to get a little pumped about being a redneck. And below, I have drawn a diagram on what’s happening as we speak in Lancaster, South Carolina.

5reasons to be pumped

  • Ginny says:

    Well, holy redneck girl. I want royalties for this shit!! LMAO! Love it..bring on more!

  • Jay says:

    Our giant truck (and you are correct, there always seems to be one)was a 1979 suburban with the top in back cut off. The gas gauge didn’t work so it was always exciting to go on the once every three month trip to the dump with 100 bags of trash and 6 or 7 children in the back. Who says we didn’t haul anything?!!
    Great story. Can’t wait for part two!

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