It’s very rare anyone in my family buys new shit, and it’s for a good reason. My mother goes through washers and dryers like Honey Boo-Boo’s mom goes through Doritos, all because she is such a laundry-retarded hillbilly.  She actually washes rugs in the washer and other things you probably shouldn’t wash and we suspect she still does despite us having an intervention with her. So it’s no surprise that when they do purchase something new, it’s like the day they christened the Titanic leaving the pier. It’s a celebration to have nice shit, so we bust out some glitter confetti and some Boonesfarm $2.99 wine in red solo cups.

Well my sister got fancy, and bought a washer and dryer combo (Gasp! They matched) brand new a little over a year ago. She worked two jobs, probably won a few midget tossing tournaments, and some how scraped up the funds to buy this expensive set to wash the bras she never actually wears.

A couple of weeks ago, the new-ish washer quit working. So she calls the Whirlpool call center only to be told her warranty ended after [...]

I’d like to think that I am the authority on all matters white trash. I have a PH.D. in abandoned toilets, potted meat, and the Grand Ole Opry. But all of this useless knowledge didn’t just come to me overnight guys. It took a dysfunctional set of mentors to sculpt my knowledge and show me the ways of my people. And believe it or not, I am more hillbilly then red neck. “There’s a difference?” I can hear you asking, and yes there is.  Let me explain to you the difference in our peoples, and you will be able to identify our tribes in the wild.

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Rednecks like Nascar and believe wrestling is fake.

Hillbillies like Wrestling and don’t like Nascar. Also, wrestling is real, the Hulkster told them so.

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Rednecks use snuff. Preferably “Grizzly” brand. You can identify a true redneck by the perfect circle indented in his denim pocket from his Grizzly canister.

Hillbillies chew tobacco. My diddy was a Chattanooga chew man, spitting that shit (mixed with his gargantuan hockers) all in the 6 cups on his dashboard. He even tried to pay me to sneak in [...]

~Disclaimer: I love my mom. But now that I’ve verified that…~

I want to write a blog about my mother since I haven’t ripped on her ass for a while, and she’s in such southern Baptist denial about this blog existing, she doesn’t dare look for it. That would mean she’d have to acknowledge how ridiculously trashy and dysfunctional our family is and and this is the same woman who panicked and hid when I got my first period.

My mom embarrasses me, immensely. She has acquired the nickname between my siblings and my friends as Grabby McGrabberson, and boy is it accurate. Once a friend of mine brought my sister some pajama pants for her birthday, and my mom made such a big deal over how she wanted those pajama pants, my friend pulled another pair out of her trunk she was saving for another gift just to shut mom up.

My mom will run into my friends at Goodwill, and she will “jokingly” ask said friend to buy her whatever shit she’s walking around with, like 99 cents pair of socks or a $1.29 kitchen utensil.  But it’s not a joke, she really thinks everyone has it better than her, [...]