Redneck Monday - Pick-Up Lines

Redneck Pick-Up Lines:

1) Did you fart? Cuz you blew me away.

2) Are yer parents retarded? Cuz ya sure are special.

3) My Love fer you is like diarrhea. I can't hold it in.

4) Do you have a library card? Cuz I'd like to sign you out.

5) Is there a mirror in yer pants? Cuz I can see myself in em.

6) If you was a tree and I were a Squirrel, I' d store my nuts in yer hole.

7) You might not be the best lookin girl here, but beauty's only a light switch away.

8) Man - "Fat Penguin!"
Woman - "WHAT?"
Man - "I just wanted to say something that would break the ice."

9) I know I'm not no Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make yer bed-rock.

10) I can't find my puppy, can you help me find him? I think he went inta this cheap motel room.

11) Yer eyes are as blue as window cleaner.

12) If yer gunna regret this in the mornin, we kin sleep till afternoon.

13) Yer face reminds me of a wrench, every time I think of it my nuts tighten up.

14) Your eyes are as pretty as two hen turds in a bowl of clabber.

15) Darlin', your ears are a cut as mud-flaps on a gopher’s ass.

Now I know you ladies are swooning already, but pull yourself together. I wasn’t applying my Southern Redneck charm directly at you. I was just giving you an example of what to expect when you meet some of us good ole boys. When you do, THEN you can let the ‘panty puddin’ begin.
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Old Salts of the Navy...

(The painting is of my ship, USS Frank E. Evans DD754, heading to her last assignment - and death)

For years I have been trying to come up with the words that explains my experience in the Navy. Then, today, I get this email from my friend and former shipmate, Chuck. This is so dead on that I had to post it. I also found a passage from Psalms in the bible that adds somehting to this post. It is at the bottom.

Old Salts of The Navy. . . . . . . .

I liked standing on the bridge wing at sunrise with salt spray in my face and clean ocean winds whipping in from the four quarters of the globe - the ship beneath me feeling like a living thing as her engines drove her swiftly through the sea.

I liked the sounds of the Navy - the piercing trill of the boatswains pipe, the syncopated clangor of the ship's bell on the quarterdeck, the harsh squawk of the 1MC, and the strong language and laughter of sailors at work. I liked Navy vessels - nervous darting destroyers, plodding fleet auxiliaries and amphibs, sleek submarines and steady solid aircraft carriers.

I liked the proud names of Navy ships: Midway, Lexington, Saratoga, Coral Sea, Antietam , Valley Forge - memorials of great battles won and tribulations overcome. I liked the lean angular names of Navy "tin-cans" and "escorts" - Barney, Dahlgren, Mullinix, McCloy, Damato, Leftwich, Mills, Vance, Evans and the Manley - mementos of heroes who went before us. And the others - San Jose, San Diego, Atlanta, Los Angeles, St. Paul, Chicago - named for our cities.

I liked the tempo of a Navy band blaring through the topside speakers as we pulled away from the oiler after refueling at sea. I liked liberty call and the spicy scent of a foreign port. I even liked the never-ending paperwork and all-hands working parties as my ship filled herself with the multitude of supplies, both mundane and to cut ties to the land and carry out her mission anywhere on the globe where there was water to float her.

I liked sailors, officers and enlisted men from all parts of the land; farms of the Midwest, small towns of New England, from the cities, the mountains and the prairies, from all walks of life. I trusted and depended on them as they trusted and depended on me - for professional competence, for comradeship, for strength and courage. In a word, they were "shipmates"; then and forever.

I liked the surge of adventure in my heart, when the word was passed: "Now set the special sea and anchor detail - all hands to quarters for leaving port," and I liked the infectious thrill of sighting home again, with the waving hands of welcome from family and friends waiting pier side. The work was hard and dangerous; the going rough at times; the parting from loved ones painful, but the companionship of robust Navy laughter, the "all for one and one for all" philosophy of the sea was ever present.

I liked the serenity of the sea after a day of hard ship's work, as flying fish flitted across the wave tops and sunset gave way to night. I liked the feel of the Navy in darkness - the masthead and range lights, the red and green navigation lights and stern light, the pulsating phosphorescence of radar repeaters - they cut through the dusk and joined with the mirror of stars overhead.

I liked drifting off to sleep lulled by the myriad noises large and small that told me that my ship was alive and well, and that my shipmates on watch would keep me safe. I liked quiet mid-watches with the aroma of strong coffee - the life-blood of the Navy - permeating everywhere.

I liked hectic watches when the exacting minuet of haze-gray shapes racing at flank speed kept all hands on a razor edge of alertness. I liked the sudden electricity of "General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations," followed by the hurried clamor of running feet on ladders and the resounding thump of water-tight doors as the ship transformed herself in a few brief seconds from a peaceful workplace to a weapon of war - ready for anything. And I liked the sight of space-age equipment manned by youngsters clad in dungarees and sound-powered phones that their grandfathers would still recognize.

I liked the traditions of the Navy and the men and women who made them. I liked the proud names of Navy heroes: Halsey, Nimitz, Perry, Farragut, John Paul Jones and Burke. A sailor could find much in the Navy: comrades-in-arms, pride in self and country, mastery of the seaman's trade. An adolescent could find adulthood.

In years to come, when sailors are home from the sea they will still remember with fondness and respect the ocean in all its moods - the impossible shimmering mirror calm and the storm-tossed green water surging over the bow. And then there will come again a faint whiff of stack gas, a faint echo of engine and rudder orders, a vision of the bright bunting of signal flags snapping at the yardarm, a refrain of hearty laughter in the wardroom and chief's quarters and mess decks.

Gone ashore for good they will grow wistful about their Navy days, when the seas belonged to them and a new port of call was ever over the horizon. Remembering this, they will stand taller and say, "I WAS A SAILOR ONCE AND WOULD DO IT AGAIN."

Psalms 107:23-30
"Those who go down to the sea in ships, who do business on great waters, they see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. For He commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves of the sea. They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths; their soul melts because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end. Then they cry out to the Lord in their trouble, and He brings them out of their distresses. He calms the storm, so that its waves are still. Then they are glad because they are quiet; so He guides them to their desired haven."

Detroit Kindergarten Kid

A teacher in a Detroit kindergarten class asked the kids what kind of sound a pig makes...


Little Tyrone stood up and yelled:

"FREEZE, MUTHAFUCKA!"

I guess there aren't many farms in Detroit...

Weekend Humor

From A Marine Wife...

I sat, as did millions of other Americans, and watched as the government under went a peaceful transition of power a few months ago. At first, I felt a swell of pride and patriotism while Barack Obama took his Oath of Office.



However, all that pride quickly vanished as I later watched 21 Marines, in full dress uniform with rifles, fire a 21-gun salute to the President.



It was then that I realized just how far America 's military had deteriorated.

Every damn one of them missed the bastard.
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Miniature Railway Exhibit

Now is this cool or what?

They should open one like this in America.

A Veterans Letter To The ObamaLama

In honor of Dec. 7th, I am posting this copy of a letter I received from my friend and buddy, Clew of BluesClews who also takes care a some guys in uniform and is truly all heart.

This venerable and much honored WW II vet is well known in Hawaii for his seventy-plus years of service to patriotic organizations and causes all over the country. A humble man WITHOUT a political bone in his body, he has NEVER spoken out before about a government official, until now. He dictated this letter to a friend, signed it and mailed it to the president.

Dear President Obama,

My name is Harold Estes, approaching 95 on December 13 of this year. People meeting me for the first time don't believe my age because I remain wrinkle free and pretty much mentally alert. I enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1934 and served proudly before, during and after WW II retiring as a Master Chief Bos'n Mate. Now I live in a "rest home" located on the western end of Pearl Harbor , allowing me to keep alive the memories of 23 years of service to my country.. One of the benefits of my age, perhaps the only one, is to speak my mind, blunt and direct even to the head man.

So here goes.

I am amazed, angry and determined not to see my country die before I do, but you seem hell bent not to grant me that wish. I can't figure out what country you are the president of.

You fly around the world telling our friends and enemies despicable lies like: "We're no longer a Christian nation", " America is arrogant" - (Your wife even announced to the world, "America is mean-spirited." Please tell her to try preaching that nonsense to 23 generations of our war dead buried all over the globe who died for no other reason than to free a whole lot of strangers from tyranny and hopelessness.) I'd say shame on the both of you, but I don't think you like America, nor do I see an ounce of gratefulness in anything you do, for the obvious gifts this country has given you. To be without shame or gratefulness is a dangerous thing for a man sitting in the White House.

After 9/11 you said," America hasn't lived up to her ideals." Which ones did you mean? Was it the notion of personal liberty that 11,000 farmers and shopkeepers died for to win independence from the British? Or maybe the ideal that no man should be a slave to another man, that 500,000 men died for in the Civil War? I hope you didn't mean the ideal 470,000 fathers, brothers, husbands, and a lot of fellas I knew personally died for in WWII, because we felt real strongly about not letting any nation push us around, because we stand for freedom. I don't think you mean the ideal that says equality is better than discrimination. You know the one that a whole lot of white people understood when they helped to get you elected.

Take a little advice from a very old geezer, young man. Shape up and start acting like an American. If you don't, I'll do what I can to see you get shipped out of that fancy rental on Pennsylvania Avenue . You were elected to lead not to bow, apologize and kiss the hands of murderers and corrupt leaders who still treat their people like slaves.

And just who do you think you are telling the American people not to jump to conclusions and condemn that Muslim major who killed 13 of his fellow soldiers and wounded dozens more.

You mean you don't want us to do what you did when that white cop used force to subdue that black college professor in Massachusetts , who was putting up a fight? You don't mind offending the police calling them stupid but you don't want us to offend Muslim fanatics by calling them what they are, terrorists.

One more thing. I realize you never served in the military and never had to defend your country with your life, but you're the Commander-in-Chief now, son. Do your job. When your battle-hardened field General asks you for 40,000 more troops to complete the mission, give them to him. But if you're not in this fight to win, then get out. The life of one American soldier is not worth the best political strategy you're thinking of.

You could be our greatest president because you face the greatest challenge ever presented to any president. You're not going to restore American greatness by bringing back our bloated economy. That's not our greatest threat. Losing the heart and soul of who we are as Americans is our big fight now. And I sure as hell don't want to think my president is the enemy in this final battle.

Sincerely,
Harold B. Estes

A Little Know Fact...

A LITTLE KNOWN FACT THAT SAYS A GREAT DEAL...

The first testicular guard "Cup" was used in ice hockey in 1874, and the first helmet was used in 1974.

It took 100 years for men to realize that THE BRAIN is also important.
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Memo To The Grim Reaper

Dear Mr. Grim Reaper:

So far this year you have taken away my favorite entertainer (Michael Jackson,) my favorite actor and dancer (Patrick Swayze,) and my favorite actress (Farrah Fawcett.)

Just so you know; my favorite politician is Barack Obama.

Thank you,

Coffeypot

Redneck Monday

Two Post! One late yesterday and this one. Enjoy both!

THE DIFFEREENCES BETWEEN THE NORTH AND THE SOUTH

The North has Bloomingdale's, the South has Dollar General.

The North has Coffee Houses, the South has Waffle Houses.

The North has dating services, the South has family reunions.

The North has switchblade knives; the South has Lee Press-on Nails.

The North has double last names; the South has double first names.

The North has Indy car races; the South has stock car races.

The North has Cream of Wheat, the South has grits.

The North has green salads, the South has collard greens.

The North has lobsters, the South has crawfish.

The North has the Rust Belt, the South has the Bible Belt.

and

FOR NORTHERNERS MOVING SOUTH. . .

In the South: --If you run your car into a ditch, don't panic. Four men in a four-wheel drive pickup truck with a tow chain will be along shortly. Don't try to help them, just stay out of their way. This is what they live for.

Don't be surprised to find movie rentals and bait in the same store.... do not buy food at this store.

Remember, "Y'all" is singular, "all y'all" is plural, and 'all y'all's' is plural possessive.

Get used to hearing 'You ain't from round here, are ya?'

Save all manner of bacon grease. You will be instructed later on how to use it.

Don't be worried at not understanding what people are saying. They can't understand you either.

The first Southern statement to creep into a transplanted Northerner's vocabulary is the adjective "big ol'," as in big ol' truck or big ol' boy. Most Northerners begin their Southern-influenced dialect this way. All of them are in denial about it.

The proper pronunciation you learned in school is no longer proper

Be advised that "He needed killin' " is a valid defense here.

If you hear a Southerner exclaim, "Hey, y'all watch this shit," you should stay out of the way. These are likely to be the last words he'll ever say

If there is the prediction of the slightest chance of even the smallest accumulation of snow, your presence is required at the local grocery store. It doesn't matter whether you need anything or not. You just have to go there..

Do not be surprised to find that 10-year olds own their own shotguns, they are proficient marksmen, and their mammas taught them how to aim.

In the South, we have found that the best way to grow a lush green lawn is to pour gravel on it and call it a driveway.

AND REMEMBER:
If you do settle in the South and bear children, don't think we will accept them as Southerners. After all, jus' 'cause the cat had kittens in the oven, don't mean we're gonna call 'em biscuits.

The Second Day Is Over

Today was the second day of my Pet Smart Santa stint. It has been a little slow, but busy. Also Judy and the grandkids came to help out. They walk the dogs that are up for adoption, help clean the puppy cages and help with the photo process.

Those of you who know me and/or have followed me these few years know that I don’t talk about myself in any positive way what so ever. But the store managers have been coming back and telling me the customers are complimenting me on being such a great Santa. Even my step-daughter, who doesn’t care too much for the human race, tells everyone that I am ‘a kick ass’ Santa. That makes me wonder what kind of Santa’s they have had before…work-release felons from the Federal Pen, ex-druggies from a half-way house, Democrats? I mean it is such an easy and fun job. I get to pet and love on some of the cutest animals in Georgia. What’s not to like? Well, there are the owners…

I ask that, while waiting on a set of pictures to process from one dog that the next owners bring their dog (or dogs) over so they can get a good sniff of my hand and get use to a man with more hair on his face than the have. That pretty much goes okay. But some will try to put the dog in my lap or get it to pose before the photographer is ready. Dogs have an attention span almost as short as mine and you cannot pose them and expect them to hold it for a minuet or two. I tell them as nicely as I can to just walk away from the dog and let us get to know each other first.

Then when the photographer is ready I have them place the dog in my lap, or the front paws across my lap, or have it set between my legs, etc. I ask them to do it because if I try the dog can panic. But the feel more comortable it the owner does it. And I ask that they back the dog into my lap. Having his face coming toward the big red asshole can upset them. Anyway, they insist on giving baby talk and smooche kisses and pep talks to a fucking dog. Then I tell the owner to go stand BEHIND THE FUCKING PHOTOGRAPHER so the dog will look in that direction. Don’t stand on the side and give encouraging phrases so the dog looks over that way instead.

And the Christmas clothes they put on the dogs. Now look, the coat, sweater, wrap, what-ever is on his BACK and you want the dog looking at the camera AND see his back? The Exorcist comes to mind. And there was the one little old lady who had a small female dog. I had to hold the little thing with my left hand under her chest in a sorta raised up sitting position. She ask me to put my right hand over the little dog’s hind legs to ‘hide her private parts.’ Lady, the fucking dog is sitting on her private parts. All you will see is belly. But I did so she wouldn’t be scandalized.

And the cheapskates. Our store, as far as I know, is the only store in the country that has a well trained photographer who has thousands of dollars worth of camera, lights, filters and printers for the endeavor and he volunteers his serviced for free, as all of us do. The cost is $9.95 for a picture and a plastic frame. And he takes several shots and lets the customer pick out the one he/she likes best. And people will ask for better shots. We are not professionals, and it is a fucking dog. Get a grip people. We have had people walk off and not pay because they didn’t like the picture of a dog that was constantly moving and scared shitless with it’s ears pulled back, and one even left because I wasn’t looking at the camera to his satisfaction. It’s not about me, asshat, it’s about your precious dog. But, hey, 99% of the people are great and most of the dogs are very behaved, thought a little nervous.

Here are a few pics of the folks today:

The back left is the manager, Bill. The lady in front is Dawn, a volunteer, and Rick, my photographer.


This is Dr. Amber, my step-daughter.


And this is J-Man and Bug, my grandkids.

However, everything did not go smoothly all day. Judy and I have a few angry words between photo shoots. It seems that some young couple who adopted one cat a few months ago had to turn him back in because they were moving into a pet free apartment. He is a chocolate cat and is totally lovable and easy going.

His name was Jude and he was one of several kittens we fostered for a few weeks till they could be adopted. Judy fell in love with him then, but I wouldn’t let her get another cat. I mean we have the best cat in the world in Chaplin, so what do we need with an inferior specimen? But Amber said we could have it for free since he had already been adopted and the cost was covered. No fucking way will we have another cat in our home. I was firm and no way was that cat coming home with us. Period! Ever! I have spoken!

So meet the newest member to our family, the cat formarly named Jude. We changed the name (or rather Bug did) to Oliver. So Oliver is now Chaplin’s best friend - or will be as soon as the get tired of hissing at each other.




I love it when I am forceful and rule the roost with an iron hand; firm but compassionate.

Too Much To Do - Dammit

Today is the start of a busy week, if not month, for me. It started out Wednesday shopping for my milsupport dudes.

They are getting a little more than usual this time because, well, it’s Christmas. It is also winter over there and they are, to say the least, cold. So along with the peanuts, cereal, beef jerky, power bars, candy and magazines (sorry guys, no Playboys or Penthouses) and books, I have enclosed hand, body and foot warmers to help them out on their trips outside the wire and standing those long, boring watches.


I was up to 3:00 a.m. packing boxes to send to my dudes overseas in The Suck.


Today I loaded them up to take to the Post Office. Of course all 10,000 people in my little town had to mail packages today, too. So I was in line about an hour. Happy fucking me. My luck…only old, ugly women and one fat man to talk too, so I read my book while in line.

It had to be done today if I wanted to guarantee delivery by Christmas. However, if they are late, it’s a good thing, too. My friend Hope told me that there is always the after holiday letdown and packages arriving after Christmas is a sure pick-me-up. So what ever happens, it will be a good thing.


After the post office, I made my daily trip to the Waffle House for…uh…Brunch. (I have lost the picture of my WH - sorry.)

I then went to Great Clips for my haircut.

But I didn’t just get a hair cut this time.


I got it buzzed.

Why, you may ask (or you may not even give a shit, I don’t know, but I have to type something to say abut these pictures) why I scrape off all the snow from the roof?

It’s because of this:

For the past four years I have been the resident Santa for the Pet Smart in Duluth, where my step-daughter, Dr. Amber, sets up each weekend for pet adoptions.

These are two of my dogs; the white one is Brea, a 120 lb Grand Pyrenees and the chocolate Lab is Gabby.


These are the other two dogs we adopted, the red one is Nancy (a boy dog becasue the dumb asses who dropped him off couldn't tell a 'red rocket coming out of the silo' from a split under the tail) and Jo Jo (a female).


This is how I want to spend my Santa stint:

But NNOOOOO! It has to be with animals.

On top of that I will be leaving on the 8th for my NY transport trip. So now you know why I am so full of the fucking holiday spirit. If I see that fat man flying over my house, I will be target practicing with my shotgun. Fucker!

So I'll still be around, but it will probably be just lurking.

Southerners Can Be So Polite…

You gotta love this one even if you've never lived in the South. Some of you will enjoy this more than others..

ATLANTA AIRPORT CONTROL TOWER -

Atlanta ATC: "Tower to Saudi Air 511 -- You are cleared to land eastbound on runway 9R

Saudi Air: "Thank you Atlanta ATC. Acknowledge cleared to land on Infidel's runway 9R - Allah be Praised."

Atlanta ATC: “Roger Saudia Air 511.”

Atlanta ATC: "Tower to Iran Air 711 --You are cleared to land westbound on runway 9R."

Iran Air: "Thank you Atlanta ATC. We are cleared to land on Infidel's runway 9R. - Allah is Great."

Pause...

Saudi Air: " ATLANTA ATC - ATLANTA ATC"

Atlanta ATC: "Go ahead Saudi Air 511.."

Saudi Air: "YOU HAVE CLEARED BOTH OUR AIRCRAFTS FOR THE SAME RUNWAY GOING IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS. WE ARE ON A COLLISION COURSE.. INSTRUCTIONS, PLEASE."

Atlanta ATC: "Well bless your hearts. And praise Jesus. Ya'll be careful now, ya hear? Oh! And tell Allah "hey" for us --"

Life Thoughts by Ducky

LIFE THOUGHTS BY DUCKY
(Not to be confused with the Duckalicious herself)


I saw a woman wearing a sweat shirt with 'Guess' on it.
So I said 'Implants?' She hit me.

How come we choose from just two people to run for president and over fifty for Miss America ?

Now that food has replaced sex in my life, I can't even get into my own pants.

I signed up for an exercise class and was told to wear loose fitting clothing.
If I HAD any loose fitting clothing, I wouldn't have signed up in the first place!

When I was young we used to go 'skinny dipping,' now I just 'chunky dunk.'

Don't argue with an idiot; people watching may not be able to tell the difference.

Wouldn't it be nice if whenever we messed up our life we could simply press 'Ctrl Alt Delete' and start all over?

Why is it that our children can't read a Bible in school, but they can in prison?

Wouldn't you know it....Brain cells come and brain cells go, but FAT cells live forever.

Bumper sticker of the year:
'If you can read this, thank a teacher -and, since it's in English, thank a soldier'

And remember: life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes.

Tiger Woods - You Know It Had To Start

Tiger Woods is so rich that he owns lots of expensive cars. Now he has a hole in one.

What's the difference between a car and a golf ball? Tiger can drive a ball 400 yards.

Tiger Woods wasn't seriously injured in the crash, but he's still below par.

What were Tiger Woods and his wife doing out at 2.30 in the morning? They went clubbing

Tiger Woods crashed into a fire hydrant and a tree. He couldn't decide between a wood and an iron.

Ping just offered Elin Woods an endorsement contract pushing her own set of drivers. They named them Elin Woods..."clubs you can beat Tiger with."

Tiger just changed his nickname but still kept it in the cat family--his new name?: Cheetah

Since Tiger drives an Escalade, can he blame the accident on his caddy?

Chinese are already making a movie about Tiger Woods' crash. They are calling it, " Scratching Swede, Lying Tiger."

Thank You Rep. McCotter

I saw this over at Kanani's place, The Kitchen Dispatch, and wanted you to see it, too.

We need to see more things like this, and pass it along if you can.

Thank you Rep. McCotter.

Humor to follow later...

Car vs Motorcycle - Not So Good

***WARNING - NOT FOR THE SQUIMISH***

Sometimes even cops are stupid (and NO this IS NOT CI Roller Dude - he turned down cycle patrol, I believe.)

Waiting a few seconds for the traffic to clear and for the truck to pass before trying to put up a road block would be prudent - or wait for a fucking POLICE CAR to do it for you.

I just hope this dumb ass survived this incident.

Importance of Walking

Walking 20 minutes can add to your life.
This enables you at 85 years old to spend an additional 5 months in a nursing
home at $7000 per month.

My grandpa started walking five miles a day when he was 60.
Now he's 97 years old and we don't know where he is.

I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.

The only reason I would take up walking is so that I could hear heavy breathing again.

I have to walk early in the morning, before my brain figures out what I'm doing...

I joined a health club last year, spent about 400 bucks.
Haven't lost a pound.
Apparently you have to go there occasionally.

Every time I hear the dirty word 'exercise', I wash my mouth out with chocolate.

I do have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them.

The advantage of exercising every day is so when you die, they'll say, 'Well, he looks good doesn't he?'

If you are going to try cross-country skiing, start with a small country.

I know I got a lot of exercise the last few years...just getting over the hill.

We all get heavier as we get older, because there's a lot more information in our heads. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Every time I start thinking too much about how I look, I just find a Happy Hour and by the time I leave, I look just fine.

Have A Smile On Me - And Laura

If Achmed didn't make you crack a smile, maybe this one, thanks to my pal Laura, will put a smile on your face. It did mine.


Well???
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Achmed Sings Christmas

I stole this from KY Woman. I had to do it. It is so beautiful it will bring tears to you eyes. And it come from the heart of Achmed the Terrorist.



See what I mean? Beautiful! Go Troops!