Get ya some.....FISHIN

As the time draws near, storms in the air, the smell of rain, and roadkill getting raunchy, we all know the favorite pastime is doing some fishin. Which, really makes the think, either you fish, or you don't know Jack. No better way to put it, can you bait a hook without making the worm look like it has been beaten by a machete? Alot of other things in life can be related to fishin, if you don't think so, then grab your pole and read on.
First off, relationships. They are alot like fishin, you try to bait them in, get them to bite, reel em in, and then you have to make the determination of, is she a keeper or do I toss her back for some other jerk to wait for and try keeping? That folks, is the hardest determination to make as a redneck eHarmony member. You know, I like long walks on the beach, a good magazine, as long as they are on the naked beach and porn magazine. Why? Cause I'm a guy and that's how I roll.
Kids, you know, curtain climbers, diaper shitters. They are alot like fishing too. Or some parents make them be to me in my world. Sometimes I just want to look the proud mom in the face and say, "keep telling me about your awesome kid, I love a good fishin story." But for some reason, most would not get it. My grandma always had a point, she loved everyone, and nobody was really a "bad" kid, she use to say, "Oh Johnny, I don't know why he has community service, he is such a good kid, bless his heart." But, obviously, I have been a part of a relationship, the tosser back chick, who's parents just thought she was so awesome she had chipped glass slippers she wore out when she was working her corner. Oh, she is so blah blah blah, and if you ever need anything she will be right there. Ya, exactly, an awesome fishing story, cause the bitch was a liar, story teller, and couldn't be trusted any further than you could toss dog puke out the front door. So, as you are going on and on about your perfect kids, remember, everyone LOVES a fishin story, but only when told by a grandpa.
We all sit around in life, usually on our butts and wait for things to happen. Such as a catfish angler, you toss it out and wait, and wait, and wait, and wait some more. By the time we let our guard down, the big one bites and we grab the pole, reel like hell, fight, and work it to get it to shore. But what are we stuck with? A great big smelly piece of meat that will grunt with whiskers, such as the drunk guy at the bar. So, no matter what you do in life, always expect to be the best angler you can, toss when you have the bait fully on the hook, and never leave your guard down, because chances are, there is something bigger and badder than what you think you can handle will yank that sucker out and it will be gone. Gone like an ex wife. On the other hand, if you happen to get a bite, and set the hook and reel it in, don't be silly wrap ole willy or you will be just another parent sitting around telling your own little fishin story.

Redneck Pickup Lines

My top 10 pick up lines for my redneck ways are about as follows.

#10. Can you lick your butt like my dog? Cause I love flexability.

#9. Hey baby, you remind me of my cousin, can I take you home and bang your head on my headboard?

#8. Something as hot as you must have one really hot mom, can we go back to your place?

#7. I wanna take you out to my pick-up, just to count your teeth.

#6. Gosh baby, you have an awesome grill, can I soak my teeth with yours tonight?

#5. You remind me of my cousin, wanna go out?

#4. I wanna take you out co-ed naked coon hunting.

#3. I have some sex toys in the shape of pick-ups, animals, and guns.

#2b. Whats the chances you and I can go get my truck stuck?


#2a. Mind if I borrow your teeth while I hit on your sister?


#1. If your cousin ain't got ya yet, come out side and I'll take your virginity in the back of my truck.

Good ole Walmart

As I’m walking into the ever dreaded place on Earth, aka Walmart, I have come to the conclusion that there are limitations when a person is fixin to buy some flip-flops. Not all easy toe riders can pull off such a drastic shoe. You know, they are the thong for the feet.

If you have a toe that looks like a broken branch hanging from a tree, please don’t think about buying them. I’m talkin, the little toe band to try to make your gnarly feet look sexy, and on the same toe that overhangs off the damn flip flop causing sparks when your walking down the parking lot. You have to understand, we have Hispanics around here that don’t fix their gas leaking cars much, not to even add we have a Polish presents in the area also, and it would take them three times more time to understand there is fixin to be an explosion in the parking lot when they are going inside to buy their beans and shit. You could spark some gas and blow that flip flop and gnarly toe off faster than you could put away a Twinkie.

So, please if your feet look like they got caught in a disposal and you’re wearing flip flops, please reconsider.

And Walmart, WTF is up with this self checkout crap? You have 17 lanes with running electricity, and only 2 are open and then 4 self checkouts are working of the 8 because nobody is smart enough to reset the computer. When ya roll up to one of these pieces of work, just stop and look around and see if you can get into a real talking cashier, not the lady in the elevator whose voice has been put into checkouts. That’s a crock of crap, what’s a guy got to do to do voiceovers?

So, I scroll on to the self checkout, and lone and behold I can switch from 2 languages, well all be damn I say, I’m in the U.S. so my language is ENGLISH and should NOT be a choice. Beings in 13 different countries in my time, and having to know their language first, Spanish can kiss my redneck ass. So, I decide that I am gonna toss my pizza over this radar and pay for my shit and get out. But, that dumb elevator chick said I need to bag my crap. Well, guess what bitch, it is and for some reason you can’t see it. So I hit the button a few times and then all hell breaks loose and the light on the stand flashes, the screen is flipping around like a horror movie, and I’m standing there with the lady wearing a toe ring and flip flops asking me what happen and she’s going to have to swipe her card. This pisses me off, I throw my pizza across the isle, with people ducking like The Rock is swinging a machete, and it lands in a crushed up, wrinkled half broken box. I got so mad I tested my temper, and yep, it still works.

I guess the point to be made is Walmart sucks, and if you do go there and buy some pre-sliced, dented box pizza, I’m the guy to thank. But if you didn’t, don’t be silly wrap ole willy.