About Me

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I'm an artist, an educator, Pastafarian and I write. I also will gamble on just about anything. And I like unusual juxtaposition, but I love my wife...and beer. This blog is observations from a funny old man who gets pissed off every once in a while. Oh, and I mispell alot.

Monday, October 24, 2016


And today I really, really mean that mature content thing.

This is the third in a series of posts to help explain the American South to stupid people, and if you are interested, here are the links to the others:



Most Southerners are convinced that the movie Joe Dirt is a documentary about one of their cousins...any of their cousins.

He more or less nailed how we think and act.
Don't believe me? Here is an actual news story...I swear.

And here's what he looks like....used to look like...

And that shit is true, y'all.
Our body art says it all...

The South is like a million degrees hotter than the rest of the country....on average.
We've all seen shit like this, even up north...

But that one was in the air conditioned wing joint during my wedding. My wife blamed the heat from my erection. Even the pastor thought it impressive.

Because of the heat we spend a lot of money to replace products most areas of the country don't have to replace often...or ever.

And this is not at all a rare event down here.

Stand too long on asphalt and you will stick to it.

And extreme heat requires extreme measures.

And that's ain't even his truck.

You may have seen a Southerner dig around in the box for a lower bag of ice. This is why.

This happens so often that we have learned to never take the top bag with the brown smudges.

In northern churches they baptize like this...

Yep, just a few drops of water on the head and that's it. Here in the heat of hell that is the South, we said, "Fuck that shit" and invented our own cooler way to do it...

Most, if not all of us have an Uncle in the earth moving business, and each summer he comes in handy I'm here to tell you.

And that's just another reason our insurance rates are sky high.
The upside of the heat is that we get away with wearing fewer and fewer clothes...

Which means fewer loads of clothes to wash...and buy.

Here's my sister at the family reunion.

Did you notice that uncut underarm muff? That's a real turn-on for any Southern guy.
And, of course, with fewer and fewer clothes comes...fuckin'...which we will discuss in depth later on.


Being poor motivates us to improvise creative angling techniques devoid of fancy, expensive equipment.

This man got a large fishhook stuck in his toe - of all places, and his friend, being armed as all true Southerners are, aids in its removal.

Guns are frequently used to propel a water craft despite the number of watercraft destroyed using the technique.

This man is doing two of Southerner's favorite things.

Urinating in a pool and being adequately armed.

But defying all logic, we hate cold weather. Here we see my cousin, Allnormal, displaying his loathing of the ice on his pond.

We really, really, really love our guns down here.

They even made a cartoon about us...

And down here, there ain't no such thing as too many guns...

This is the creed of every old Southern...

Southern lottery winners or some other such rich shits even invent games to play with loaded weapons.

This woman shows her love of her imported weapon...
And her inbred dog...and her love of her new indoor plumbing.

And I will leave this unusual clip without comment...

And firearms really come in handy when that ugly daughter of yours gets knocked up by some out of town guy...

It's a known fact that Southerners sit a lot.

I think the stifling heat stifles all inclinations of exertion. But irrationally, it is a known fact that if we aren't sitting, we are dancing.

Southerners are bred to dance. It's in our genes.

We will dance anywhere, anytime with or without alcohol...

You should never underestimate the amount of alcohol we drink down here. And it's almost impossible to overestimate the amount.

We measure the amount of fun we have on a given outing by the number of stitches required.
We measure the success of the party by the dumpsters we fill.

And no matter how you feel about drinking, you gotta admit drunk people make the cutest videos.

We Southerners don't really like to read all that much. The upside is that we solve problems without a whit of knowledge about how other people solved the same problem.
Take my Aunt Margaret's solution to an unexpected shower.

She will be sorely missed. She grew the best weed in Clarenton County...at least that's what the sheriff, my uncle, wrote in her obituary.

And my Uncle Ed's hot tub...

He got married in that thing. His wife was so fat that when she got in the water in the commode overflowed.
This next one is a little subtle, I admit, but look closely....ingenious...

Get too fat for your overalls? Down here that ain't no problem...

My brother built this beauty when he was on his first parole at age 14.

And it's still running six paroles later.

And you can see clever solutions like this all over the South.

We actually have people stop their cars and photograph our home improvements.

With an utter lack of book learning comes unique conflict resolutions that no yankee would ever think of.

Some of us do take up normal manly hobbies...
But those don't usually last beyond the first trip to the emergency room.

And we call this a "trifecta" in the sport of "knock the bitch in the ditch"...

If you do it right she won't even know it was being scored by the camera person. We call that a perfect ten.
Speaking of ditches...

We got A LOT of ditches down here.

Here's another made up sport that didn't turn out quite like we figured...

Organized sports ain't real popular down here.
Since ain't nobody read all the rules.

We're good with trinket making, though...

I know the concept may seem strange to non-Southerners, but it never even occurred to my other Uncle Deficit Folsom that this would be considered odd behavior any where outside the pyche ward.

He yanked out his own teeth with a pair of Craftsmen needle-nosed pliers one Christmas Eve just so he could improve his presentation. He's a hoot at karaoke night at the 76 station out on Route 36.

And mostly people of the world over would consider getting blind drunk on your roof a stupid idea.

Not in the South. And notice that he has pre-positioned the crutch for the inevitable fall that happens ever Friday night. His own brother died of a broken neck trying to drag his drunk ass down from there only three months prior, but that don't stop O.Lee; him being stubborn, like most Southerners.

If you pay good money to the van airbrush guy to paint shit like this on you overalls, then you KNOW you are a true patriot.

Of course ain't none of those guys passed the test to get in the military.
But still we are all big on flags. We will cut up dozens of flags to make any article of clothing you can imagine.

And when you combine our love of not shaving, our patriotism and the van airbrush guy...well, a legion is born!

I'm not sure the rest of the world can understand the intensity of the love Southerners have for breakfast.

I like to get up, eat so much breakfast that I get sleepy, then immediately go back to bed. In the South that is called a win-win.

And we love our Ma and Pa like family.

And those same parents taught us not to go fucking our brothers in the ass where anybody could see us. And that shit stuck!

But our girls don't have dicks, so the rules with them were mirky at best. Here's my sister and her "groom" right before their "wedding."

And I'm here to tell you, the home movies of their wedding night were a hoot. 
Have you ever seen: 1) a fat girl do what they call the "scissors?", and 2) a dildo shaped like a big ass human arm? And she seemed to LIKE IT!

And their reception that followed was to die for...

They spared no expense. Even the cigarettes and Busch Beer were provided.
But most people brought their own hard liquor.

Including the bride.

We like our proms...kind of like a rite of passage.

Hell, anybody can get laid on prom night. Most of us more than once.

We love it when somebody gets a job. They are always real popular with the ladies until the day they go to work drunk for the 34th time, then he will have to pay for pussy just like the rest of us.

(you might want to grab a beer...it gets pretty fucking funny from here on)

You may wonder just how it is that Southern men know so much about pleasing women. Well, we credit Sex Ed, or Rooting Done Right, as we called it. It is our most favorite class from kindergarten to 15 or 16th grade.
This is my teacher. She told us her name was Virginia. We called her Virgin for short, but not for long.
On a field trip I learned what a well lit female anus looked like up close and without hay stuck all over it.

I also found out where my sister got all that extra spending money. She turns tricks on weekends...and I get a family discount.

PE even had what they called "cross discipline educational enrichment."

"Ram It So Far Up Her Ass That You Gag Her" was always a crowd pleaser.

This is my cousin's science project. He aced it.

But he is the only person in my family that wasn't dropped on his head...not even once. 

They even taught how to have sex in an automobile, which came in real handy I'm here to tell you.

And I guess this is as good a time as any to bring this up, but this is pretty much the rule down here.

Not saying there's anything wrong with that.

My mom was Classroom Mother in Miss Virginia's sex-ed class. Here she volunteered to demonstrate the trimming of the twat, and enjoyed every minute of it...apparently.
Of course the Sex Ed homework with our sisters at night sometimes puts them off their game for a few months.
It is impossible to talk about Southern Sexuality without at least mentioning incest and the subsequent inbreeding.
Yes, we have been known to fuck our own sisters...it's a known fact. But in our own defense, have you ever seen our sisters? I mean damn! 
At the first sign of incestuous baby making, we all compare our own deformities.

But little Holyfuckingshit Wilson always wins first place.

His eyes were so far apart he couldn't even get glasses that fit.

This more or less nails our whole incest thing.

But now even the internet knows our pain.

Entered. Get it?

Here's me and my sister at the Billy Graham tent revival...

Family reunions in the South are a hoot. Sometimes we have four or five a year.
The young people get to invent their own games.

And as always happens at our reunions, somebody brings their tattoo gun. Here my mom uses his skills to impress my dad later on.

All the Grandmas try to out freak one another when it comes to tattoos.

At least she didn't let the cat out again.
Here's my favorite, on my Great Grandma Flo's ass.

Finally a clip that features our love of water, the oppressive heat, our love of guns AND alcohol!!

I hope you enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed making it.


Scott James said...

On point! One of your best.

Ralph Henry said...

I really did have a lot of fun making it...long time in coming.

Ralph Henry said...

My wife said it was insulting, or some such shit.

Scott James said...

I turned a guy in the UK on to your blog. The tutorial was his first exposure.

He'll be back I'm sure.

Your blog fit the stereotype.

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