Monday, July 23, 2007

Ain't no redneck like a Georgia redneck, or, the beer can doesn't fall far from the six-pack

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  1. Erm...... what?

    You feeling well today WS? what happened to the thoughtful side of you?

    Oh well, your blog, your prerogative.

    Until next time.

  2. is this a slur against masonry?
    when will you stop portraying masons in this light?

  3. No picture, no commentary, just this one statement?!

    Perhaps this post was interupted abruptly?

    Br. Arthur Peterson

  4. It appears the other commenters cannot divine the subtle esotericism of this post. We will leave them to discover it on their own in the fullness of time.

    In the meanwhile, I have to say that looks fun! Being from LA, I am sick to death of raw cuisine and yoga. Bring on the mud pits and funnel cakes!

    Namaste, Bubba.

  5. Thank you for this illuminating documentary on an oft blighted American subculture.

    Once you see past the elongated vowels, the truncated vocabulary, and all the grits-reinforced man-boobs, you'll see that Rednecks are clearly as sophisticated and culturlly sensitive as any . . . uh . . . ah crap. What a bunch of mudpit wrestlin', Pabst swillin, toothless degenerates.

    Thank god I'm from Alabama.


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