One man's view of the world, from the top of this great big rock somewhere in the middle of God's Country, with an eye toward freedom....or at least some way to get back down without goin' over the edge.

My Photo
Location: West Virginia, United States

Former U.S. Army, SPC E-4, Veteran of Operation Desert Storm. If you are or have ever been a soldier, you have friends in my house.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Points of Interest: Hillbilly Edition

In honor of my newfound brothers and sisters of the blog, here's a few generous dollops of what a funny man once called "a glorious absence of sophistication".

Y'all know what I'm talkin' about. Kick y'shoes off, grab a jug of Friday night's best, and let the hootenanny begin.


The Contrary Goddess, a long-haired honey of a homesteader from Tennessee, waxes philosophical on self-righteousness and destiny, celebrates her two-year blogoversary in a big way, pigs out on snap peas, 25 bales of hay, and a cute little kitty-cat or two (and NO, you in the back---yes, YOU---she's not actually eating the hay, OR the cats...sheesh, ya try to crack a joke these days...), and generally presents us with her own style of homegrown livin'. Pleased to meetcha, ma'am.

The proprietor of American and Proud Of It goes by the name of Bushwack, hails from sunny California (see, folks? We're EVERYWHERE!! MUAHHH-ha-ha-ha-haaa!!....*ahem*...sorry, don't know where that came from), and is currently toasting the birth of the Redneck Mafia, giving us a much-needed primer on the qualities of effective leadership, and showing us an example of what can happen when cowards try to bully the wrong man into silence. (Remember the guy that started that whole "" brouhaha a while ago? He's BAAAAaaack!)

The Dowager Viscountess of White Trash Republican comes to us from straight outta the Ozarks, where the spam is "non-Hinduized" (whatever the hell THAT means), the bogus banking business is booming (literally), the local specialty comes in more flavors than a bag of Jolly Ranchers (who knew you could bottle apple pies?), and even the department-store dummies are dangerous. (Just back away slowly from the display, and don't show any fear. They can sense fear, you know.)

Say a big ol' "Howdy" to Catfish and the crew at the Texican Tattler, a heat-packin' periodical from the Lone Star state. This week's issue bemoans this year's catastrophic hurricane season (just ask Al Gore, he'll tell ya), wonders why everyone's so scared of one little old guy from Conetic...Conniti...some little thumbnail state out east, and shows off some pretty fancy shootin', Waco-style.

And, of course, the last whistle-stop on our tour of hillbilly heaven has got to be The Cook Shack--Gab & Grub in upstate New York. Our host here is Cookie, a man with a big appetite for debate, de-food, and de-beauties. Sit yerself down and rest a spell, while he serves up a heapin' helpin' of "hold yer horses" to those of us, myself included, a little too eager to throw Mr. Just-might-not-be-the-right-man-after-all behind bars (and if a former homicide investigator isn't qualified to discuss this, NONE of us are), free beer for the guys in the sailor suits (now THAT'S what I call "catch-and-release"), and a collection of yum-tastic down-home recipes for all you cook-book conny-sewers out there.

You have your orders. Stander out.