Redneck Review

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Is That a Panther?

 panther. Just our black cat, Stockings, who has
never forgiven us for referring to him as "she" until we took her to
be spayed, and the vet said, " you mind if we neuter this one
stead of spay him?" OK, so I'm not good at sexing cats. Wouldn't
you be more worried if I was? I'm not as bad as my friend Mabel,
who still calls her cat, Lovey, "she", even though she knows he is a
boy. And I didn't name this cat "Stockings," either. #1 son did that.
It's the name of Bill Clinton's cat, isn't it? That's OK. I have no
problem with my man Bill.

The point of this picture is that our Hillbilly Fishpond has some major
design flaws, and I'm all about pointing out the flaws if they're not mine.
Aside from the brackish green/brown water, we have the fake turtle,
fake owl, fake sunflower, fake bunny, and large seashell. I approve of
the river rock, and the big flat rocks that my Hillbilly Husband and #1
son hauled from the creek in numerous trips. I am neutral on the plants.
I just do not agree with HH's mixing of the fake species. There are too
many in such a small space.

But the real point is that I do not always agree with my HH. I have read
several blogs where the husband and wife never fight! Where is this
strange land? I know, maybe they don't want to show their bad sides
on the blog. It just seems unreal.

Don't these men leave their skidmarked underwear on the floor? Don't
they leave a melted drop of ice cream on the counter every night after
the woman has cleaned up? Don't they find her chocolate Easter bunny
in the fridge in June and help themselves? Don't they make a scene about
babysitting their own kids? Not that my HH does any of these, mind you.
It is information I have gathered over the years.

And what about her? Doesn't she nag him to take out the trash? Harp
at him to put in a lightbulb higher than 40 watts? Demand that he stay
out of strip clubs? Snore like a freight train until he wants to put a pillow
over her face?

I find it hard to believe that any marriage can be as perfect as some of
these I read about in Blogland. Why, Mother Teresa herself would've
liked to kick her husband to the curb every once in a while. Maybe that
is not a good example, what with Mother Teresa being a nun and all,
and not having a husband, unless you count God, which we certainly
must count God, and even though I am not a religious person, I think it
would be a serious relationship faux pas to kick God to the curb,
because that is kind of disrespectful, and you never know when that
lightning bolt just might shoot down out of the sky to make you mind
your manners.

Now don't go getting paranoid if you're on my blogroll and think this
is about you. I know some of you have issues every now and then,
because you share it with us. And that is much more refreshing than
sweeping it under the rug (how come the woman has to do the sweeping,
huh?) and more entertaining for me to read. Which is a must, because
this IS all about ME, you know. I think I might have mentioned that just
one time.

I don't get along with HH all the time. But I know how to pick my battles.
So he can decorate that Hillbilly Fishpond any old way he wants, and he
can leave the fake Christmas tree in a box by the pool table all year. But
when I think something is important, you can bet that I'll come out the winner.


  • At 5:54 PM, Blogger MamaKBear said…

    Hiya! I certainly wonder where these ppl are that "never fight" myself. I'll be the first to tell you my marriage is far from perfect, but it works for us.

    I had to laugh at the reference to skidmarked underwear on the floor..I can SO relate to that one! Every time I find a pair, I'm reminded of Bill Engvall and his "Oh my GOD!! Did you hit a deer?!?" comment some wives out there must make. LOL

    Came across your lil space in blogland from Diva's...I sure enjoy reading what you have to say! I started my own blog for my first time ever a few days ago, c'mon over and check me out sometime. :)

  • At 6:01 PM, Blogger Misha said…

    It's funny, I thought my black kitten was a girl for so long until the first vet check-up which confirmed 'she' was a 'he'. I was crushed, and it took me a while to adapt to the situation. In the end though I didn't mind, tom cats are so affectionate.

    I like the fish pond by the way. It has a number of different things to it but they all seem to fit together nicely. Especially the plants - c'mon they're alright :)

  • At 8:19 PM, Blogger Stacie said…

    I think you just described my marriage. All except for the skidmarked underwear, since I can't get my redneck husband to even WEAR underwear. I don't even want to think about where those skidmarks end up now.

  • At 8:26 PM, Blogger Laura said…

    Hi! Thanks for stopping by my sight!

    Your cat looks like mine (with the exception of his feet! I often call him a panther too!

    I dont know of any couples who dont fight...Me and Deb yell and scream with the best of them! (I think Its my Italian temper! lol)However, we do TRY to be kind to each other out in blogland....

    have a great weekend!

  • At 9:34 AM, Blogger Redneck Diva said…

    If I'm not mistaken, I do believe the Clinton pussy is Socks, not Stockings. Or maybe they just call her Hillary, I dunno.

    ANNNNNNNNNNNNNNywho... that was lame and I apologize for that.

    MamaKBear's comment about Engvall's wife asking if he hit a deer was what I was going to say! I swear there are times I wonder just what scared the man enough to make him do that in his underwear. I seriously wonder if they even stock the bathroom at work with toilet paper, but you can bet I'm going to ask his boss (a woman). Surely she'll put this situation right. She has a husband, she has to know what they're capable of.

    Great post, HM!! The paragraph about Mother Teresa kickin' God to the curb made me spit sweet tea all over the keyboard again. You've got to stop that! Okay, don't. I'll just buy a new keyboard.

  • At 12:54 PM, Blogger Hillbilly Mom said…

    I agree, there must be something very frightening out there, what with all the women I hear talk about this little problem.

    One of my teacher friends tried to explain how to find out the cat's sex. Like I should have had a clue already, you know. But we still couldn't tell. HH poked and probed, and the boys peered at it, but we couldn't tell. It's a wonder any of us hillbillies can reproduce.

    Eeeewwww! That's too disturbing! A true horror story for Halloween! You win the contest, girl!

    See there, I knew it! Couples fight! Thanks for the validation.

    It reminds me of a while back, on one of those kid-raising shows on TLC, there was this pediatrician named T. Berry Brazelton. It would show a kid having a tantrum, and smacking his mom, and her wringing her hands and not knowing what to do. The Doc would say, "Look at the PASSION! Such strong feelings between the two of you." Makes you wonder with couples, if there's no passion for fighting, is it there for the good part of coupledom?

    I think it's just laziness. I'm surprised we don't have to tell them to breathe in, breathe out.

    I'm glad you share my warped sense of humor. Speaking of...have you been gathering 55-gallon barrels to scare your mama for Halloween?

  • At 4:02 PM, Blogger Redneck Diva said…

    Roger that, Hillbilly Mom. Operation Scare MamaDiva is a go. I repeat: It. Is. A. Go.


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