Redneck Review

Monday, October 24, 2005

Let's Have a Housewarming Party!

Oh, did I mention I'm moving? Not far. I'm still on Blogger. I just
wanted a fresh start. I don't know why. I've changed templates
a couple times, but it's not the same as A NEW BLOG. I'll leave
my address at the bottom of this post.

Housewarming parties always annoy me. That's why I'm throwing
myself one. Nothing is more redneck than saying, "Hey, y'all, I've
got a new house. Buy me some gifts and I'll let you gave a party
there!" I appreciate the comments from my blogfriends. I will
answer those here now. Why respond in the comments when you
can make a whole post out of it, I always say. Maybe that's why
people look at me funny.

Babs, you are correct. People do come and go here quickly. Like
within 5 seconds. Oh. that's not what you meant? Yes, it does seem
that blogs have a short shelf life. I have worked in schools where
people came and went quickly, too. It usually means there's an
administrative problem. BLOGGER, do you hear me?

Misha, you were indeed one of my firsts. I think I found you on
that "recently updated" blogs thingy, and left you a comment. See,
people, what happens when you are polite? You make a mean
spinach dip, you say? Now you've gone and reminded me of a
dip story. And it was at a housewarming party, no less, with a
new friend who had included me in her social circle.

Long story medium (it's the best I can do), my new friend Karen
took me to a housewarming party at Indian Hills Lake in Cuba,
Missouri. Also along were her friends Wanda and Jim (definitely
not a couple). As the night wore on, maybe some alcohol was
consumed, and maybe someone called the science teacher
into the bathroom to show him her boobs, and maybe someone
ditched our group to pursue a math teacher whom she later married.
Anyhoo, around about midnight, Karen and I ended up at the
kitchen table eating a bowl of dip that Jim had brought. This dip
doesn't sound so good on screen, but it was something like
Braunschweiger mixed with mayonnaise. I know there had
to be more to it, but at the time, it seemed quite delicious. We
dipped crackers into the bowl to scoop it out. Karen and I might
have been double-dipping, because Seinfeld had not yet created
his show, and us rednecks didn't know no better. In comes
Jim, who sits down to gossip with us. Next thing I know, Jim
grabs the bowl of dip, snaps the Tupperware lid in place, burps
it, and says, "That's enough, B****es! This is going to be my
lunch tomorrow." We were incensed! The nerve of that...that...
JIM! Karen and I were best buddies after that bonding experience.
We lived to torment Jim.

Alas, Misha, I doubt there will be pictures of hot country boys
at my new home. Unless you count my Sonic guy. And you know
the saying, "Hotness is in the tastebuds of the free Sonic Cherry
Diet Coke drinker."

Rebecca, yes, I do plan to load everything on a truck and haul
the whole thing across town. My Hillbilly Husband did that with
a shed he built. He had a flatbed car-towing truck to load it with
a winch and drive it to town. Then when we built our house here,
he loaded it up again to bring it back. Excuse me a minute...sluurrp.
Ahhhhhh....Sonic Cherry Diet Coke...sweet, sweet nectar. Now
what was I saying? Oh, yes. We will look like the Beverly Hillbillies
bringing Granny's shack to Beverly Hills.

Mrs. Coach, you certainly may rummage through my stuff. I am
hoping to leave behind one ceramic rooster that my HH picked
up somewhere. I think he had it before we were married. He
would set it on the kitchen windowsill, and I would put it under
the kitchen sink. This went on for a long time, until I let it stay
out for two days in a row. He thought he'd won, and forgot to
check. Forgot until we moved to the new house, 7 years later,
and he said, "Have you seen my chicken?" We had a kid by this
time, and he knew the proper place for a ceramic rooster was
under the kitchen sink. Unfortunately, he didn't know that there
are some secrets we'd like to keep from Daddy. Now it's on
top of my kitchen cabinets with the world's largest Coke bottle
collection. May I offer anyone a beverage?

MamaKBear, I've dropped in on you several times. I'm just
not very talkative when I meet new people. After I get to know
them well, they can't shut me up. I won't go strainin' myself in
the move. That's what you have young'uns for--to do the heavy
liftin' and bring you the remote and the phone.

Mabel, my teaching-buddy-without-a-blog, I'm sorry I slighted
you. Yes, you do exist. I know you're the rightful owner of the
winner's title of the "What do you think it is?" post. But while
you were snoozin', you were losin', and Dave was winning.
You can still comment, you know, even without a blog. It won't
matter anyway, though, because Rebecca's back, and she wins
every contest. Just ask her. Oh, I forgot. You don't have a blog!
OK, now who have I made madder, Mabel or Rebecca?

If you want to start a feud with me, you can find me at my new
home, the Hillbilly Mansion. Y'all come visit, y'hear? If you need
specific directions, it is


  • At 10:26 AM, Blogger coffee and cigarettes said…

    "That's enough, B****es! This is going to be my lunch tomorrow."

    aaaaaaaaaaahahahahaHAHAHAHA *coughs and catches breath* hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

  • At 4:11 PM, Blogger Hillbilly Mom said…

    It was quite funny AFTER that night. But at the time, we were just PISSED. And by pissed, I mean our version of the word: ANGRY! And maybe, just maybe, we were your version of the word, too.


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