Every culture has their parties. Christians (and those that like gifts) have Christmas. Drunks have St. Patrick’s Day. Even the Middle East has parties with Ramadan…or so I’m told. But rednecks just have to adopt holidays usually reserved for the military in Memorial Day, Veteran’s Day (which should really be in the prime summer months as its damn hard to grill out in November), and most importantly the 4th of July.
Urban folks go out, get drunk, and–hopefully–laid on New Year’s Eve. On that night, rednecks mostly stay at home and polish our gun collections for the coming apocalypse. But we do go out on the 4th of July seeing as how that’s safely in the middle of the year and Jesus wouldn’t end the world in the summertime. So count us in for the three B’s: booze, barbecue, and blow…ing things up. Now I take you inside a traditional redneck 4th of July.
8:00 A.M.: Wake up, wonder why I’m awake, and go back to sleep.
8:15: That’s right, I’m up for 4th of July. I have to get to the fireworks trailer to buy my fireworks, which any self respecting redneck would have done on Valentine’s Day, but I won’t tell my friends I forgot.
8:20: Never too early to start drinking. I drink a morning beer…then a mid-morning beer as the afternoon draws nearer at 8:22.
8:40: A traditional redneck breakfast of beer-battered pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits, jelly biscuits, beer-battered bacon, actual beer, a television on ESPN, a “newspaper” to read (Guns & Ammo magazine), experimental beer-battered eggs, a “Guns & Ammo Magazine” to read (Maxim), orange juice spiked with Jack Daniels, and a “Maxim” to read (an off brand porn magazine, lest you get the liberal politics of Playboy or Hustler).
8:55: Toilet
9:45: Still toilet…maybe it was the second pack of sausage.
10:00: Rev up the truck.
10:30: After the truck has idled down it’s time to carefully ease out of the driveway, then haul ass down the street squealing tires to wake up everyone. People sure seem to love that my truck has no muffler.
10:45: Shoot someone the bird for no reason as I pass them on a twisty one-lane road. Then I slow down dramatically once in front of them.
11:00: Park three turn lanes down from the fireworks trailer of my choosing as there will be no way to park closer.
11:30: After a brisk walk, I’m at the fireworks trailer and it’s time to start elbowing my way into that gunpowder packed aluminum death trap. I can hardly breathe and I’ll have to pay a hundred bucks for 15 minutes worth of fireworks but it’s worth it.
12:30 PM: I’m back at home now and have begun to get ready for the barbecue/grilling excursion near some body of water you can put a boat on. People will call it a “Lake” but it might be a pond, small stream, or swimming pool.
2: Drink a beer.
2:15: Drink another beer.
2:30: Drink another beer.
2:45: Drink another beer.
3:00: Rev up my truck.
4:00: I’m at someone’s house I don’t like but they’re the only ones with access to a body of water…or a boat.
5:00: After a few more beers it’s time to take the boat out on the lake. They spend a few more minutes revving it before hauling ass over the water, almost running over a few families trying to swim in it.
5:15: Swimming sounds pretty good as the water is appropriately filthy. I jump in after several friends do.
5:50: We return to dry land where the deer meat sandwiches and ribs are almost ready. The potato salad and baked beans have been ready.
5:55: We have eaten almost everything. Man that was delicious.
6:00: It’s now time to quit fucking around and get serious about getting drunk. The party’s bimbo pulls out the liquor. I don’t like tequila or vodka, but of course I drink it anyway.
8:00: After getting appropriately smashed, it’s now time to light the fireworks.
8:20: The ambulance arrives to pick up Ronnie. We are told the majority of his hand is salvageable.
8:25: Another beer, then finishing the fireworks.
9:00: I’m driving my truck to a different party at my friend’s house. He says there are hot chicks there. He says there are two of them.
9:30: After revving my truck in his driveway several times, he is aware I’m there. I go inside his trailer to discover he wasn’t lying. He has a girlfriend that is only addicted to oxycotin and not crystal meth. She has brought a friend that only has two kids, and she’s all mine.
10:15: In the quiet of the trailer, it’s time for Bubba to make his move.
10:30: I am making sweet love to the sounds of “The Best of Ronnie Milsap” while the TV is on a DVD of a Larry the Cable Guy Special. Every time the audience laughs, I take it as encouragement.
11:15: I’m back in my truck driving home while enjoying a beer. I make sure to avoid all check points (fucking police, such party poppers, why can’t they just pull over immigrants?) while going through the take-home plate of leftover ribs from the first party. This is a pretty good fourth.
Hilarious
so now we know
So funny. And being from the south…….truth is there.