Friday, February 25, 2011

Welcome To Marshall's Hillbilly Holler In The Piney Woods

My neighbors are messy. They are ablutophobic. Won't wash themselves or their dogs. They suffer from aboiement, barking and meowing on their front porch late into the night. Their gene pool suffers acrocephalia so bad they can't wear baseball caps that advertise tractor equipment, which they'd sorely love to do since it is the family ambition to one day spawn a child who can get all the way through the high school 4H Program.

Who knows how many of their kin live there? Sometimes there are eight or nine cars parked for weeks on what used to be the grass. A guy who lives in the front end of a horse trailer sometimes parks on the side of the house. The lovely aroma of horse manure wafts through the whole neighborhood during his two or three week visits.

The womenfolk of the clan seem not to be bothered by their aerocolpos, tootin' around in the front yard chasing innumerable naked toddlers like farmers rounding up chickens. From the looks of their stained daisy dukes (fat women should be legally disenfranchised from wearing high cut-off shorts), both the women and men enjoy chronic alacuoth.

These are just the 'A's folks, I could REALLY tear into my hillbilly neighbors with the C words.

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