As he relaxed, he watch a couple of men working along the roadside. One man would dig a hole two or three feet deep and then move on. The other man came along behind him by about 25 feet and filled in the hole.

The men worked right past the fellow with the soft drink and went on down the road.

Overcome by curiosity, the fellow headed for the first man. "Hey there," he said to the men. "Can you tell me what's going on here with this digging?"

"We work for the county government, " one of the men said.

"But one of you is digging a hole and the other is filling it up. Isn't that a waste of the county's money?"

"Well," one of the men replied, "normally there's three of us

me, Rodney, and Mike. I dig the hole, Rodney sticks in the tree, and Mike here puts the dirt back."

"Yeah," Mike added. "Just because Rodney's sick, that don't mean we can't work, does it?"

The father and son were strolling around while the wife shopped. They were amazed by almost everything they saw, but especially by two shiny, silver walls that could move apart and then slide back together again.

The boy asked, "Paw, What's 'at?"

The father (never having seen an elevator) responded, "Son, I dunno. I ain't never seen anything like that in my entire life, I ain't got no idea'r what it is."

While the boy and his father were watching with amazement, a fat old lady in a wheel chair rolled up to the moving walls and pressed a button. The walls opened and the lady rolled between them into a small room. The walls closed and the boy and his father watched the small circular numbers above the walls light up sequentially. They continued

to watch until it reached the last number and then the numbers began to light in the reverse order. Then the walls opened up again and a gorgeous, voluptuous 24-year-old blonde woman stepped out.

The father, not taking his eyes off the young woman, said quietly to his Son, "Boy, go git yo Momma.... "

Hello, is this the FBI?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

"I'm calling to report about my neighbor Billy Bob Smith! He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood."

"Thank you very much for the call, sir." The next day, the FBI agents descend on Billy Bob's house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They swore at Billy Bob and left.

The phone rings at Billy Bob's house. "Hey, Billy Bob! Did the FBI come?"

"Yeah!"

"Did they chop your firewood?"

" Yep ."

Happy Birthday, Buddy"

• You take your dog for a walk and you both use the same tree.
• Your property has been mistaken for a recycling center.
• Your boat has not left the driveway in 15 years.
• You burn your yard rather than mow it.
• You think the Nutcracker is something you did off the high dive.
• The Salvation Army declines your mattress.
• Your entire family sat around waiting for a call from the governor to spare a loved one.
• You offer to give someone the shirt off your back and they don't want it.
• You have the local taxidermist on speed dial.
• You come back from the dump with more than you took.
• You keep a can of Raid on the kitchen table.
• Your wife can climb a tree faster than your cat.
• Your grandmother has "Ammo" on her Christmas list.
• You've been kicked out of the zoo for heckling the monkeys.
• You think a subdivision is part of a math problem.
• You've bathed with flea and tick soap.
• You've been involved in a custody fight over a hunting dog.
• Your kids take a siphon hose to show and tell.
• You think a hot tub is a stolen indoor plumbing fixture.
• You took a fishing pole to Sea World.
• You go to the stock car races and don't need a program.
• You know how many bales of hay your car will hold.
• You have a rag for a gas cap.
• You've hit on somebody in a VD clinic.
• Your father executes the "Pull my finger" trick during Christmas dinner.
• You had romantic thoughts when you heard sheep bleat.
• Your house doesn't have curtains but your truck does.
• You wonder how service stations keep their restrooms so clean.
• You can spit without opening your mouth.
• You consider your license plate personalized because your father made it.
• Your lifetime goal is to own a fireworks stand.
• You sit on your roof at Christmas time hoping to fill your deer quota.
• Your richest relative buys a new house and calls you up to help him take the wheels off.
• You have a complete set of salad bowls and they all say Cool Whip on the side.
• The biggest city you've ever been to is Walmart.
• Your working TV sits on top of your non-working TV.
• You thought the Unibomber was a wrestler.
• You've ever used your ironing board as a buffet table.
• You think a quarter horse is that ride in front of K-Mart.
• Your neighbors think you're a detective because a cop always brings you home.
• A tornado hits your neighborhood and does a $100,000 worth of improvement.
• You've used a toilet brush as a back scratcher.
• You've asked the preacher "How's it hangin'?"
• You missed 5th grade graduation because you had jury duty.
• You think fast food is hitting a deer at 65mph.
• Somebody tells you that you've got something in your teeth and you take them out to see what it is.
• You've ever stared at a can of orange juice because it said concentrate.

• Don't order filet mignon or pasta primavera at Waffle House. It's just a diner. They serve breakfast 24 hours a day. Let them cook something they know. If you confuse them, they'll woop you.
• Don't laugh at our Southern names (Merleen, Bodie, Ovine, Luther Ray, Tammy Lynn, Darla Beth, Inez, Billy Joe, Billy Bob, Joe Bob, Sissy, Clovis, etc.). Or we will just HAVE to woop you.
• Don't order a bottle of pop or a can of soda down here. Down here it's called Coke. Nobody gives a flying damn whether it's Pepsi, RC, Dr. Pepper, 7-Up or whatever -- it's still a Coke. Accept it. Doing otherwise can lead to an wooping - and often does.
• We know our heritage. Most of us are more literate than you (e.g.,Welty, Williams, Faulkner). We are also better educated and generally a lot nicer. Don't refer to any group of us as a "bunch of hillbillies", or we'll woop you. And you may be happy that we kicked you ass when you think about the movie Deliverance, remember?
• We have plenty of business sense (e.g., Fed Ex, Turner Broadcasting, MCI-WorldCom, MTV, Netscape, Walmart). Naturally, we do, sometimes, have small lapses in judgment (e.g., Edwards, Duke, Clinton). We don't care if you think we are dumb because we know you are dumb. Just remember, we are not dumb enough to let someone move to our state in order to take our seat in the Senate. If someone tried to do that, we would woop them.
• Don't laugh at our Civil War monuments. If Lee had listened to Longstreet and flanked Meade at Gettysburg instead of sending Pickett up the middle, you'd be paying taxes to Richmond instead of Washington. If you visit Stone Mountain and complain about the carving, we'll have no other option but to woop you.
• We are fully aware of how high the humidity is; we are not dumb; see #5 above. Therefore, shut the hell up. Just spend your money and get the hell out of here, or we'll woop you.
• Don't order wheat toast at Cracker Barrel. Everyone will instantly know that you're a Yankee. Eat your biscuits like God intended -- with gravy. When we are forced to go up North, we have the good sense not to ask for okra and collard greens on one of your hero sandwiches. And don't put sugar on your grits, or we'll woop you.
• Don't fake a Southern accent. This will almost assuredly incite a riot, and you will get wooped multiple times by multiple people.
• Don't talk about how much better things are at home because we know better. Many of us have had to visit Northern cities the likes of Detroit, Chicago, and DC, and we have the scars to prove it. If you don't like it here, Delta is ready when you are; in fact, they are even ready before you are so they can get you out of here. Move your butt on home before it gets kicked.
• Yes, we know how to speak proper English. We talk this way because we don't want to sound like you. We don't care if you don't understand what we are saying. All other Southerners understand what we are saying, and that's all that matters. If most of us had our way, you would not be here to listen to us. Now, go away and leave us alone, or we'll kick your butt.
• Don't complain that the South is dirty and polluted. None of OUR lakes or rivers have caught fire recently. If you whine about OUR scenic beauty, we'll woop you all the way back to Boston Harbor.
• Don't ridicule our Southern manners. We say sir and ma'am. We old doors open for others. We offer our seats to old folks because such things are expected of civilized people. Behave yourselves around our sweet little gray-haired grandmothers or they'll woop you just like they did us. Where did you think we learned all the varieties of wooping that we have perfected?
• So you think we're "quaint" or "losers" because most of us live in the countryside? That's because we have enough sense to not live in filthy, smelly, crime-infested cesspools like New York or Baltimore. Make fun of our fresh air, and we'll woop you.
• Down here the sport that matters is football. Squash is not a game; it is what happens to people in a football game. The second most important sport is spring football. If you insist on talking about tennis or some other goofy game, you'll wind up with a wooping.
• Last, but not least, DO NOT DARE to come down here and tell us how to cook barbecue. This will get your rear end shot - after it is thoroughly and properly wooped. You're lucky we let you come down here at all. Criticize our barbecue, and you will go home in a pine box. Minus your well-wooped butt.

. . . would come down into town, have a baby, and gather supplies for the summer.

After a few years of this, she looked despairingly at the doctor and said, "Doctor, I don't know how much more of this I can handle. We got us eight kids now and I just don't know how we can go on. I gotta do something about having all these babies or I'll just lose my mind!"

The doctor scratched his head and wondered how to gently instruct the woman and finally told her to pick up a ten-gallon bucket along with her supplies. "Every night when you go to bed, I want both of your feet in that bucket and I don't want you to take them out until morning." So the lady was off and all of her problems seemed to be solved.

That next spring, right on cue, she walked into the doctor's office and promptly delivered another child. "Ma'am, I thought I told you to sleep each night with your feet in a ten-gallon bucket. What happened?"

"Well, you see, doctor, the store was all out of ten-gallon buckets, so I just figured two five-gallon buckets would do the trick just the same."

Collards is green, my dog's name is Blue
and I'm so lucky to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk, a flapping in the breeze
Softer than Blue's and without all them fleas.

You move like the bass which excite me in May.
You ain't got no scales but I luv you anyway.

Yo're as satisfy'n as okry jist a-fry'n in the pan.
Yo're as fragrant as "snuff" right out of the can.

You have some'a yore teeth for which I am proud;
I hold my head high when we're in a crowd.

On special occasions, when you shave under yore arms,
well, I'm in hawg heaven and awed by yore charms.

Still them fellers at work, they all want to know,
what I did to deserve such a purdy, young doe.

Like a good roll of duct tape yo're there fer yore man,
to patch up life's troubles and fix what you can.

Yo're as cute as a junebug a-buzzin' overhead.
You ain't mean like those far ants I found in my bed.

Cut from the best cloth like a plaid flannel shirt,
you spark up my life more than a fresh load of dirt.

When you hold me real tight like a padded gunrack,
my life is complete; ain't nuttin' I lack.

Yore complexion, it's perfection, like the best vinyl sidin'.
Despite all the years, yore age it keeps hidin'.

Me 'n' you's like a Moon Pie with a RC cold drank,
we go together like a skunk goes with stank.

Some men, they buy chocolate for Valentine's Day;
They git it at Wal-Mart, it's romantic that way.

Some men git roses on that special day from the cooler at Kroger.
That's impressive," I say.

Some men buy fine diamonds from a flea market booth.
"Diamonds are forever," they explain, suave and so couth.

But for this man, honey, these jist won't do,
Cause yor'e too special, you sweet thang you.

I got you a gift, without taste nor odor, more useful than diamonds......
It's a New Troll'n Motor!!

• Don't order filet mignon or pasta primavera at Waffle House. It's just a diner. They serve breakfast 24 hours a day. Let them cook something they know. If you confuse them, they'll kick your ass.
• Don't laugh at our Southern names. (Merleen, Bodie, Ovine, Arvel, Luther, Ray, Tammy Lynn, Darla Beth, Inez, Billy Joe, Sissy, etc.) These people have all been known to kick ass.
• Don't order a bottle of pop or a can of soda down here. Down here it's called Coke. Nobody gives a flying damn whether it's Pepsi, RC, Dr. Pepper, 7-Up or whatever- it's still a Coke. Accept it. Doing otherwise can lead to an ass kicking.
• We know our heritage. Most of us are more literate than you (e.g., Welty, Williams, Faulkner). We are also better educated and generally a lot nicer. Don't refer to us as a bunch of hillbillies, or we'll kick your ass.
• We have plenty of business sense (e.g., Fred Smith of Fed Ex, Turner Broadcasting, MCI WorldCom, MTV, Netscape). Naturally, we do, sometimes, have small lapses in judgment (e.g., David Duke). We don't care if you think we are dumb. We can still kick your ass.
• Don't laugh at our Civil War monuments. If Lee had listened to Longstreet and flanked Meade at Gettysburg instead of sending Pickett up the middle, you'd be paying taxes to Richmond instead of Washington. If you visit Stone Mountain and complain about the carving, we'll kick your ass.
• We are fully aware of how high the humidity is, so shut the hell up, spend your money, and get the hell out of here-or we'll kick your ass.
• Don't order wheat toast at Cracker Barrel. Everyone will instantly know that you're from Ohio. Eat your biscuits like God intended. Don't put sugar on your grits, or we'll kick your ass.
• Don't fake a Southern accent. This will incite a riot, and you will get your ass kicked.
• Don't talk about how much better things are at home because we don't give a damn. Many of us have visited hell holes like Detroit, Chicago, LA, and DC, and we have the scars to prove it. If you don't like it here, Delta is ready when you are. Take your ass home before it gets kicked.
• Yes, we know how to speak proper English. We talk this way because we don't want to sound like you. We don't care if you don't understand what we are saying. All other Southerners understand what we are saying, and that's all that matters. Now, go away, or we'll kick your ass.
• Don't complain that the South is dirty and polluted. None of OUR lakes have caught fire like scenic Lake Erie once did. Whine about OUR scenic beauty, and we'll kick your ass all the way back to beautiful, scenic Hutchinson Kansas or perhaps that popular vacation spot of Sandusky, Ohio (or better, LOVE CANAL).
• Don't ridicule our Southern manners. We say "sir" and ma'am," hold doors open for others, and offer our seats to old folks because such things are expected of civilized people. Behave yourselves around our sweet little grey-haired grandmothers or they'll kick some manners into your ass just like they did ours.
• So you think we're quaint or we're losers because most of us live in the countryside? That's because we have enough sense to not live in smelly, crime-infested cesspools like New York or LA. Make fun of our fresh air, and we'll kick your ass.
• Last, but not least, DO NOT DARE to come down here trying to tell us how to cook barbecue. This will get your ass shot (right after it is kicked). You're lucky we let you come down here at all. Question our sacred BBQ, and you go home in a pine box--minus your ass.