Yankees are nigh irredeemable.
Their adopted pets have grown insufferable.
But the good Southern Man must contend with his own examples of degradation within his ranks.
For instance, some relatives by marriage purchased a building and were renovating it for use as a grocery. These ingenious people had a very soiled floor to deal with and they decided to mop it with gasoline. The necessary spark was generated, a rolling ball of flammable gas fumes surged toward them and they beat a hasty retreat outside, from where they stood and watched their investment burn to the ground.
Perhaps the most amiable people are the Coon-asses [the Cajuns who live on the Bayou]. When there is a large family the parents will sometimes assign the children to live in the hunting shed. I once dated a Coon-ass girl.
The pine woods of Mississippi set upon rolling hills and are open, with no undergrowth to speak of, a thick carpet of fallen pine needles suppressing the undergrowth, providing a soft surface and scenting the air. It is quiet open enough for a horseman.
Once, in my youth, I was working with one nasty individual.
“Come ‘ere You Son-of-a-bitch,” he says
I had a hammer or some such tool in my hand. He was just a dirty-mouthed old cowman.
I said, “I don’t know about you, but my mother is not a bitch.”
He’s says, “Oh, so you’re touchy about that.”
I said, “Yes, I am and you better delete that manner of speech from your brain or I’ll delete it when I go upside your head with this [hammer].”
With parameters of courtesy established, we then went about our work.
Rubbing Out Palefaces
Moral Minority Survival at the End of Caucasian Time Paperback
