I guess get off the porch, pickin’ up the cooler, and walking outside of the trailer park has allowed me to make some wonderful new blogging buddies. I must apologize, because I realize my sleeve-less t-shirt ain’t always clean, and I can rant like your drunken uncle who comes to a family bbq, and you catch him whizzin’ on your fence, on the one side of the house where the wood is stacked.
This whole takin’ the road not traveled was a result of the constant frustration that I feel when I see all the stupid crap that goes down in DC. Sittin’ in my backyard, going toe-to-can with a 24 pack of sweet Colorado Kool’aid, I am still smarter than the 99% of the stuffed shirts that claim to know want I want, and how I want it. I have preached many an hour from my plastic handled stump, to my constituency, Dude,Lucy,Hazel, and Lucy; My dogs! All the while Box Car Willie is tearing up a great hobo opera in the back ground.
So I said to myself “John” real name, I usually don’t refer to myself as The Hillbilly, when I am talking to myself. Set take the gun out of the left hand, the bible out of the right, and find some new material to write about for a while. Of course, I said this with a beer can in one hand, and about a dozen in my broiler. So food sounded like the perfect fit.
What a jackpot I hit! All you have to do is look at my blog roll on the right. I could print two recipes from each site, make copies, paste them together, and make some serious cash. All these foodies should have their own eating establishments.
I have also discovered some very talented writers too. I am sure that if givin the opportunity, you all could be very successful, if you are not already. If I had a Hillbilly book store, everyone would have a window spot for their writings.
I also want to say hello, and a big welcome to those who do not share my political views, but come here anyways. I am finding it very educational to converse with you all. See, I have received a reputation from some of those around the cyber-verese that think I amintolerant of certain types of folks. Which is not true, unless your life’s goal is to pack your britches full of explosives and blow me up, or if hurtin’ innocent men, women or children is your gig. Oh, and if you don’t respect the laws of this country, this chaps my hide.
So everybody is invited to come sit,party,listen to some tunes, tell bad jokes, itch in places that you can’t see without a mirror, and get in touch with your inner Hillbilly. I am proud to call all of ya’ friends!