I grew up in a town that I thought was great when I lived there. When I moved into the city I live in now, I realize my home town could also be known as Redneckville. It's called Omaha's sister city if you are being politically correct. If you are being honest, and live in Nebraska, most call it the armpit of Omaha. I grew up in a nice part of town, went to a nice school, I have no complaints. A lot of my family and friends still live there and are of course excluded from my rant about "Redneckville" (which is what I will call this town to protect the innocent". I also acknowledge that there are some lovely parts of town with new developments. However, there are also those not so nice parts, the redneck parts, and those who know Redneckville know exactly to where I'm referring.
Because my family still lives there, from time to time we are forced to venture into Redneckville. It's always an adventure . We were driving through RNV (Redneckville) one night. We just happened to be driving down the main strip no less. Back in the day, cruising the main strip was the thing to do. I could do this for hours upon hours on end. Of course gas cost 90 cents a gallon and it was different then. I also walked up hill both ways to school, in the snow, with no shoes! Times change.
Apparently some folks think that cruising is still the thing to do. We were driving down the main strip in our mini-van. Oh yes, mini-van. Seat belts on, driving the speed limit, kids watching Cars on the DVD. Out of no where we heard this loud RUMBLE getting closer, and closer and closer. We started to get a little scared, and wanted to turn around and look, but afraid of what we might see.
Then it happened. A red light. We stopped, and this monster of a truck (the producer of the rumble) pulled up next to us. Our window was level with the running board (for those even less redneck than me, that is the little step to get into the truck). The light turned green and Eric and I realized that we missed the invitation given to us to race this truck in our minivan. The truck took off like a sloth out of hell. I would say a bat out of hell, but the truck wasn't very fast.
It had one mud-flap with a silver girl on it and one mud-flap with Yosimite Sam saying "Back off". Between the mud flaps was a pair of fake testicles. A gun rack in the back window, two confederate flags sticking out of the cab, one window cling that said "pave the planet", one that showed Calvin peeing on a Chevrolet symbol, a home made bumper sticker that said "Vote for Bush in 2008!", and a personalized license plate that said "GIT R DUN". As they drove away, as fast as they could, the passenger (a woman I think), rose her fist out the window and shook it as she squealed "WEE HOO!"
Eric just looked at me and said "now, there's something to blog about". I replied "yep".
I have a few thoughts on the many pieces to this truck. Let's start with the mud flaps. They made it clear that the owner of this truck likes sex, and will also will stand his ground and tell you when you are entering his territory. Matching mudflaps would not have conveyed the same message. Why the little silver woman on a mud flap is beyond me. You would never see a woman with a mud flap with a silver man flexing a large bicep. Seriously, what is the point? To tell the world that you like "da ladies"? Regarding Yosemite Sam saying "Back Off", I never recall him saying this in the Looney Tunes cartoons. I guess "You dang near rootin tootin long eared yella bellied rabbit!" wouldn't fit on a mud flap, and really what would it mean? Those are a lot of words for a simple mind.
Now, the testicles. These crack me up everytime I see them. Note, I'm laughing AT them, not WITH them. They are not much larger than human testicles, so I'm trying to understand the point here. They say "My truck has balls!!" Ok? Proving? Your truck may have balls, but the are very small. If you were to make them to scale they should be the size of basketballs. I've decided to go get some fake nipples to stick on the headlights of my mini-van. Then when people see me, they will know that a woman who has boobs is driving.
The gun rack in the back window, I guess I can't complain here. They are following the "no concealed weapons" law. Two confederate flags sticking out of the cab really got me though. True, to those in North Dakota, we are from the South. But, to the Confederates, we are not. Should the "south rise again", those of us in this part of the country could be screwed.
I will not comment on the "pave the planet" bumper sticker. This is as tasteful as "Save the trees, wipe your ass with a spotted owl". Calvin peeing on a Chevrolet symbol, I'm really tired of seeing Calvin peeing on everything. GIT R DUN license plate, do I even need to comment on this? Really?
Lastly, the "Vote for Bush in 2008" bumper sticker. Now, you may read this, you may think "Duh, Federal law only allows for two presidential terms." While this is correct, what you don't know is that next to the statement "Vote for Bush in 2008" was a drawing of a lady's nether regions. This bumper sticker basically says "Vote Vagina for president in 2008". Makes sense, don't you think?
I could go on and on, and actually have many more examples and stories to share, but I guess the GITRDUN truck, as Eric and I refer to it, had enough story to last one blog at least.
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