My redneck past is nipping at my heels....

I have a confession to make, kids (aside from the realization that all this petty bickering is just getting stupid):

I'm half-redneck....on my paternal side.

I've got a few relatives that live in double-wides--and yes, one of them has a car or two up on blocks in the yard.

I once lived in a double-wide. I've even spent the night in a double-wide during a tornado watch.

One of my paternal uncles was busted for selling weed out of his double-wide. Another cousin ran a meth lab until he got busted by my uncle the cop--not for having the lab, but for being stupid and bragging about his operation.

A cousin once tried his hand at making moonshine. "Tried" being the operative word.

My own father lights his farts--so, from time to time, does The Pregnant Motie Warrior (and she will kill me when she reads this).

I have an aunt who is also my cousin....second AND third once-removed. I have several cousins who are cousins to me (and to themselves) twice and three times over--I am not kidding.

The paternal side of my family tree is a shrub. You have no idea how much I wish I could say I was kidding.

My high school fight song was "Dueling Banjos".

The name of my hometown in the locals' native tongue is Y'ha-Nthlei. (Whoops, wasn't supposed to divulge that. Fnord.)

I have indeed gone huntin' and fishin'...and enjoyed every minute of it.

I've had chitlins, and liked them. I do draw the line at squirrel brains and possum, though. I'm half-redneck, not half-hillbilly. I also draw the line at NASCAR. I like to drive, but I need the odd right turn to break up the monotony--gimme F1.

So yanno what? Fergitit. Forget everything I said about not wanting people to drop the "redneck" smack on me. This whole series has been about my coming full circle as a fan. Can't finally set aside my past as an Oilers fan until I acknowledge the rest of my past and have some fun with it. Life's too short to be so serious and combative all the time, so I'm just going to have fun now. Pass me that fool hat, son--I'm going to go set on the porch a spell with a six-pack of Diet Coke and couple Moon Pies and be entertained by the bug-zapper.

And will the Hurricanes please WIN THE BLESSED CXP so I can call the circle closed and move on with my life? Thank you.

(This post brought to you by 5 minutes' sleep, too much caffeine, and Camel Twists--Twist for the win!)

(And yes, I know--I ain't right. My boss AND my husband tell me this on a regular basis.)