Save Yer Confedrut Money, Boys!

Y'all, why did no one tell the 'chick? It had to be obvious.

Y'all were snickering behind the 'chick's back, pointing and giggling like her zipper was undone and not ONE of you was willing to tell Roadchick that. . .

Apparently, she is a redneck.

Oh. Lawsy. Mercy.

This realization hit her today. After just denying to a co-worker that she was a redneck. Or that the new boy is a redneck. And then began the list of activities that she'd participated in during the past week to ten days.

Let's list them, shall we?

• Saw Talladega Nights
• Visited the Jack Daniel's Distillery in Lynchburg, TN (for the 48th time, she might add)
• Is going to the demolition derby at a nearby county fair tomorrow
• Is going to a car show in September with more to follow in October
• Had an in-depth discussion about the finer points of a zero-turning-radius lawnmower
• Saw Snakes on a Plane and wondered what all the fuss was about

Y'all knew it and never said a WORD.

You'll have to excuse Roadchick now, she has to go put a great big rebel flag on the back window of her car. And barbeque something. And then there's that sale at the Walmart.

Sheesh.