Skip to comments.RED-NECK VALENTINE'S LOVE POEM
Posted on 02/09/2008 3:30:24 PM PST by CGASMIA68
RED-NECK VALENTINE'S LOVE POEM
Collards is green my dog's name is Blue and I'm so lucky to have a sweet thang like you.
Yore hair is like cornsilk a-flapping in the breeze Softer than Blue's and without all them fleas.
You move like the bass, which excite me in May. You ain't got no scales but I luv you anyway.
Yo're as satisfy'n as okry jist a-fry'n in the pan. Yo're as fragrant as "snuff" right out of the can.
You have som'a yore teeth, for which I am proud; I hold my head high when we're in a crowd.
On special occasions, when you shave under yore arms, well, I'm in hawg heaven, and awed by yore charms.
Still them fellers at work, they all want to know, what I did to deserve such a purdy, young doe.
Like a good roll of duct tape yo're there fer yore man, to patch up life's trou bles and fix what you can.
Yo're as cute as a junebug a-buzzin' overhead. You ain't mean like those far ants I found in my bed.
Cut from the best cloth like a plaid flannel shirt, you spark up my life more than a fresh load of dirt.
When you hold me real tight like a padded gunrack, my life is complete; Ain't nuttin' I lack.
Yore complexion, it's perfection, like the best vinyl sidin'. despite all the years, yore age, it keeps hidin'.
Me 'n' you's like a Moon Pie with a RC cold drank, we go together like a skunk goes with stank.
Some men, they buy chocolate for Valentine's Day; They git it at Wal-Mart, it's romantic that way.
Some men git roses on that special day from the cooler at Kroger. "That's impressive," I say.
Some men buy fine diamonds from a flea market booth. "Diamonds are forever," they explain, suave and couth.
But for this man, honey, these won't do. Cause yo're too special, you sweet thang you. I got you a gift, without taste nor odor, more useful than diamonds... IT'S A NEW TROLLIN' MOTOR!!
Children are like farts: your own are just about tolerable, but everyone else's are horrendous.
Where did you find this?
It is cute but also funny...
Roses R red
Violets R not
Yur hair glistens
Like fresh picked snot.
Luv ya, deer. Jed Bob
E-mail from a NC/S Fla bud
Oh ok, well thank you for sharing it...
If your mother keeps a spit cup at the ironing board, you might be a redneck.
Or the Steve Dallas one from “Bloom County”
In my dreams
You’re all I sees
Boobs, butt and knees
Be my main squeeze.
they should’ve added lines like....
“Ah luv my shotgun to shoot em hippies
That rebel yell when I hang em libbies
Yo sweet face as beeyotifool as mah moonshine bottle
When ah drive mah truck on Obama’s face full throttle”
I..fer won...are offended
LOL so true..LOL
wernt that be good
Lurleene is so pissed she done took my Everclear.
She don’t like being called a redneck...she prefers cracker.
To my wife, my life my turtle dove.
I love you more and more it seems.
I love you more than pork and beans.
I shoorley am imprest. And, wish I wuz as edookated as the feller whut rote this. All the wurds whut rime an such... Lawdy, I dint no thay wuz that many rimin wurds in the hole Nglesh langwage.
Ma gurl fren tol me that her folks inventted toothpaste whilst they livd in wes virginny
Theyd a calld it tEEthpaste ifitd been anywhere elst
I dated a latin girl for a spell, but I had to leter go.
She cud never remember my name.
When we’d make love she would call out Jess! Jess!
Some loves live forever
While others peter out
Our love will live forever
Peter NN or peter out.
She offered her honor
He honored her offer
All night long he was Honor and Offer
I thought you meant like, "Et tu, Brute" Latin.
Hey now. We knows about Everclear, yessuh.
It don’t make you sloppy drunk- you jus dont CARE about nothin.
If your father drinks from that spit cup... you might be a red neck :>)
One night, a torrential rain soaked Southern Louisiana; the next morning the resulting floodwaters came up about 6 feet into most of the homes there.
Mrs. Boudreaux was sitting on her roof with her neighbor, Mrs.Thibodeaux, waiting for help to come. Mrs. Thibodeaux noticed a baseball cap, floating near the house.
Then she saw it float far out into the front yard, then float back to the house; it kept floating away from the house, then back towards house.
Her curiosity got the best of her, so she asked Mrs. Boudreaux, “Do you see dat dere baseball cap a floatin’ away from the house, den back again?”
Mrs. Boudreaux said, “Oh yeah, dass my husband; I tole dat coonass he gonna cut the grass today, come hell or high water.”
| Great-Granddad when the land was young
Barred his door with a wagon tongue,
The times were rough and the wilderness mocked
And he said his prayers with his shotgun cocked;
He was a citizen tough and grim,
Danger was like "duck soup" to him.
His great-grandson now falls asleep
And fears no harm from the darkness deep,
For great-granddad fought and won
And tamed the land for his great-grandson.
Great-Granddad was a busy man,
He cooked his grub in a frying pan,
He picked his teeth with a hunting knife,
And wore the same suit all his life.
He ate cornbread and bacon fat,
But great-grandson would starve on that.
Great-Granddad was gaunt with toil,
Grimed and seamed with the sun and soil,
But great-grandson is fat and clean
And rides to work in a limousine.
Twenty-five children came to bless
Great-Granddad's home in the wilderness.
Laugh at the statement, if you can,
But Great-Granddad was a busy man.
Twenty-five children, and they grew
Stout and tall on the bacon, too;
Slept on the floor with the dogs and cats,
And shopped the woods for the coonskin hats.
Freud was a mystery, so was jazz,
Or giving their parents a scornful razz.
If they got fresh with Great-Granddad
He tanned their hides with a hickory gad.
He raised them rough but he raised them well,
And if they took hold of the ways of hell,
He filled them full of the fear of God
And flailed their pants with an old ramrod.
They grew strong of heart, and strong of hand,
The firm foundation of our land.
Twenty-five boys ------- but this great-grandson
To save his life can't manage one!
'Bout the worst description I ever heard of....
Thibodeaux: Boudreaux, did you get the parrot I sent you for your birthday?
Boudreaux: Yes, it was good!
Thibodeaux: You ate the bird!
Boudreaux: Of Course I ate it.
Thibodeaux: That bird spoke five different languages!
Boudreaux: Then he should have said something.
Actually, I rather like the sentiment, the poetry, the unblemished rural sophistication of it all ... and in iambic pentamiter, no less!
s’cuse me, I got plenty of sheep to tend to.
OMG, beer running out my nose LOL!
I love cajun jokes!
Boudreaux and his wife they out fishing in the lake one day. She stood up and fell over the side of the boat, and sank like a stone. Ol Boudreaux he dive in the water and look, but de water wuz plenny muddy, so he cant fin her. After a while he goes back to the landing and tells de authorities. They mount a search. All night, they don find nuthin. An all de nex day.
Finly, Boudreaux, his phone ring. He pick it up and say Ello?
Its the Sheriff. Mr. Boudreaux, we got some bad news. We find your wife.
Oh, mon Dieu, says Boudreaux. She dead, hanh?!?!?
Yessir. She been in the lake a day an a half. When we pull her out, she had bout tree dozen big blue crab on her.
Oh, poor gal, says Boudreaux. An you brought her to the funeral home, hanh?
Hell, no, said the sheriff. Catchin crab like dat, we trew her back in. We gonna check her again in de mornin!
Cajun? I thought that was a norfolk joke.
ya’ll got cajuns in norfolk too? lol
Now, see here, your racism is showing. That is a Maryland joke older than the country, fer cryin’ out loud.
Ya’ll got blue crabs in Maryland too? haha
Noooo...the Potomac - and the Bay - are another world, entirely.
There are folks down on the water that still speak old, old dialects of colonial english.
And their social skills are even older still.
I was amazed to discover the the “river culter” actually comes within miles of the Capital dome - and, oddly enough, the only one who ever knew it was Trafficant.
Of course, he pissed them off, with his arrogance and all, and they sank his boat.
Then they broke it up for scrap, and sold the metal bits to a scrap yard.
It was quite educational to watch.
Bookmark for my honey dew.
Thank you, thank you, thank you...I printed up a copy with a pic of my hunting dog in the background...She’s going to love this years card!!! ;>)
I’ve only been through there a couple of times. Too far north for me!
But I’ve been called “hoyn” by Baltimore people. That’s a different accent for sure.
Funny about Trafficant- when you said ‘sank his boat’ I didn’t think you meant literally!
Oh, yes. When he went to jail, for having government morons work on his boat, I lost all faith in government.
Not because the slimeball used them to work on his boat, but because of the state of the thing - it was pathetic. There were trees growing out of the deck.
Damn government can’t do anything right.
I miss him though. “Beam me up!!”
and that silly hairdo
It could well be a Cajun joke and be older than the country too, y'know.
My wife found a box of junk from my childhood days including some old poems and such from my young teen angst years - some about girls (but never sent). She asked why I never write HER poems. So - I wrote her this:
“Roses are red,
Daffodils are yellow,
I love you more
than mixed fruit Jello”.
Lucky for me she puts up with a lot!
You deserve a big fat smooch for that - and a little bit more.
Ping to Dave 'n all....
I don’t care who ya are, that there is a funny tag line!
Thank You. And since you know mine, would you share yours (my Latin is just a tad rusty!)
“the experts are to be believed”
It is a quote from the author of Narnia - CS lewis, I think his name was, in an essay where he discusses the evils of people who govern with a clear conscience.
His point was that a tyrant will get bored, or get drunk, or go do something else - but that someone who intends to rule you, for your own good, will never rest.
A’la hillarycare or huckabeemorals.
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