I’m from Utah. Where “redneck” means you’re wearing a red turtleneck and “white trash” is the stuff over there in the recycling bin. The most I was ever exposed to redneck and white trash “culture” was from Jeff Foxworthy jokes and Kid Rock music videos.
Until I moved to Indiana.
The thermometer goes down and the freaks come out y’all.
Cody and I have called the cops four times in the last two weeks. The amount of liquor that is consumed by my neighbors combined with open windows makes prime time television boring and unnecessary. Just last night the guy across the street claimed his girlfriend doesn’t put out enough because she “won’t get her fat ice cream eating rear off the couch.”
Then there was the guy the cops caught in our car last Sunday night trying to take whatever he could get his mitts on. Oh and then there was the guy down five houses screaming “GO TO (you know where) GO TO (you know where) F U! F U! MY MOTHER IS DYING. ” While screaming so hysterically that it almost sounded like he was laughing.
His mom wasn’t dying. He was just drunk and bored apparently.
The guys behind us hang out in their backyard with a gun shooting at rabbits. The local pastime is fishing crawdads out of the stream to cook for dinner. If there’s no crawdads don’t worry, there’s plenty of leeches the kids can play with (and do!). Our last two neighbors were taken away in cop cars after only living there for a month. The houses to our left and our right are empty. Wanna place bets on who’ll move in?
Y’all, for the sake of making it through law school with the least amount of debt possible we are not living in the best of areas. All we can count on is the weather getting cold enough to drive the crazies back inside behind closed windows and doors. Until then, pull up a seat, the show’s about to begin.