Date: Fri, 15 Feb 2002 09:54:03 -0600
Reply-To: Max Wellhouse <maxjoyce@IPA.NET>
Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From: Max Wellhouse <maxjoyce@IPA.NET>
Subject: Fwd: A Redneck Valentine <f>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed
Only problem with this valentine is it don't have no mention about mobl
homes, trains, er gittin drunk, nuthn bout Mama, or NASCAR. Steve Goodman
is supposed to have written the perfect country and western song according
to David Allen Coe. "You never even call me by my name" is a classic, but
Coe's version runs on at the end suggesting an additonal verse covering
some of the above missing topics. " I got drunk the day my Ma got outta
prison, and I went down to pick her up in the rain, but before I could get
to the station in my pickup truck, she got run over by a damned old train"
Chorus: "So I'll hang around as long as you will let me
I never minded standing in the rain
You don't have to call me darlin, darlin;, you never even
call me by my name.
There's some controversy as to whether this is indeed the perfect c\w song
as Lewis Grizzard's favorite c/w band(forget their name) did a tune
called" I can't get over you til you get out from under him" Now THAT'S
red necks, white socks, and blue ribbon beer music at it's finest!!
DM&FS
>X-Mailer: Juno 5.0.33
>Date: Thu, 14 Feb 2002 21:43:54 -0500
>Reply-To: kdlewis@JUNO.COM
>Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
>From: Kenneth Lewis <kdlewis@JUNO.COM>
>Subject: A Redneck Valentine <f>
>To: vanagon@GERRY.VANAGON.COM
>
>A Redneck Valentine
>
> 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 troubles
> 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!!
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