Daryl Lee Creach, special contributor
Y’know, some of us ain’t never gonna be near nothin’ we call fancy, but that don’t mean we cant put some of that class up all in here. Now we ain’t white trash or nuthin, but just cuz we here all know the taste of possum, and have even thought of writin’ a book full of possum recipeas, don’t mean we ain’t entirely without class neither. But we ain’t like them Whipples
on the other side of the trailer court, thinkin’ they all high and mighty or some shit cuz they bought an exhaust manifold for a ‘89 Camaro. It’s just sitting on their lawn, all for everyone to see. THEY DON”T EVEN OWN A CAMARO! YOU HEAR THAT REGGIE, YOU BROKE- ASS CRACKER PIECE OF WHITE TRASH! WOO! SKYNYRD!
We Creaches are humble folk. We know who we is. Sure there done been a sleaze streak with our kin, but we know we got some class where it counts. I like to say we’re “Slassy,” and here we got some Slassy commandements:
T-shirt stains are like scars for clothes; there’s always a story behind ‘em, and chicks dig’em
When drinking a camo-print tallboy of Busch, always drink it with your index and middle finger pointing out, preferably while holding a Winston. Makes ya look like ya know whatcha talkin’ about.
When ya git a gift for the Old Lady, think rhinestones.
Garden hoses are a perfectly acceptable replacement for most of your plumbing.
Motor homes can too have spinning rims.
Your double- wide can never have too many velvet paintings.
Wranglers do count as formal wear.
Never trust a man with more than two American Eagles on his shirt.
Gettin’ in on class action lawsuits is an honest livin.
Nothing says “Rocky Mountain
Christmas” like decorating your tree with Coors Light cans.
Every young lady on her 13th birthday will receive a hair crimper.
Every girl should own at least 6 Bumpits.
The microwave should be used for every meal that isn’t BBQ’d.