Do you know anyone in your life who proudly calls himself or herself a redneck? You don’t know anyone? That’s fine. We found a letter that encapsulates everything that being a redneck is all about.
Dearest Redneck Son,
I’m writing this slow because I know you can’t read fast. We don’t live where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 202 miles of your home, so we moved. I won’t be able to send you the address because the last North Carolina family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so they wouldn’t have to change their address.
This place is really nice; It even has a washing machine. I’m not sure it works so well, though. Last week, I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We haven’t seen them since. The weather isn’t bad here. It only rained twice last week: the first time in three days and the second time for four days.
About that coat you wanted me to send: your uncle Billy Bob said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets. Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get your father and me out.
Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven’t found out what it is yet so I don’t know if you are an aunt or uncle. Uncle Bobby Ray fell into him out, but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated. He burned for three days.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down. There isn’t much more news at this time. Nothing much out of the normal has happened.
Your favorite aunt,
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