We ain't terrorists, we're from Redneck Holler!
May 2004Hey, y’all! It’s been
awhile since I’ve written in the The Redneck Limo
Captain’s Log. The Limo was stuck in its lot. Some
people in Houston wanted us to bring The Limo to
Houston and put it in a parade. Now, they was right
serious about us bringing The Limo to see them. They
was even willing to pay us real cash to put it on the
road and point it towards Texas. Me and Punkin’
figured that was neighborly. So, we packed The Limo up
with food, clothes, and enough T-shirts to outfit a
small army and took off out I-10. But, I guess Punkin’
and his buddy musta done something wrong when they was
a-workin' on it, cause while we was driving over the
bridge to I-10, the lights started blinking, the cabin
filled with smoke, and Punkin’ quickly pulled over
while I prepared to evacuate. I figured if we was a
goin’ down in flames, I’d like to be the first one
out the door! Well, here it was 2:00 in the morning,
and The Limo was sittin’ on the side of the road
dead. The police pulled up and said we needed to get
this thing off the highway A.S.A.P. Well, we
started callin’ people to come tow it, but no one
was interested. Finally, the cop called their tow
truck and hauled our ride back to its lot. Did y’all
know it costs over $500 to git somethin’ that big
towed 20 miles. I thought I’d have to try that CPR,
I seen on the TV, right there on the highway, when
they handed Punkin’ the bill. Needless to say, we
didn’t git to Houston. But, since they’s such nice
folks, they invited us back in the fall. Punkin’
should have it all fixed up by then.
National Institute of Health Meets The Rednecks
These people in Washington D.C. called us a few
weeks ago and asked us to come up to Bethesda,
Maryland to The National Institute of Health. They
wanna see Punkin’ and try to figure out what’s
wrong with him. So, we figured if our government
wanted to experiment on Punkin’ it was our duty as
citizens to let them dissect him. Anyways, we told
‘em we ain’t payin’ the kind of prices they want
in the hotels in the area, so we’d appreciate if
they could find a spot for The Redneck Limo. Well,
when I told that to the woman on the phone, she
laughed. She said she’d make arrangements fer our
stay. So, we loaded The Limo up, Punkin’ fixed the
problem that stranded us on I-10, and we took off for
Washington, D.C. Now, I ain’t ever seen things like
The White House or Washington Monument, so we had some
plans fer sightseeing. We had a few problems that
delayed us in Georgia, but basically it was a good
trip up I-95.
While we were traveling up I-95, them dang
terrorists somewhere over in one of them MIddle East
countries (by the way, how can the east be in the
middle? It's either to your left or your right
depending on which way yer pointin') threatened
someone in the government, and that alert thing went
up by the time we reached Maryland. Everyone in
security and the police force had their shorts in a
bunch. There was police everywhere, and they was a
lookin’ for suspicious vehicles! Well, Punkin’ and
I pulled up to the guard gate at NIH and the guard
immediately put up his hand, and he must have been
really depressed, ‘cause he jumped right smack in
front of The Limo. Punkin’ slammed on the brakes and
that cabinet door over the refrigerator that he put up
with duct tape tore loose and hit the floor with a
bang. Dang door, I gotta fix that someday, he
says. Now, that door's been like that for 2 years, and
it ain’t fixed yet, so I just chuckled. While we're
discussing Roger's commitment to his chores, the guard
comes up to the window kinda cautious and says,
open your trunk please! We just kinda stared at
him with puzzled looks on our face. He walked around
to my side and said, Please open your trunk.
Now, I ain’t no genius, and I figure we don’t have
near the sophistication them Yankees do that works
with the government, but we are aware that motorhomes
don’t have trunks. I thought maybe I should lift the
lid on the john and let him have a look down there.
Well, we said, This is a motorhome, it ain’t
gotta trunk. He says, Oh, I thought it was a
bus. Well, now not bein’ an Einstein or anything
like that, but Punkin’ reminded him that a bus
doesn’t have a trunk either. Duh! But, ya know, he
was a nice feller only trying to do his job, so we
invited him to come in and have a look around. Well,
he seemed to ignore that for a few seconds then he
walked over to Punkin’s window and stuck a stick in
it with some kind of clothe on the end. Well, Punkin’
thought he was givin’ him a gift or something, so he
grabbed the guy’s stick and said, Thank ya,
that’s mighty nice. Well, we kind of looked at
the stick and at each other wondering what it was and
why he gave it to us. Meanwhile, the guard's gettin
impatient and yells at Punkin', "Give me that
back" Well, he takes the stick back and then
sticks it in the window again. Now, we're really
confused. Punkin' reaches out fer the stick again and
the guard yells, "Don't touch it!" Well,
Punkin' pulled back and then, the guard goes to wipen
off the steering wheel. Well, that was right nice of
them to clean our steering wheel for us seein' as how
Punkin' got his jelly donut all over it while he was
drivin' on the expressway. Then, the guard stepped in
front of The Limo and said, "Don't move."
So, I put on my favorite bluegrass tape, went to the
kitchen and got a bag of chips and a coke and came
back to my seat.
Next, the guard went back to his shack while
another military lookin' guy stepped in front of The
Limo. Then, a second guard walked up to the Limo door
and asked to come in. We said sure, and offered him
some chips, a coke, and one of our cards. In big
cities, everyone hands each other a card, so we made
some cards up with a picture of The Redneck Limo on it
and Punkin's name. Well, after about 40 minutes, they
called the doctors that wanted to experiment on Punkin',
and the doctors told them to find a place for The
Redneck Limo. Well they told us to park in Area 51
(shiver). That was in the center of a big field miles
from any building where they could keep a good eye on
us. We began to wonder if we came to the right place.
Area 51!!! Scary! But, there's plenty of fields in
Redneck Holler, so it was kinda like home.
Well, the end of the story is that they couldn't
figure out what's wrong with Punkin'. I coulda told
them that. People have been tryin' to figure out
Punkin for years and ain't had no luck.
So, since we had extra time, we decided to head for
Nashville......
Story to be continued when I'm finished with
canning those Georgia peaches we brung home.
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