Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Ask Hillbilly Mom

As I promised a few days back, I'm going to let you in on my new
advice column. I hate to ignore those poor folks who Ask Jeeves
a question, end up at my Mansion, and never hear back from me.
See there, Ask.com people? You never should have forced Jeeves
to retire. It ain't right! People (even pervs) need that personal touch.
So here we go, for those inquiring minds who are too shy to leave
comments:

ASK HILLBILLY MOM

Dear Hillbilly Mom: What does the name Mabel mean?
Contrary to Aussie opinion, it DOES NOT mean 'imaginary friend'.
Perhaps the shortest answer to that query is: it's a dressmaker
dummy synonym.

Dear Hillbilly Mom: Can you tell me how to make a who-ville costume?
First of all, these are not hillbilly costumes. At the risk of sounding like
a yappy little snot, I must explain that hillbilly attire is designed for laying
around the shanty, moaning oh my aching sacroiliac. Your best bet
would be to buy a who-ville costume, perhaps at cardin's insurance
salvage stores. I used to work there, you know.

Dear Hillbilly Mom: What is hillbilly 7?
Shh...it's a GANG! I shan't tell you who's in it. Did you like my
Hayley Mills impression? Anyhoo, Hillbilly 7 is a secret society.
We hang out in spawn ranch stoners cave, downing hillbilly shooters,
talkin' our hillbilly lingo, writing the history of the slogan older than the
hills. Stay away, unless you've filled out the hillbilly application, or
we'll take a shot at you with our tater cannon.

Dear Hillbilly Mom: What are the 8th and 14th admendments to the
us constitution? Slow down there, Einstein. Perhaps you need a little
refresher course in spelling, and a lesson on giving the U.S. the respect
of capital letters. Those 'admendments', as you call them, are: 8th-
prevents you from being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment,
such as reading my blog every day. The 14th has been quite the
busy beaver. It guarantees you to have rights at the state level as well
as at the federal level, did away with counting slaves as 3/5 of a person
in the census, and proclaimed that the U.S. would not pay the debts of
states who rebelled against the union. You're welcome. I hope you
pass your citizenship test.

Dear Hillbilly Mom: Who was the fat man in a little coat original artist?
That would be the late Chris Farley. It was a song he used to sing to
cheer up or make un-mad his good buddy David Spade. They even
put it in the Tommy Boy movie.

Dear Hillbilly Mom: I need to know
how to make meth using benadryl

and vicks. Sure. And people in Hell need handbaskets. We're sending
them a shipment soon. And you will be in it! Since i'm not worthy to
give you that formula, I'll refer you to a hillbilly pothead. He's one of
those hillbillies sitting around. The one with the inflamed windpipe,
coughing up yellow green mucus every now and then. His tongue has
a yellowish green coating, and he's covered in man boob sweat. Yeah.
He's a sight to behold. I think he also deals in histinex no prescription.

Dear Hillbilly Mom: I must find out how to iron nylon graduation robes.
Why? It's nowhere near graduation time. Put it off. Better yet, the week
before graduation, hang it in your bathroom. The steam from the shower
will make the wrinkles fall out. Nobody at graduation will notice your
robe. They will be too busy wondering what you have on underneath it.
Hopefully, it won't be wet worn panties crusty pee. Because woohoo
mcgraw! That just ain't right. You'd be sure to get the boston terrier
stink eye for that graduation faux pas. A child misbehaving at 3 knows
that much, by cracky!

Dear Hillbilly Mom: Please tell me how to solve roof nail popping roof
cases. Hold on now, possum whacker! This ain't exactly Mystery, Inc.
Scooby and Shaggy are out with the hillbilly pothead right now. My
best guess is that it's some kind of spooky monster that will turn into
a reasonable explanation such as a robot designed to pull out the nails
and sell them for profit. That'll be 500 Scooby Snacks for my fee.

Dear Hillbilly Mom: I don't have to kill you to kill you.
Simmer down now, surelick holmes! That ain't no question. And
sure as you're lickin', Holmes, you ARE absolutely killing me. I
know your type. You need a do as you're told worksheet. Fast.

Alas, all good things must end. Check your ticket stubs for the
hillbilly drawing. The number is 420. Aww...you didn't win? Too
bad. The winner of the framed picture of toothless homeless person
is...the man who pays big to church and nothing to wife. There's no
justice in this world, huh? Come back next time when we'll raffle
off a little guy camper, a 15 minute mom, some hillbilly with jug
cartoons, a blind cave nub, and an 8 year old and the eiffel tower.

Until then, have a happy hillbilly day, and watch out for poo girls.

3 comments:

LanternLight said...

But they didn't ask the real questions like:
How do you make moonshine?
What size gun do you need to shoot 'coon?
Is marrying your kin a bad thang?

Redneck Diva said...

You're so dang clever. I'm going to have to try your advice column format. I mean, it's only fair - you're planning on using my "headline" format, right? Share and blog alike, I always say. Okay, so I don't always say it because I have to say other things like "No-No!" and "Books are not for eating!"

Hillbilly Mom said...

Lantern,
I can tell you really want to know about the hillbilly lifestyle. So I'll give it a try:

Moonshine? I've never made it, but it seems that it involves some copper tubing, a big metal can thingy, some corn, and some water. All I know, I learned from the movie Coal Miner's Daughter. HH has brought home moonshine in a Mountain Dew bottle from his business trips to North Carolina. I was disappointed that it wasn't in a jug with XXX marked on it.

Coon guns? I don't know anything about guns except they go 'bang'. I'm thinking a .22, maybe, because supposedly you get really close to the coon because your dog runs it up a tree. HH has been coon hunting. He said he looked up at the coon, and it threw an acorn down and hit him in his eye. His good eye. Coon 1, HH 0.

Marrying kin? That keeps the moonshining business in the family. And you can have those purty kids that can play banjo real good.


Diva,
I don't mind you using my advice column idea. I said the same thing to Dear Abby and her twin, Ann Landers, many years ago. They seem to have had moderate success with it. I hope you haven't noticed anything else missing around your blogstead, by cracky!