Hey, I’m A Republican Hippy. Does That Make Me A RedNeck?

With all these racist shit going on and the Democrats saying Republican are Racist and the Republicans saying, well.. everything wrong with democrats, I started thinking about what you like and don’t like defining you.  If you are against Obama you are racist. Not only are you racist, you’re white and republican.  If you are against ObamaCare, you are racist, white and republican.  Well guess what!!!  I’m a racist, white and republican.  I’m from the south so I guess that also make me a redneck.  Well.  Butter my butt and call me a biscuit.  Democrats are for legalizing pot.  Well, I guess I’m just this side of a redneck.  It might make a difference in how we, as rednecks are going to protect ourselves when shit hits the fan.  I can’t own a gun because my ex husband called the police and told them I was fixing to kick his ass, so here’s a little list of things I’m having in my security defense.  My redneck buddy!  He can’t own a gun either for, uh, well other reasons so we sat down and combined our stock of weapons.  I think a flare gun is a cool little thing. If the raiders are coming thru the door at you, you can get a bunch with a single flare.  Catch their hair and t-shirts on. Don’t you think that would get them to steppin’?   Sling shots and mouse traps play a part in the perimeter defense and food stock plan. You could sit in a tree with a sling shot and it’s very quite.  Take a hand full of rocks with you when you climb your tree.  Mouse traps will let you know they are coming around.  The mouse trap also works well in the food department.  No, I’m not talking about eating rats, through we could, but instead, nail it too a tree and you may catch a squirrel or two.  Yeah, yeah, I know.  Squirrels are in the rodent family but they would taste alright with some gravy and biscuits. We could have pellet guns for small game and to pick single folks off.  Cattle prods work good to get someone away from you and if you spill water on their socks it may just kill them.  For hand to hand combat, the ole cube ball in the sock works good for my redneck buddy.  He was over the other night showing off bullet holes, parts of bullets and chunks of skin dug out of his leg.  I kept asking him, what ever did you do to make folks want to shoot you and dig holes out of your leg?  I never got an answer other than I used to be a thug.  I think when he died on the operating table while they were digging bullets out of him effected him in a way that changed his whole life.  He said there were people standing in the operating gallery waiting for him and it wasn’t anyone he knew.  I think it scared him. They were waiting to take him somewhere and I don’t think it was where he wanted to go. That changes the whole way you look at the world.  I know it would for me.  I have never seen or felt anything while hanging between life and death.  Maybe because I have not officially died then brought back.  I’ve always wanted to see.  I would love a glimpse into the hereafter, just to get me going in this one.  Some times I get so tired.  Tired of struggling in the day to day and it get keeps getting harder and harder and there is no other way out of it but to die.  I will always be crazy and will always have to take medicine.  People tell me I will go to hell for killing myself.  But if killing yourself sends you to hell, then maybe I need to go. To try and be the mother I should have been for my son.  To be there for him because I wasn’t in this life that God gave me a soul to form.  He hanged himself little over 3 years ago.  No, nobody needs to worry about me. I’m fine. I’m on my medicine and I’m  just taking the time to write this down and try to explain how it feels some times.  People wonder how if feels to be crazy and suicidal, well let me tell you how it feels.   I have sat at tables in  coffee shops and heard people talk about suicides.  Some of the people even said that if they heard someone who wants to kill themselves, then they would hand them a gun to shoot their selves with.  Huh, I hope nobody in their family is mentally ill. Most of these people are in the medical field too.  From your lowly ambulance driver to E.R. doctors and nurses  Every day is a struggle in my life.  I am bi-polar and I am so heavily medicated that I am not a threat to myself or others.  I just have an extremely big mouth and they keep medicating me until I sat down and shut up.  The medicine has taken away the better parts of me along with the bad.  I am numb.  I used to be able to write so well.  My creativity is gone. Flat. Busted.  I use to be a social butterfly. Now I feel like a slug on the concrete porch.  The antipsychotics have put about 35 pounds on me and I look like a fucking whale.  I used to love to dance.  And my music. I love music, it lifts me up and puts me in a better mood, but I haven’t listened to music in a while.  My life is flat.  No colors, laughter or love. Just Another Day In Paradise.


About 1wanderingtruthseeker

I'm a fiftish woman that has opinions and passions about nearly everything under the sun. I love a good debate, not name calling. I believe in the Constitution , the Bill of Rights and God. I believe the government which governs the least is the best government of all. I believe in the rights of the people. I dispatched fire trucks, the Po-Po and ambulances for a long time so I have a wicked sense of dark humor and speak fluent sarcasm. I think out loud a lot times. I am offensive. But I'm offensive of everybody. Socially unacceptable, plain spoken and unashamed. If you don't want to be offend, please don't read and if you do, please consider that I'm not politically correct in any sense of the word.
This entry was posted in another day in paradise and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Hey, I’m A Republican Hippy. Does That Make Me A RedNeck?

  1. 1wanderingtruthseeker says:

    Hey! Can you tell I’m in a medicated mania? I run on caffeine, nicotine and sugar, can’t you tell?

throw in your 2 cents worth.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s