“… Damn it Jr. I told you to fix that screen door, these flies is gonna carry me away.

And bring me another beer when you come back in here.

Turn on the swamp cooler… and hurry up,

the Springer rerun is coming on –

it’s the one with cousin Eb and that white trash stepdaughter of his.

I still laugh my ass off ever time I think ‘bout her get’n knocked up by

that 11 year old boy from turdistan. You’d think he’d hurd of a condumb.

Jr., are you listen’ to me?

You’re 14. You’d better be use’n condems with that Spivy girl.

I don’t want no grandbaby for my 30^th birthday…”

“Ah shit, is that the preacher come’n up the drive.

He would have to visit during Jerry. You’d think Sunday was enough.

Get my bible and lock up the dogs, I don’t want the preacher get’n bit again.

I kinda like this one, he’s cute and I think he likes me.

Jr. Jr. are you listen, to me.

You’re just as bad as your father, god rest his sorry ass soul.”

“Ah shit, Jr. don’t worry bout lock’n up them dogs it taint the preacher.

It’s those ghova witnesses again.

I don’t know why they keep come’n round here.

Can’t they read the “I love Jesus” sign hang’n ‘bove the front door.

The last thing we need is some mixed up

religious hypocrites beat’n on that broken screen.”

“Jr. Where’s my beer?

Don’t make get up outa this chair.

And bring me the Oreos and

that bag of chips from under the sink.”

“Jr. are you listen’ to me?”

“Jr.!”