Self realization: I am not a redneck

You learn something new every day. And after 33 years I've finally learned the truth. I'm not really a redneck… I'm white trash. For those that don't know the difference, as I didn't until just this morning, the term redneck is usually reserved for people coming from a particular region, whereas white trash can come from just about anywhere. And although rednecks may have possible Scots-Irish ties (and supposedly I'm half Irish) I can now finally accept that I am actually white trash. Thanks Wikipedia.org for clearing up the redneck vs. white trash debate! I'd also like to thank the redneck community for their support over the years. Y'all are some good people.

Realizing that I have yet to go into my personal history on this blog yet (a requirement of the blogosphere if I'm not mistaken), here's a chestnut from my earliest of days. Cutting right to the chase, my teen-age mama enjoyed the men. A lot. Maybe too much. That's probably where I get that from…if only I were as successful. When she found out she was pregnant she was only able to narrow the potential daddy-list down to five. True, five is better than 20, but still. Not wanting to get burdened down with a baby and having to figure out which guy successfully planted the seed (or which guy successfully did not plant the seed) and pay for support, she put me up for adoption. So being born out of wedlock makes me a bastard, too. I'd but that in my profile but there's enough adjectives there already. Besides, people who meet me figure out I'm a bastard pretty quick so really, what's the point.

All of this might explain why I'm so drawn to the tv show "My Name is Earl." It's like I know these people because they're a part of me. The sassy bitch part of me would be Joy. The misguided do-gooder in me is Earl. And as for Randy? Well, I could totally see him as my brother. I'd like to think we even look a bit alike, except that I'm skinnier and have a rockin' mullet going on. Other than that we could be twins. Yes, it's like watching home movies every week.

So there you have it. I'm not a redneck. But rest assured that I'm still gay, a geek, and a bastard. And I'm still not gettin' any.