Redneck EHarmony Profile Rejects

1) Billy-Bob - Arkansas


Hi their ladies. I am Billy-Bob from Arkansas and here is a fine pictor of me in my swimming pool that I done built myself with my uncle Phil. It keeps the old jewels nice n cool in the summer months when I can't git to the creek. OK so it's really my pickup but don't worry none, I done gone insulated her with a little plastic so her innards don't git all fucked up. I'm looking for a lady of breeding who appreciates corn dogs, the state fair and pig farming and who ain't bothered about gitting on down in the mud or gitting it on in the mud. Yeeha. I'm looking for a big ass, some o'them big boobulas and legs that don't quit. I like's the little chillun, animals and killing pigs with my bear hands.

2) Randy, Alabama

High there ladies, Randy here from Alabama and don't be a feared cuz I might look like a real badass motor scooter and I truly am when it comes to bar fighting and hog wrestling but when it comes to you ladies i am a big old pussycat meoooww! Here's one of my special home made horseshoes for you lovely lady and it will bring you much luck, yes ma'am. It done brung me luck that one time after I snorted down half a hog after a hoe down and needed a place to sit to fart out my inners. Don't worry though, i done sponged it down since. I'm looking for a lady who likes a good time, can handle a moonshine still and who can ride the mekanical bull at the rodeo for more than 30 seconds that's how I know she the lady fur me.

3) Clarence Filburn IV, Louisiana


Goddamit. My buddy Keith wants me to git my ass on here to find me a wimmens. I'm just sick of looking after my damn self when there is perfectly good wimmens out there who kin do it fur me. I've a lot to offer the right wimmens like my castle here behind me and I got the built in air conditioning espeshly in the latrine area as shown above. I used to have the shitter inside the castle but then the damn vermins moved in and shit all over the place and i had to move outside for a spell. I'm looking for wimmens who will pay attenshon to my pecker and cook grits. Maybe you kin do it at the same time? She also need to be stacked like a water melon cart and she needs to know how to shoot a gun cuz the vermins move fast and I ain't got the time.

4) Cletus, West Virginia

Hi there! How yoo doing! Cletus here, good ole boy from West Virginny, yes ma'am. This pitcher is me after the town clam bake and hog roast back in summer 0h sevin. Was a scorcher that day yip. That there in my claw is a little special lemonaid made by Dolores Masterson and full of Jesse Oak's moonshine juice. I thought I had a shot with old Dolores as she a hottie. Wore my special occashun overalls and everything but she done gone made the beast with my cuzzin Fred. Well I say cuzzin but he's also my grandpaw. He says I should come here and find me a hottie of my own so I figure I'd like a blonde with big waps and tiny shorts and some spunk. I'll give her some spunk yes sir. I likes them gals with the sass and the gum. If yous one of those gals gimme a call on the blower with your bra size and bank account details.

5) Lurleen, Texas


IT'S LURLEEN GRADY I'M THE CUTE ONE IN THE PRINCESS CROWN. I AM LOOKING FOR A MAN WHO AIN'T A DAMN SUMVABITCH. MEN IS ALWAYS RUNNING OUT ON ME TO GET CIGARETS AND NEVER COMIN BACK AND I'M ABOUT THRU WITH THAT. I AM A CARING LOVING WOMAN WHO HAS HER OWN BIZNESS DOING NAILS FOR THE TRAILER PARK. THIS PIKSHUR IS LAST JULY 4 WITH MY SISTER JOLENE AT HER HOUSE. SHE GIT HER A HUSBAND WHO DRIVES TRUCKS SO I COME ON HERE TO FIND ME A MAN WHO AIN'T A MOTHERFUCKER. I GIVE GOOD SERVICE AND KIN TELL HIM WHEN HE NEED TO WASH THE DISHES OR BRING ME A PIE. HAD A FELLA NAMED CARL WHO BRUNGED ME A WHOLE PIG TO CHEW. HE WAS GOOD PEOPLE BUT WE HAD TO KILL HIM FOR GIVING MY LITTLE NIECE A BABY WHEN SHE WAS TWELVE. NO ONE CAN PROVE NOTHING.

Six Word Memoirs

My good bud CHRIS kindly tagged me to do this here meme type thing and naturally I cannot refuse because a) it's only six words long (i.e., my kind of meme!), b) it's all about me (again, MY kind of meme) and c) Who can resist Mr. Radloff's crazy ways? Not I that's for sure. So here it is. I'm not going to go around tagging folks so I say you all do it and do it now.

The rules:

1) Write your own six word memoir
2) Post it on your blog; include a visual illustration if you’d like
3) Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible
4) Tag at least five more blogs with links
5) Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

My Six Word Memoirs (I did six of them to be all about the six. Like the 666 tattooed on my forehead)

My Life Is All About Freedom
Loves Animals But People Must Die
Overly Fixated On Simple Pie Charts
Living Through Mirage of Good Cheese
Expecting The World To Worship Me
Loves Space: Too Lazy To Go

Your turn? Do it in comments if you like! I'm all about the freedom as I said.

How NOT to Write a Blog Entry

Have you ever wondered what a blog entry written at 1:45 in the morning, while drinking tequila might look like? Well wonder no more! Hi!

I should be going to bed now, I've been told, as it's work in the morning, however, I don't feel like it and since I am not ten years old any more, I don't have to. So there. So instead I thought I'd type some stuff as it comes into my head, which will be an exercise in how not to write anything, ever.

For example, I could tell you that late night Adult Swim is full of cartoons where giant asses talk, deformed, radioactive families live among the normal and giant boxes of French fries float in the air and have a beard and talk and stuff. It's like life on acid except...it's real. Well ok, it's a cartoon, but it's a real cartoon. What? Shut up Guv.

I could also tell you that 1:45AM is the official time of day you most would like to eat onion rings because I suddenly have an enormous craving for them.

I could point out that my neighbour is not long for this world and I know this because I am going to kill him for being a noisy motherfucker who is probably cutting up bodies in his living room judging by the thumping and buzzing sounds coming from in there.

My belly button is itchy, that must mean something.

Finally, who thinks having sex in an igloo sounds like a fun idea? I'm not offering or anything, I just mean in general. I can't explain where that thought came from but I thought I'd throw it out there regardless. Sex in igloos, discuss.

Bring It

April 24th will be "Bring your Son or Daughter To Work" day once again. I never understand this day. People bring in a bunch of hyperactive little people who don't do any actual work, wear a bunch of oversized free t-shirts and buy the last soda in the cafeteria when you've been looking forward to it all morning and are about to expire from dehydration. I feel that there needs to be similar catering to other, more childless entities like myself when it comes to invading your work day with foreign outside influences.

"Bring a Keg To Work Day" - I would approve this day heartily. A keg would fit under my desk nicely and a long straw running from said keg straight into my mouth would be a good way to spend any day. When you're mainlining Heineken normal workday hassles seem irrelevant. Or so I'm told...moving swiftly on...

"Bring Your Dog To Work Day" - Again, far superior to children, dogs could actually make your day more productive. For a start he can shred documents pretty well. Granted, not usually the ones you had in mind, and sure you still had a couple years wear left in those shoes, but hey. A dog can also finish any lunch scraps you didn't eat and chomp enthusiastically on the cajones of your boss when he's being a giant ass. What's not to like?

"Bring An Attitude To Work Day" - For me, this occurs every day but I'd like to make it official. A whole day where you are not only permitted, but expected to be an ass. "Expense reports you say? Why don't you shove those right up your poop chute and maybe they'll come out the other end making sense."

"Bring a Devious Friend To Work Day" - I can think of no more fun way to spend a day at work than with a similar bad influence. You could play poker (or Canasta if you're over 60 and still devious) smoke doobies, drink absynthe and belch at callers. Bring in a blackjack table and a few hookers and you have yourself a work party.

"Bring a Cake To Work Day" - The world would be a better place if, when you get a little stressed out or flustered, you can put your whole head in a cake. Tell me I'm wrong. You can't can you? Because I am correct.

Get More Intelligent With The Guv'ner

I thought it was about time I taught all your uneducated heathens a bit about history. Forget what you read in text books, people, this is the story you won't get in school.

Note: This entry is where I manage to singlehandedly insult a) the French (repeatedly) b) Napoleon c) English people d) Sacred September 11th victims and e) George W. Bush (although this one is generally acceptable)

The Guv'ner's Essay on The French Revolution

I’ll keep this as short as possible, because the French Revolution was really, really boring, full of lots of constitutions and extremist groups and who the f*ck knows what else! And besides, let’s face it, who cares? It’s France. Cheese eating, surrendering assmonkeys.

Anyway, Louis XVI - that’s a whole metric shitload of Louies, no? - was the dude who invented the Estates-General in the eighteenth century. Don’t ask me what they did, or what the point of them was, because 1) I don’t know, and 2) I don’t care. All I can tell you is, they apparently disagreed on virtually everything from voting procedures to how much garlic to put in their boef bourgignon.

Anyhow, there was a whole bunch of flea-ridden commoners who controlled this other organization called The Third State – it was never clear to me what in the name of Elvis the other two states were, but whatever, like I said before, it’s France, ok? – and the Third State ended up surprising everyone by gaining control of the Revolution by doing something bogus to someone else, sometime, regarding something or other. It's really not important. I had trouble staying awake that far.

So, anyway, these Third State people took all the privileges away from the Aristocracy and made them cry and wear pink, frilly panties, which would usually be a completely bodacious thing to do, however, despite their “power to the people” philosophy, once the commoners got the power, they didn’t actually bother using it to help any of the poor people, who, as a result, ended up covered in pox and dirt and weeping sores and sleeping in their own feces and not liking it one bit. (A little like rednecks today, except they didn’t have any sofas or a rusty 1955 Chevy with three wheels and a guy in a wife beater scratching his balls, in the back yard.)

They decided it would be good ethics and like totally outstanding, to take the monarchy away from Louis, but Louis had a great big girlie huff about not being king anymore, because not being king sucks I suppose, and so he did what any real man would do faced with the threat of being denounced – he ran away to England to eat caviar and do rich man, nancy-boy things, with lots of gay looking dudes in white wigs and tights. However, he never quite made it as he was captured near the French border and made a prisoner of the French people who tickled his balls with a feather, or something equally gay and French.

Because of all this hilarity with the monarchy, monarchs in other countries like Prussia and Austria got their panties in a knot and decided to make a big French stew. They marched on France with their armies, causing France to run out of bread and start to panic. Well, you would wouldn’t you? During the whole September 11th 2001 thing, we here in lower Manhattan ran out of bread AND milk, and pizza went up 50 cents a slice! It wasn’t pleasant at all!

Then in some manner, that escapes me right now, a bunch of French radicals, known as “The National Convention”, took over operations in France. The most famous radical of this group was Maximilien Robespierre, who had a silly name that was also spelled wrongly by the looks of it, and he and his cronies demanded help for the poor by taking over the government and commencing an almighty “reign of terror” against their enemies.

Right on Maxie!

This reign of terror was a major can of whoop ass, which killed 250,000 people in nine months, which is more than even Kraft Macaroni Cheese!

After this, things got a little out of control, although I can’t remember how exactly, and to be perfectly honest, I couldn’t care less, but Robespierre ended up being executed by his own justice system, which must have been a bit of a bummer to say the least. The French like to execute people almost as much as George W. Bush. Whether they also enjoy cowboy boots, barbecuing and butchering the English language as much, remains to be seen.

Anyway all this palaver led to a new constitution being written in 1795, which annoyed a bunch of people, which, in turn, induced some sort of a coup d’état by none other than tiny, snack-sized, odd hat-wearing crazy man, Napoléon Bonaparte, and mama, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender, whoa yeah.

This is already more than you need to know.


Honestly, you can thank me later.