Earlier today when I was driving home from an impromptu trip to Michael's, I passed the house that's behind the house across the street from our house. (Got that?) Let me paint you a picture of the house on a regular day. Big bellied men with no shirts on walking to...?, small children also not wearing shirts...or shoes for that matter, animals running everywhere...including that *darn* rooster that couldn't tell 0300 hours from 0700 hours if it's life depended on it.
The MOMD and I have been in bed listening to the sounds of hollering and/or illegal fireworks rush to our part of the neighborhood on several occasions. Today though, it was a whole new bread of Redneck. There were about 10 trucks, no cars (cars are for sissy men not fat, drunk, redneck white men) in the gravel part of their 'yard' and about 30 people in the shop. I only had the window cracked about an inch but I could hear the beer burps, man junk measuring and the carrying on as I drove by. All I could think of was, "it's going to be a long and loud night tonight".
Well folks, it's almost 2330 hours and I can still hear the jubilant sound of what we in the north west call Whiskey Tango. Now if only the MOMD was here and not at drill we could share in this happy occasion by calling the local police together...because we are old...and cranky, and that's what old and cranky people do!