Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Redneck GPS

The other day my husband and I were driving to a crawfish boil at a person’s house that we don’t know very well. (Sidebar: Okay, that sounded weird. In our defense, he’s one of those “friend of a friend” type people. We don’t make a habit of gate-crashing all crawfish boils in the surrounding area. Although, now that I think about it, what a fantastic idea! Hmmm...must consider all angles on this one....)

Anyway, so we’re driving to a town that’s about 45 minutes away and having to navigate the streets of suburbia…which for two rednecks is like driving through a bowl of spaghetti. I can find my way somewhere using only county roads that may or may not be paved quicker than I can navigate my way out of Carriage Ridge of the Hills Subdivision (or whatever lame name is given to neighborhoods that generally do not house any carriages, ridges or hills whatsoever).

Enter the oh-so-handy GPS.

Seriously, I. Love. Her.

But Ronnie? Hates her with a passion.

  • In 200 yards, turn right.  Then, bear left.
  • In 150 yards, turn right.  Then, bear left.
  • In 100 yards, turn right.  Then, bear left.
  • In 50 yards, turn right.  Then, bear left.
  • Turn right.  Then, bear left.
And he’s all, “No shit Sherlock.” And I go, "Well if you don't like her, we can change her voice to a dude.  Hey, my mom's is Australian! We could change to her an Australian dude! Or maybe there's a British guy or a an Irish brogue guy....niiiice...".

And then he’s like, “Why can’t she just give you normal directions like a normal person? Like, ‘Hey, you’re going to turn right up here, but stay in the left lane'”.

Thus was born my idea….Redneck GPS. (Think "Larry the Cable Guy" voice.)

"So you’re gone go past where Bubba got his truck stuck and round the curve by Ol’ Man Jones’ place and then you’ll see this big ol’ bull in the pasture. Don’t worry…he’ll be there…he’s always there cuz Ol’ Man Jones don’t let him in with his cows till night time. Turn right."

 "After you turn right, look for one a’ them big bass mailboxes, that’s where SherryLynn lives since she moved out of her momma’s place after her momma ran off with the preacher from the Trustin' Love Fellowship and stolt all her money from workin’ down at the Dixie Mart. Turn left right past that."

"Go about 2 miles as the crow flies and that dirt road you see on your left with the dead catfish heads on it? That’s my brother Jim Bob’s place where them crawfish are boilin’. "

And now I know exactly where I’m at.

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