According to Redneck Creed he owes me his life

You know what makes me sick?  You know what makes me so mad I just wanna shove a pork-chop down my pants and try to sneak past a pack of wild hyenas?

Yeah – a couple nights ago – I did something I now regret.   I saved my buddy’s life.

Now – don’t get me wrong.  I do not regret the fact that Dub Meeker is still alive.  What I do regret is the awkward nature of somebody owing you their life.

See – what happened was – we was down at the Duck Inn – and Dub started choking on a piece of Kielbassa.   I mean – his eyes rolled up in his head and he was flopping around like a walrus just got shot.  So I jumped in to action – and tried to give him that Hindenburg maneuver.  But he’s a big guy – and I couldn’t get my arms around him – so I just gave him a haymaker to the solar plexus.

Let me tell you something – that Kielbassa come flying out of his throat like a rifle shot… ricocheted off my forehead and imbedded in the wall above the juke-box.

To make a long story short – according to redneck tradition – I now own this guy.  He owes me his life.  And he has to spend the rest of his life – paying me back. And don’t look at me like that.  I didn’t write the Redneck Creed.  I just live it.

Like – he followed me into work yesterday morning… and when I stopped for coffee, he grabbed my mug and said, ‘It’s on me, Earl.’   He bought my coffee – and FOUR donuts.’   I says, “I got to get some smokes, too.’   He bought me a carton.  Yeah – a carton!!

Then at lunch… I pulled out my baloney samich.  Dub says, ‘Put that away, son.’  His wife, Charlene made me home-made chili for the microwave.

So last night at the bowling alley.   Dub don’t show up.  And I was kind of hoping he’d pay for my bowling.  Because I did save his life, right?  Then his brother Junior tells me – Dub is in the hospital.  And I go, ‘What’s going on there?’   And Junior goes –  ‘I don’t know what happened… but Dub’s got three cracked ribs.’

And I go… ‘Huh?’ And ladies and gentlemen… right now I am smoking like a chimney – before he wants these cigarettes back.

Wake up, America!!!  Look at it this way, Dub.  Someday we’ll look back on all this and laugh.  But not today – you’ll bruise a lung.  And because it’s kind of my fault – you only have to buy me two donuts from now on.  I’m Earl Pitts, American.  Like me on Facebook.  And Pitts Off.