We don’t call it “stress”… we call it “getting worked up”.
You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna find that Don’t Worry-Be Happy dude… and beat the living snot out of him?
Yeah – today I want to talk about stress. All the crap going on in the world right now – these goofy-headed brain-experts say all that stress can filter down to our personal lives. They say we got to learn how to deal with and minimize stress.
Apparently these twisted scientifical goobers don’t have wives and kids. They ain’t got thankless jobs working for idiots. And they obviously don’t got mortgages or bills to pay.
But these pointdexter yahoos do got a point. Too many people are letting the world get to them. I took a poll down at the Duck Inn… exactly one-half of my buddies are on blood pills. And the other half probably would be – if they didn’t refuse to go to the doctor’s.
See – there’s a whole bunch of stuff in a redneck’s life that causes him stress. Except – out where we live – we don’t call it ‘stress’. We call it ‘getting worked up’. And there is a never-ending list of stuff that will get a redneck worked up. His old lady. His kids. His job. His old lady’s kin. His kin. His boss. His truck. His bills. Sports, Politics. PETA, women working in auto parts stores, liberals, cell phones, metro-sexuals, evil-doers, gasoline prices, home repairs, butt-head idiot celebrities. When I just see Hillary Clinton-the veins in my neck get close to bursting.
Then you got your government pin-heads… your NSA, your IRS, your TSA, your DOJ. You find out what these evil losers are doing… and you realize you’re SOL… and probably DOA.
Wake up, America. I accept the fact stress is bad… and too much stress can cut a man down in his prime. My question is – how come we’re not already dead? I’m Earl Pitts, American… and Pitts Off!