You Might Be A Redneck If . . .

. . . you were acquitted for murdering your first wife after she threw out your Elvis 45’s.

. . . you think watching professional wrestling is foreplay.

. . . your front porch collapses and four dogs get killed.

. . . you no longer drink wine ever since the screw cap got caught up your nose.

. . . you think that Dom Perignon is a Mafia leader.

. . . that billboard that says, “Say No To Crack” reminds you to pull up your jeans.

. . . your wife’s hairdo was ever ruined by a ceiling fan.

. . . you go to your family reunions looking for a date.

. . . you think a Volvo is part of a woman’s anatomy.

. . . your Junior/Senior Prom had a Daycare.

. . . you’ve got more than three cousins named “Bubba”.

. . . you have an Elvis Jell-O mold.

. . . taking your wife on a cruise means circling the Dairy Queen.

. . . you’ve got more than one other named “Darryl”.

. . . you ever won first prize in a tobacco spittin’ contest.

. . . on Thanksgiving Day you have to decide which pet to eat.

. . . you’ve ever come home and found crime scene tape across your front porch.

. . . your favorite entree is Spam barbecued on the grill.

. . . your child’s first words were, “Attention K-Mart shoppers!”.

. . . your idea of high-quality entertainment is a six-pack and a bug-zapper.

. . . your whole family is Democrats except little Mary. She got to readin’.

. . . you think the last words to The Star Spangled Banner are “Gentlemen, start your engines.”

. . . you kissed your own wife at midnight at the New Year’s Eve party.

. . . you’ve ever taken reading material into an airplane restroom.

. . . you’ve ever gotten an official letter of recognition from a tobacco or beer company.

. . . you vacuum the sheets instead of washing them.

. . . you’ve ever valet parked a snow plow.

. . . you’ve ever stood in line to have your picture made with a freak of nature.

. . . you break wind in public and blame it on your kid.

. . . you’ve ever had to siphon gas from your lawn mower to put into your truck.

. . . you’ve ever paid for a six-pack of beer with pennies.

. . . there are hubcap wind chimes anywhere on your block.

. . . you have a Bud Light pool-table light hanging over your dining room table.

. . . the strongest smell in your house is butane.

. . . you think paprika is a Third World country.

. . . you ask the preacher, “How’s it hanging?”

. . . you go to a stock car race and don’t need a program.

. . . you have a bumper sticker that says, “My mother’s an honor student” at the local junior high.

. . . you think potted meat on a saltine is an hors d’oeuvre.

. . . you played the banjo in your high school band.

. . . the velvet paintings in your house were bought from an art dealer on the side of the highway.

. . . you have no hubcaps on your car because you’re using them to feed your hunting dogs.

. . . you can’t visit relatives without getting mud on your tires.

. . . your mother doesn’t put shoes on to go grocery shopping.

. . . you’ve ever been blacklisted by a bowling alley.

. . . you honest-to-God think women are turned on by animal noises and seductive tongue gestures.

. . . anyone in your family has ever purchased peroxide in a gallon container.

. . . you don’t think baseball players spit and scratch too much.

. . . you’ve ever been to a wedding reception at the Waffle House.

. . . your dog has ever brought home something that you cooked for dinner.

. . . you owe a taxidermist more than your monthly income.

. . . you’ve ever caught bugs just so you could throw them in the bug zapper.

. . . you have a Hefty Bag for a passenger-side window.

. . . you’ve ever hollered, “Rock the house, Bubba!” during a piano recital.

. . . your kids’ favorite bedtime story is “Curious George and the High Voltage Fence.”

. . . your watchband is wider than any book you’ve ever read.