I live in a small town in the Midwest of the United States. Hail Hitler. Most of my neighbors are what I call "hicks." I guess.
The Hick is a species of Idiot only found in certain areas of the USA, particularly the Midwest, pity me. If you look up "Hick" in Google Images, here is the picture that pops up first:
When you think "hick," you think of this, right? Well I'm pretty sure every Midwesterner would say you're wrong.
The actual "Hick" (a nickname for "Awkward Midwestern-Southern Gothic Farmer Wannabe") is more of a combination of long, tangled hair reminiscent of Cousin Itt which completely covers the face in an unwashed mop, ridiculous cargo or camo jeans/pants, giant, steel-toed boots (pointless because this hick never spends much time outside anyway) and he weareth a wifebeater, mirroring his favorite pastime at home if he is lucky enough to indeed have one. When not carrying through with this frowned-upon endeavor, the Hick is sitting in his front lawn next to a refrigerator and a case of Budweiser (half-empty), absent-mindedly watching the cars go by as he attempts to get a high from a tube going up the exhaust pipe of his Ford Ranger pickup.
Whether or not you are shaking your head wondering how such a loathsome breed of humanity could exist in this world or nodding your head in morbid acception of it, please read on, because I warn you: it gets worse.
If the Hick has a son, the consequences are almost unbearable. The son attempts to mirror his father's pathetic lifestyle, but in a never-ending quest to appear more attractive to both genders of his comrades, he claims he works on a farm and is always talking about his dog, his tractor, his weed-wacker, or *sheeuk* his INTERNATIONAL HARVESTERRR.
Which brings me to another topic, one involving country music.
I have NO problem with most country music (with the exception of Taylor Swift), though I don't think it is particularly good either. But the Hick Son really pushes my buttons. Not only does he bear an almost religious fervor towards this mediocre musical genre, he bashes all other music as inferior. Once again, he is trying to show his manly male farm-worker dominance. The Hick Son listens to MAN'S MUSIC.
Oh looks like we got a real badass over here.
The sad irony in this is that the Hick Son finds nothing more interesting in his life than his tractor or his truck or his dog or his girlfriend (ugly as she probably is) that he is forced to listen to music which only addresses these topics.
But the worst part about this Idiot is his obsession with bashing anyone who does not fit his lifestyle. "City Kids," he calls them, laughing in the face of society. My my, he is such a rebel. I hope you can understand my sarcasm in that previous statement.
Not only does the Hick bash the mere fact that these "City Kids" live somewhere other than an isolated crack factory on the curb of a rural intersection, he enjoys making fun of the idea that they have never worked a day in their life, which is not true 99% of the time.
A Complete and Glorious Recap of What Makes Them Idiots:
-A laughable sense of fashion and/or outright decency and cleanliness
-A strange, confused lifestyle and an irritating and sorry personality
-Their ridiculous obsession with the country music genre and all that comes with it, be it women, money, or bragging rights in general
-Deriving a childish humor from dragging others down in a pathetic attempt to seem strong, important, or manly. The Hick himself is none of these, but we must remember:
The Hick must ensure his superiority no matter the cost, even though it ends up making him look like the Idiot he is.
Sincerely,
Sauce
NOTE: I would also address the unhealthy amount of meth addiction in the Hick environment, but it is a topic too touchy for this blog.
The Hick is a species of Idiot only found in certain areas of the USA, particularly the Midwest, pity me. If you look up "Hick" in Google Images, here is the picture that pops up first:
The actual "Hick" (a nickname for "Awkward Midwestern-Southern Gothic Farmer Wannabe") is more of a combination of long, tangled hair reminiscent of Cousin Itt which completely covers the face in an unwashed mop, ridiculous cargo or camo jeans/pants, giant, steel-toed boots (pointless because this hick never spends much time outside anyway) and he weareth a wifebeater, mirroring his favorite pastime at home if he is lucky enough to indeed have one. When not carrying through with this frowned-upon endeavor, the Hick is sitting in his front lawn next to a refrigerator and a case of Budweiser (half-empty), absent-mindedly watching the cars go by as he attempts to get a high from a tube going up the exhaust pipe of his Ford Ranger pickup.
Whether or not you are shaking your head wondering how such a loathsome breed of humanity could exist in this world or nodding your head in morbid acception of it, please read on, because I warn you: it gets worse.
If the Hick has a son, the consequences are almost unbearable. The son attempts to mirror his father's pathetic lifestyle, but in a never-ending quest to appear more attractive to both genders of his comrades, he claims he works on a farm and is always talking about his dog, his tractor, his weed-wacker, or *sheeuk* his INTERNATIONAL HARVESTERRR.
Which brings me to another topic, one involving country music.
I have NO problem with most country music (with the exception of Taylor Swift), though I don't think it is particularly good either. But the Hick Son really pushes my buttons. Not only does he bear an almost religious fervor towards this mediocre musical genre, he bashes all other music as inferior. Once again, he is trying to show his manly male farm-worker dominance. The Hick Son listens to MAN'S MUSIC.
Oh looks like we got a real badass over here.
The sad irony in this is that the Hick Son finds nothing more interesting in his life than his tractor or his truck or his dog or his girlfriend (ugly as she probably is) that he is forced to listen to music which only addresses these topics.
But the worst part about this Idiot is his obsession with bashing anyone who does not fit his lifestyle. "City Kids," he calls them, laughing in the face of society. My my, he is such a rebel. I hope you can understand my sarcasm in that previous statement.
Not only does the Hick bash the mere fact that these "City Kids" live somewhere other than an isolated crack factory on the curb of a rural intersection, he enjoys making fun of the idea that they have never worked a day in their life, which is not true 99% of the time.
A Complete and Glorious Recap of What Makes Them Idiots:
-A laughable sense of fashion and/or outright decency and cleanliness
-A strange, confused lifestyle and an irritating and sorry personality
-Their ridiculous obsession with the country music genre and all that comes with it, be it women, money, or bragging rights in general
-Deriving a childish humor from dragging others down in a pathetic attempt to seem strong, important, or manly. The Hick himself is none of these, but we must remember:
The Hick must ensure his superiority no matter the cost, even though it ends up making him look like the Idiot he is.
Sincerely,
Sauce
NOTE: I would also address the unhealthy amount of meth addiction in the Hick environment, but it is a topic too touchy for this blog.
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