A Quick Ode to my Upbringing. Warning!!! Lots of expetives in this here poetry

For a while, at least in middle school, I was the stinky kid in my class.

Of course growing up in Walden there is a bit of pride in smelling.  I mean when a good portion of the students come to school twenty minutes after having there arm up to their shoulder in a cow's vagina, there's just only so much you can do. If you've ever wondered where those country colloquialisms come from, you know, like "I'd rather be waist deep in a cow's vagina," it's actually from experience.  You'll note in the country there are a lot of insertion references: "I'll put my foot up your ass." "I'll put my foot so far up your ass you'll taste the water on my knee." "You've got your thumb up your ass."  "If I could I'd curl up in her twat."

I think a lot of this simply comes from being cold much of the time.  Again, real-life experience reigns supreme.

Like "bought the farm," that's very true because your death is about the time you'll finally own it. And one of my favorites, "I'd piss on a battery if it would do any good," comes from something we've all done when we were bored.  Yah, we've heard about the dangers of electricity, but it's just still so new and exciting.

One I don't quite get is the colloquialism prefix, "Believe you me." It's usually used before something like, "I'd finish high school if it weren't such a shit sandwich." Somehow, without making any sense at all, it adds emphasis to anything that follows it.

Believe you me, it does.

If you want to see the dumbest stunned looks ever, stop a country conversation with, "So what does that mean?"  Trust me, these guys have already thought about it.  Nothing says pontification like driving a twenty-year-old pickup on thirty miles of county road.  It's slow, and as they'd say, the going is like "watching old people fuck."  I'm not shitting you.  Because Jesus that would be painful.

More true life: hunger.  Like anywhere, people in the country get hungry, but unlike city folk, there's no Mcdonald's to quickly sate your appetite. So you get some of my favorite and most impassioned hyperbole: "I'm so hungry I could eat the ass end of a menstruating skunk."  "I'm so hungry I could eat the sidewalls of a shit wagon."  You might think they'd use the the more obvious, "I could heat a horse."  A horse?  Really? That's just sick.

Now there are some errant attempts at quaint, country insight.  My father would be one of the kings of this.  I don't know what it is, maybe he gives less of a fuck than a prude prom date, but his colloquialisms have always been non sequitors. For example, and this is an honest example: "Jared, I'd give, shit, enough goddamn chickens to fuck up a--goddamn." That's the man from whom I learned much of my English. Luckily I had a mom who was concerned about nouns and verbs working together and such. 

I think, and this is to my father's credit, that he was often much deeper in thought than allowed for his proper verbal functioning.  Because he's one of those locals; the guy you get stuck behind when you're just trying to blast through a town that, in the context of dinner, uses the phrase "menstruating skunk."  He drives very slow and much of that is in the wide open country spaces that gives you nothing to do but think.  This is healthy in that an urban environment can litter your brain.  But in an urban environment you're also under pressure to make sense.  There's all the competition for work and attention, and then there's just trying to get on a bus and telling the driver you'd pay but the "pennies aren't shitting quarters." 

It's a free-range thing, this country talk, where your solitude creates an unburdened, unvarnished truth about yourself.  And then, in a kind of poetic way, you peter along the countryside pondering just how to best put it. I guess it's like Thorough, but without all those words cramping you like mouse's cooch.