What I Learned At The Redneck BarMy friend and I sat in the corner of a small town bar with a warm pitcher of Bud Light and two small mugs. The cold stares from the wanna-be cowboys in flannel shirts, ten-gallon lids and big-ass belt buckles bronzed with American trucks burned from the bar stools. A group of girls in tight blue jeans came up to our table sticking out their chests. They started some small talk and looked over their shoulders to taunt their boyfriends shooting pool and snarling with cigarettes between their lips. But it wasn't until I said that Garth Brooks sucked loud enough for the whole bar to hear that we knew the back door by the bathrooms was our best bet. MottoI've been meaning to write the State House with a suggestion to change New Hampshire's motto from Live Free or Die to Live Free as a White, Hetereosexual Republican or Die. But so far I'm the only one who likes it.
Nathan Graziano |