Backstory:
CHF, his wife, Gunsmith and I went to a real ole Southern fish fry and barbeque on Friday evening, with another couple+one friends of mine in tow, where we met up with about another thirty-five of CHF's friends and friends-of-friends. One enterprising man loaded his flatbed with several deep-fat fryers (complete with overhead canopy) and he and his son proceeded to fry up a mess of catfish, crappy, hushpuppies, gar, and turtle, while another couple fellas worked the grills for the usual dogs/burgers; the ladies brought the sides.
There was one exchange, after some rebel yells, about rednecks - okay, I was the one who said, shakin' my head, "damn rednecks ::smirk:: " and that's when "chew, chew, chew, spit" came up. And just to show y'all how damn redneck they are, they got it wrong in unison.
After dark, they pulled out the eeeelegal fireworks and proceeded to shoot them off on the pond-bank until one of them fell over and shot balls of fire in a few directions, through the crowd ... a couple flew right over the flatbed but underneath the canopy and into the woods beyond. Good thing it's been raining for a solid month.
Gunsmith said that's the only thing that kept it from being a real redneck barbeque .... nobody set the woods on fire.
Good times, good times.
