An American Redneck in London

The Last Post

2009-08-24T17:27:00.003+01:00

Goalkeepers are Different is the name of book written by sports journalist Brian Glanville in 1971.

I read this book when I was 10 years old and I fell in love Britland. English Soccer to be more specific. This where I first learned about such fantastic team names like Chelsea, Tottenham Hotspur, and - of course - Queens Park Rangers. I was hooked on anything English soccer. It really became my dream to experience the names and places in that book. To a Kentucky boy, it seemed like a fantastic foreign land a million miles away where soccer ruled the day.

As I spend my last day here, I am reading Goalkeepers are Different again (the Geordie Lass got me a original copy - i know!) Now the names and places are familiar. I have been to most all of them. And not to sound too cheesy but that 10 year old boy would be thrilled if he new he'd get to see and do all I have done out here.

Grown up fast. Dined with Bianca Jagger. Won a competitive eating contest. Lost some hair. Played football against marines. Got fired, got depressed. Met Sandra Pay. Won at Ascot. Moved around but never left Islington. Danced all night in Berlin. Ate a chip butty in Sunderland. Went to my ancestral home in Scotland. Walked on Hadrian's Wall. Had lotion rubbed on me in Cairo. Seen TONS of soccer, and - most importantly - made new friendships and grew closer with friends thousands of miles away.

Without these people - and you know you are - there is no way I would have even made it here passed the first few months.

I am proud of myself, and very proud to have such a great bunch of people to call my friends and family.

It has been one helluva three years.

No story, no gain.

All the stories are here...146 posts worth.

Rx
August 24, 2009

One week from today...

2009-08-18T10:05:00.005+01:00

I will likely be hungover, on the way to the airport to cross the Atlantic and get on back wheres I came from. I am ready.

I have spent the last four nights in the flat cleaning and waiting for the next day to begin. This has not been awesome, but has to be done, I reckon. I leave the flat for good tmrw morning and head to my QPR buddy's place for the last few days. It will have been 20 months in that place - I am not sad to see it go. Why you ask?

1) Fisher-Price 'My First Kitchen' Play Set - like most flats in London the flat is small, so the kitchen is small. The fridge is very small. The stove is very small. The oven is small (it took 10 hours to cook the small Thanksgiving Day turkey). It has been like having a play kitchen set.

2) NASCAR Showers - to take a bath or shower in the flat you have to trip a breaker to engage a small V8 water pump engine under the tub. This is loud, especially for the weird guy with the acid eaten face downstairs. He no likey. So I have dutifully tried to take a shower at night for the last 20 months.

3) Caledonian Road - this is the main road my street runs into. It is like set of a badly funded rip off of The Wire staring chavy Brits.

There have been a few stabbings and recently a murder. It is grim. I walked to work the last 6 months up and down it. Dog poo. Human poo (but done politely on a newspaper? wtf?!?!). Garbage. Rubbish. Used condoms. Used souls.

I once went down it very early to get Heathrow for an early flight, 6 AM and it seemed peaceful until the folks who undoubtedly were coked out their gordon up from the night before in torn tights bear foot holding their cheap heels leered at me - I was judging so, fair enough.

Perhaps my favorite shop (besides the endless corner offies, betting shops, smut centres, and cosmic book stores) is one that has been closed the entire time. It has a sign out front that says, 'WASSERMANS: SPECIALISING IN WATERMELONS'. That just fasicnates as it confuses.

Two weeks from now...

2009-08-12T14:24:00.003+01:00

This Redneck will be in America. This is good. I like this. A lot.

Today I thought I would share one of the few things I will miss about Britland. Orange Lucozade.

Orange Lucozade is crack. It is orange flavored super caffinated sugar water. It is like carbonated Gatorade on steroids. It is the super hangover cure. It makes you feel slightly sick at first due to all the sugar, but then slightly blissful and better all around. I love it. So much. I will miss it. So much.

Just don't take it into work in the morning and sit it on your desk. It is a dead givaway...

Time to Bail on Britland...

2009-08-04T10:11:00.002+01:00

If I were super-smart, had the time, or got paid for writing things - I like to think I would come up with something likethis article by Stryker McGuire.

I like for two reasons:

1) It was written by Stryker McGuire. Best. Name. Ever. And I met him at the Labour and Conservative Party Conferences last fall and he is a very, very nice dude. And he's American. Duh, look at that name..

2) It is fair, thoughtful, and sums up what is going here in real govt spending/budget terms (unsustainability and certain cuts to public services that no one wants to take) and pyschologically amongst the political leaders and chatterati (Denial that Britland is prob less significant in the world power scheme than France and Germany).

But, don't worry Nigel. I am writing this from my last jaunt to Egypt where when every man asks me where I am from, I say 'London' and they automatically go: 'LIVERPOOL' or 'CHELSEA' or 'MAN U' or 'ARSENAL'. Seriously, the Premier League is most underappreciated cultural export in the world. Everyone knows England. If the guys here start to go, 'BAYERN MUNICH' or 'BORDEUX' - then you gots it bad for realz...

Best or Worst Housing Estate in London?

2009-07-30T11:14:00.003+01:00

I was surprised to see that this estate (or apartment block) was not camouflaged. Or just up on blocks. There were no Camaro's or Trans Am's to my knowledge.

I wonder if there is an Earnhardt Terrace? Maybe Skynyrd Close? Skoal Court? Somewhere in London....

Countdown is On

2009-07-28T17:29:00.006+01:00

Y'all, I break outta Britland in less than a month. For Realz. I am working up to what will be that final post...

In other news, it has been busy as hell in Britland. Me and the Geordie Lass have been packing and I was sent up to Scotland for a about 5 days to do some work and gotta go agains soon. I basically stayed in Edinburgh. Enjoy some snaps below.

After that, we kicked it in Newcastle. The Toon abided and we caught a show - The Jayhawks. I last saw them here in 1995. Were this little band was the opening act.

Check out this Nigeltastic Story - I can't wait to follow the Department for Work and Pensions!!! HOORAY!!

London, giveth. London, taketh.

2009-07-09T10:31:00.007+01:00

When London is on, it is on. Take the other Sunday. Me and the Geordie Lass went to Hyde Park to watch The Boss at a music festival. We took the tube nice and easy, there, had a blast, and got home painlessly. So easy and fun. London, giveth. Giveth the rock, giveth the roll, and giveth the ride home.

When London is off, it likes to get you up the backside with a cold non-lubricated latex gloved fist. When I got to Victoria Station after landing in Gatwick Airport, it was rush hour. I knew it was going to be hairy carrying my two big ass bags through the rushing rats. But, I did not expect the tube to be SHUT. SH-U-U-T.

You couldn't even get down the steps to the ticket platform. I thought, London, taketh. I decided to take my weary ass outside and get the bus stop. To say the bus stop was HEAVING with people would be understating the scene. What next? The taxi rank? Well, it was only 100 people deep with a cab coming once every two or three minutes.

I hunkered down and put a bag under my arm and set off. I walked for about 1/2 a mile through the backstreets til I found a cab. What should have been a 20 minute £2.00 tube ride was now to become a 40 minute £26 cab ride. London, taketh.

Anyhoo - here are some snaps of The Boss!

Back in the Bluegrass

2009-06-30T16:44:00.002+01:00

Yall.

It has been crazy. I have been back to Cairo and Amman, had some good friends come and stay, and even managed to see the BOSS in Hyde Park with the Geordie Lass. Awesome.

I write you know from the family seat of the Redneck Clan in Kentucky. Back for the 4th - take that Nigels!

Will tweet along the way and try to post some photos of various travels soon.

Oh - and I know I kinda did the whole Michael Jordan (I am retiring, unretiring, thing) but I have booked my ticket back for my voyage back to American permanently. August 25th.

Only a few more posts left as there is about 7 weeks left for the American Redneck in London.

Rx

A Shocker

2009-06-03T17:39:00.002+01:00

There are lots of great Brit words I now know. For example:

BRIT = REDNECK TRANSLATION
numpty = dumbass
flat = apartment
fit bird = hot girl
Measure = shot of liquor
The Bishop's Finger = The Bishop's Finger
Cream Crackered = tired as hell
School boy error = rookie mistake

And there is this one:

Shocker = nightmare

I had a shocker of a morning yesterday. I will explain.

I walked to work yesterday because it is nice, tube-free, and at 3 miles a little heathy. I wore an old ratty t-shirt to walk in so when swampback came out it wouldn't soak my work shirt before I even got to work. I get to work pretty swampy and go to the bathroom to change. School Boy Error: I forgot to pack my work shirt.

Damn, Gina. I can't be wearing a stank ass shirt all day. I think quick (google a few things) and find a TM Lewin (nice and fancy shirt store) neaer work.

I quickly walk there increasing the swamp factor. I get to the store and ask for a 16 inch neck with button cuffs cuz Redneck don't do no fancy schmancy cuff links (I'd lose them). The staff at the store say that the only button cuff they have are the super trendy slim fit shirts that I reckon feature prominently in night clubs...mm-cha mm-cha. Not what I was looking for. So I find the least crazy one (purple and white stripes) and dutifully pay my £37. Ouch.

I hussle back to work and put it on, or try to put it on. It was so tight that I would not have been able to sit down and breath. I should have looked in the beer drinkers section opposed to slim-fit.

I was too embarrassed to go back to the fancy shirt shop, so I then husseled over a few more blocks to find an outdoor store. Where I found a decent polo shirt for £40. I was £77 down by 10:00 am - what a numpty.

The rest of the day was OK until they way home about 11 pm after some measres with friends. Me and my fit bird the Geordie Lass were headed home and totally missed our tube station to change to get back up Norf. Rather than track back - our London skillz reminded us to get off another stop where we could catch a bus back home. It was late and we were tired and when we got out to the street to find the bus stop.

It was closed by the police - no entry. F. Me.

Now we are 45 minute walk from home with no bus. When we finally got back to the flat, we were cream crackered - like I'd had the Bishop's Finger.

Picture Fun Time

2009-05-27T13:18:00.006+01:00

As per the earlier story, here are them snaps of Cairo...

The sights, sounds, and smells of Egypt

2009-05-15T15:38:00.001+01:00

Howdy partners. How was your Derby Day? Mine was good - thanks for asking. My boy JC sent me some real Derby glasses, the mint juleps went down a treat, 2 KGs of pulled pork was on offer, and everyone had a fine time.

This might be a long post, but it is one of the stories that has to be shared in entirety - not skipping details for the sake of brevity - ya smell.

Last week the Redneck found himself in Egypt for some work. I had three days there, but the problem was I was working all the damn time. No chance to go see shiz. Luckily, the crafty Egyptians realized this problemo long ago and created a uber-tourist event at night at the pyramids called: The Sound and Light Show. Where lasers and sounds occur and you learn about the pyramids through the narration of Omar Shariff - for realz.

It was my last night in Cairo so I booked myself the 9:30pm Sound and Light Show - my ride was to pick me up at 8:30 because them pyramids are about 25 miles outside of Cairo - I had no idea. Whatever. Sounds good.

Abdul promptly picked me up at 8:30 and set off. We made polite chit chat and zoomed outta Cairo. However, we first had to go through Giza. The traffic we faced over the next 20 miles took us 60 minutes of some of the unnerving driving I have ever experienced. Automobile head light usage at night in Cairo? Optional. Seatbelts? Overrated. The horn? Use it as if it were connected to your lungs and you would quit breathing if not used every 4.3 seconds. Crossing 4 lane highways by foot? No sweat, just walk directly in front of the car - and they will stop. They did everytime, but everytime your heart went in your throat a little bit. It is not that is was super scary to be with Abdul in car - it was just perhaps the most unsettling 60 minutes ever. Abdul was cranking that drum and base which only added to calm environment.

It seemed to take a very long time to get there (hmmm....)and when we did I was suprised that we parked in what was essential a paddock of camels, donkeys, and small horses. The smell was confirmation. As I exited the car, with the Egyptian heat still potent, a small boy riding a donkey zipped pass. No pyramids to be seen. We hustled to the gate of the Sound and Light Show - we were 15 mins late. Then, Abdul looked at me and said, "Oh no, now they closed."

No sweat I thought. Though it clearly was not closed. There was something going on in there behind the gates. It had some sound and definitly had some lights sorta looking like a show of some sort. Hmmm...Oh well. No biggie. I was just disappointed I didn't get a chance to take some pics of them puppies.

Abdul, quickly - perhaps too quickly - offered to take me to his friends house as a consolation. I was in no rush to spend another 80 minutes back in the traffic. So, when in Egypt right...

The friend's 'house' was really his ghetto ass shop. Hmmm....Which was closed but they opened for me. Hmmmm....They offered me coke. That was nice. I like coke. Wait - where the F am I?

The 'Friend' then tells me he has the finest camels in Egypt that I can ride into the desert 'like a Bedouin' and view the pyramids and drink tea. Let me think abo - No. The friend was persistent. 'If you no like camel, I give you horse.' Uh, No. Not to be deterred he says, 'No camel, no horse? I give you donkey.'

Clearly not getting the jest that I am not gonna get on any animal and 'ride' into the desert at 10 pm at night - he asks if I like perfume. Abdul has now disappeared. Yes, I say. Bad decision.

'Good', he replies. 'Now I show you how we make perfume in Egypt for thousands of years.'

'OK'

He grabs a few viles of different colored liquid. He takes one, puts a few drops on my arm and slowly rubs it in telling me it is made from a thousand virgin Lotus flowers pulled from Nerfititi's womb or some shiz. I grow uncomfortable.

He repeats this process with five other scents. Looking into my eyes he rubs 'Viagra of the Nile' onto my upper arm, I am not longer uncomfortable, I am desperate to leave.

As soon as I agree to buy a small vile for an obscene price, the concise perfume history tour stops and Abdul returns offering me a cigarette. As if to know I needed it. And I did.

With my fragrant arms and lighter wallet, I was ready like hell to leave. The traffic and drum and base sounded good to me again by now. However, the happy ending is that after buying the perfume, I asked if I could go to roof to see the pyramids. Which they let me do, and I got some great snaps. Even if was taken for a camel-free ride.

The Scariest Town in Britland

2009-04-23T11:34:00.004+01:00

This week I was struck with a familiar feeling I used to have a lot when I first moved to Britland. The feeling is 'whatthef*ckness'. Like, when I first got here and there was tons of ManJunk bouncing around me as males jogged through the park on my way to work. I will never be 'fine' with ManJunk all up in my grill, but I am used to it. It doesn't make go, WTF?

Well, when I got off the train at a wee town called WORKSOP I had the WTFness back in a big way.

The first thing I saw off the train was three men, tattoo'd and topless, holding onto leashes containing pit bulls. Just standing there. Judging.

Next as I walked to the centre of town I saw a store that was selling tombstones, memorials, etc. All fine. Except, the ones they were selling were USED! They had real people's names and dates of death, etc. on them. You can't buy a used tombstone! Where do you get a used tombstone?!! WTF.

My walk into was uneventful except that I concluded that the mean age of folks living in Worksop was 687 years old. Mobility scooters galore.

When I got done with my work duties at 9:30 pm I walked by down the main drag to find some food. Not only was EVERYTHING closed, there was no one around. This was X FILES type spooky shiz. WTF.

The only sound I could here was the 'clop clop' of my shoes on the cobblestones and my breath. Erry silence.

I made it back to the hotel to dine on roasted peanuts and beer. Which is fine, really. Did you know if you get a giant mouthfull of peanuts, then take a swig of beer, then mush it all around - it kinda tastes like peanut butter. For realz.

BERLIN, PART ZWEI

2009-04-23T10:40:00.014+01:00

Righty...

The real reason I had to do this in two parts is that I was doing the original post - meant to be one post - on a train. Now, trains in Britland are on the whole pretty good. Especially if you find yourself on a not very crowded one watch the Britland fields zoom by as you listen to a little Son Volt - all good. Trains also have wifi. More like wi without the fi. It is a patchy at best - so I had to wait to drop the rest of ze german bomb. Where were we? WO WONST WIR?

Right, it was getting towards midnight on the Saturday. We had done and ate good - and we were getting frisky after a few giant - SEHR GROSSE - rum and red bulls.

We scope the East German streets for more scenes of the nightlife. We walk and walk and walk - and nothing. I am about to give up on it. Until, one of those life changing events occurs.

I must say I was skeptical when Big Willz pulled out a crumpled flyer from his back pocket reading, "SOUL DISKO PARTY", and I was more skeptical when I asked him where he got it from and he replied, "Off dem lamposten!"...

The line had been drawn. Soul Disko? Or no Soul Disko?

SOUL DISKO.

A cab was hailed and we pointed to the flyer saying, "Take us der, bitte!" When cab slowed its roll and announced he would not take us further but the place we wanted was just up the dark hill - I wasn't worried.

We walked up the hill to find a country club clubhouse ski chalet type place and they were dutifully pumping out das SOUL DISKO.

And let me tell you - the absurdity of being half cocked in East Berlin with your boys at a SOUL DISKO party was suprisingly liberating. That is to say I danced my Redneck butt off. We got back to our place about 4 AM I believe. We sort of remember the cab ride home.

The next our flight wasn't until 9 PM so it was a very long day of nursing ourselves back to health and waiting for the trip back to Britland. But we saw some stuff anyways. Enjoy das photos!!

Das Graffiti

Brandenburg Gate

Holocaust Memorial

World's first traffic light

Das Wall

Das Braised Pork Knuckle

Outside the Olympic Stadium

Inside the Olympic Stadium

Reunification of East and West Berlin inside das SOUL DISKO

BERLIN - SEHR GUT, JA!

2009-04-17T10:07:00.002+01:00

Well word up all y'all - how the hell ya been? First off, obligatory apoligies for length between posts. Man - this new gig I got is for realz. They be sending me all around. This week I have been to Watford, Milton Keynes, Hammersmith (aka Glamoursmith!) and Newcastle. Of course the Newcastle - blows them all ho' way, like. In fact, i am blogging on a train back to Norf London right now. There is an old woman next to me in 8 layers of brit clothes - she still has gloves on - its april - i am in a t shirt - and she is asleep. Anyhoo.

A wee while ago me and T-Bone and another bloke named Big Willy Strollz went to Berlin for a dudes weekend of booze and mayham. We were not disappointed. NICHT DISAPOINTISCH.

We arrived late Friday night and boogied to the hostel in east Berlin to drop of our stuff then we went out. We did not know much other than the center of town was thata way. So we went thata way. After a few beers we found ourselves in an odd place called 'Palm Springs' that had real sand on the floor. DAS SAND IST ON DAS FLOORGABBEN.

After a few Tequila shots - the place is dead and we needz to move on. MOVED DAS ON.
We walked back to the hostel on the way we were stopped by a pack of young spanish girls - who asked us if we knew where the 'high disco' was. WO IST DAS HIGH DISKO?

Sadly, we did not know. So we moved on. On the way back we saw what looked like Goth Death Metal hang out. In the window a woman was dancing (not that kind) then was joined my a male dancer who mock murdered her. At this point we decided to go in.

It was crazy. Like an old haunted house full of goth german kids getting their dance on. I got my dance on a wee bit and had another beer. DISKO DANZEN MIT DEM BEIRE.

When we got back there were a load of young German girls in the lobby waiting to be met by their guys. Absolutely scheisse faced we decide we need another beer and get our chat on. There guys show up and are not impressed with us to say the least. DAS IST NICHT IMPREZZTISCH.

We woke up the next day to find toothpaste inexplicably all over many things. We then went walking and saw all the sights: Brandenburg Gate, Berlin wall, Checkpoint Charlie, etc.

That night we went out for a real authentic German meal. I ordered the local speciality - the Berliner Schnitzel (fried cow's udder). DAS WAS NICHT GUT. T Bone got the braised pork knuckle which was awesome.

We then hit East Berlin up for some bars and drinks. We got what we came for. We noticed that there were no groups of just girls out. Big groups of guys and girls. Or just small groups of guys who drank massive jugs of cocktails and chain smoked Marlboro Reds. DAS IST EINE OBSERVATZION.

END OF PART I

stay tuned....

Shake dat Tweet Thang

2009-03-27T16:55:00.000Z

http://twitter.com/redneckinlondon

BREAKING: BIG NEWS

2009-03-19T15:36:00.005Z

Y'all ready for this? No? WELL, go make a beverage or grab a beer, crack that puppy and get ready to read the words y'all never thought y'all'd here.

I AM MOVING BACK TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

Yep. And the best part - I got nothing to do with it! Aint me, y'all! It is the remarkable skills of the Geordie Lass. See, she got offered a position in the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. She starts in August - and I am coming with her.

We found out a while ago - but with the new job stuff didn't really feel I needed to publically declare that I was leaving the country and all. But, reckon now it is all good.

What? What is that I hear you whisper over the interwebs? Where are we moving? Wouldn't you like to know, eh? Well, I am keeping it a secret for now.

Oh, by the way - check out this cool photo I took of the Geordie Lass...

So, start the shot clock on An American Redneck in London. I know I said I was winding it down - but now that there is a finite amount of time this Redneck will actually be in London - then hell - might as well see this thing out, huh?

Yin and Yang

2009-02-28T14:15:00.002Z

This morning really nailed it on the head for me - the best and worst of Britland.

I emerged hungover from bed and found bliss in the form on last night's leftover curry, a big cup of tea in my Dale Earnhardt travel mug, a cool breeze from the open window and my mandatory Saturday morning TV - Soccer A.M. (they even had Mr. T on today!).

I tought to myself. This, this right here - I will miss. The cold lamb vindaloo, the hot tea, the cross bar challenge. There is nothing like a Saturday morning - just heaven knowing the whole weekend lies ahead and you can avoid all the crowds and bullshiz by just lying on the couch, belly full - watching West Brom v. Everton is ya want to. Allz good...

Nope. Thumbing through the weeks mail I find a brown eveloe from TV Licensing people. The front of the envelop has uppercase red letters that read: IT IS AN OFFENCE TO USE A TELEVISION (wha - what?) RECEIVER WITH A VALID TV LICENCE.

I f'ing hate this. It costs me £139 a year just to HAVE a TV in my apartment.

Then don't pay the thing, Redneck - I hear you say. Well, the whole prosecution and £1000 fine don't sound like worth the risk.

Nothing more snarky to say than this bull shiz. I know the BBC has to be funded by something - but doesn't the 30% of my paycheck in taxes help? Man, it just puts me in a bad mood.

In other news - get this - I got laid off!

Yeah, for realz. I got given my one months notice at the job in Janaury. My last day Friday the 13th - long time readers of this blog now for certain *gasp* 'Oh noes! Not another job hunt!'

Yeah, that is what I thought to. But it a way that can only show one how far they have come in two years I got offered two jobs in the first four days of joblessness. When you are hot - you are hot. Vindaloo hot.

So, I started a new gig just on Wednesday. It is all good. Yin and yang.

Rx

Well played Britland, well played...

2009-02-10T15:06:00.002Z

If you cannot tell what that is...that is a bag of crisps (aka potato chips) that are Cajun Squirrel flavor. That is change I can believe in.

2009-02-10T11:24:00.006Z

Yeah, OK, seriously. The weather here in Britland sucks. It is cold, grey, and rainy about 80% of the time. For realz. It makes everyone unhappy and pale - and drives everyone to drink to escape their gloomy ass existance. It's true.

Now, I have already endured the WETTEST SUMMER IN 240 YEARS here in Britland. Darn TORNADOS. Now, the latest and greatest weathertastic thing to happen to the Redneck in Britland - COLDEST WINTER IN 27 YEARS.

Now this is funny. So, last Sunday/Monday, whilst I was watchething the Super Bowl/Boss Crotch Slide pounding some wings - the big fat flake type of snow began to fall here in London.

Now I took the Monday off so I could recovery from staying up late watching the game. When I did get up, I was greeting with a serene site like (but not exactly bc I didn't take a photo - and I found this on the tinterwebz - oh noez).

What happened next to London? The great city that stood for thousands off years? The city that has survived heavy bomb attacks in WWII?

It basically pulled the blanket over its head and went back to bed.

Amatuer hour, London. Come on now.

Don't Call It a Blog Back

2009-01-27T16:27:00.003Z

..I've been here for years. Two years, three months, and five days to be exact. I know I said the blog is winding down, and it is, just thought I share a few things as stuff be happenin' and cash rules everything around me. Or something. Actually, my boy Pat was gonna write the obituary - but he has a real job or something and it is taking a while. Until then, I saw this and had to spring back into blog action.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/somerset/7853328.stm

Hahaha, hahahaa. HAHAHAHA!

Here is a great video of home! Go CATS - back in the Top 25 since, like, for like ever.

Happy Holidays

2008-12-18T17:23:00.002Z

Howdy all you Holiday Hillbillies!

I hope everyone has a great one and eats and drinks too much. I know I will.

I touchdown in Kentucky on Saturday and get to stay for a whole two weeks!!! The Geordie Lass is coming for her inaugural visit. She'll never be the same.

I am looking forward to chillin' with the family Redneck and getting fed heavily by old man Redneck and his treasure trove of BBQ goodies. That jolly old Redneck!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Rx

Ps - I have commissoned a professional writer to write the last post. I reckon it will be here soon. Is that a tear I see welling up in your eye? No? Oh. OK.

Kentucky 1 - Scotland Yard 0

2008-12-08T14:41:00.001Z

Hahaha.

Have a read of this!

Back then the vision was to launch an NYPD-style clothing line, the first products of which were to be polo shirts with the New Scotland Yard logo on the sleeves and lapels. However, that proposal was brought to a halt when it was discovered that the rights were own by the Kentucky kilt company.

Obama to Britland: Suck it

2008-12-04T09:49:00.000Z

Have a read of this.

Happy Thanksgiving (late as hell)

2008-12-02T14:36:00.003Z

This is about as much as them Nigels know about Turkey Day here in Britland. Just a bag of chips. What a sad ass country...

This Redneck cooked his first ever Thanksgiving Day meal for good friends last week. Thus making this first Thanksgiving more about actual bird than Wild Turkey, or Dirty Bird.

Photo Fun

2008-11-13T16:14:00.008Z

Y'all!

WHOOO! What a helluva of a week! The Embassy Party was great. Me and the Geordie Lass were all dolled and diva'd up and ate whoppers and drank ice cold American Budweiser. I forgot to look who won.

Here are some photos to keep your head ringin' in the meantime.

First off, this my new favorite soccer player. Akos Buzsaky aka The White Pele. Unfortunately he tore his ACL Tuesday and is done for the year. Bummer Akos.

The next two are of Wembley Stadium and inside the stadium at the NFL game the other week. It was a good game, Saints beat the Chargers. This my 2nd ever NFL game, and my 2nd NFL game in London. Hmmm.

This one is from the bow of a canal boat on Halloween with a 3 second exposure. Sweet and spooky.

Lastly, maybe the best street in London???

Glamburger Heaven

2008-11-04T13:58:00.000Z

Happy Election Day everyone! I am happy it is finally here and we can all put the last 8 nightmare years behind us. I hope everyone who reads this has already voted or intends to vote. Hell, if I can vote from over here - y'all can get your fat lazy American Mountain Dew drinkin' Slim Jim eatin' ass down to the vote havin' place. Get'r voted.

While half the country waits for an inbred muslim terrorist to lead the country to hell and the other half waits for sweet redemption and salvation, I will be up to some fun too. I got myself on the guestlist for the hottest ticket in town. The US Ambassador's Election Night Party at the US Embassy - starts at 10pm and goes through the night. Now, this sounds fun, don't it? I talked to a few of my pals down there and then they really got me excited. Apparently, Burger King is supplying 1000 Whoppers for the night. 1000 of my most favorite Burger? Challenge? Yes! I LOVE FREEDOM.

As if things could not get better, they then told me that Krispy Kreme is putting on a breakfast at 1am!! Who cares who wins? Burgers and Donuts! HOORAY FOR AMERICA.

*sing it with me*

I'm proud to be an AmeriCAN, where at least we eat Krispy Kremes. And I won't forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. So, I proudly stand up - next to you, and I let me hear you say, there aint no doubt I love this laaaaa-nd. God Bless the flame broiled pattayy!

My air-tight political predictions on this blog have been like an open window. But here we go again.

Popular Vote:
Obama 49%
McCain: 45%
Other: 4%

it still hurts to take a deep breath

2008-10-30T15:43:00.001Z

For those of you who aren't sports fans and read this blog. You may wanna skip this one. You don't hate freedom and live a muslim cave with communist Jesus-haters, then please, read on.

On Tuesday, life changed. I left work on time and marched dutifully down busy City Road to find Moorgate tube. The ants where marching as per usual and boarded the Hammersmith and City line (Glamoursmith for the kids!) to head to Shepherds Bush. About half way there, just past Sherlock Holmes' Baker Street, the underground train sprouts up and continues its progress west above ground. Oh hell. Once exposed to the weather I came to notice it was hailing like a sonuvagun.

Hmm, this was going to be a rather unpleasant way to spend the evening. Luckily, when I arrived at Shepherds Bush, the hail had turned to rain. Like toothpaste me and my fellow hooped passengers squeezed out of the opening to the tube onto the street. I began a very cold and wet walk to the stadium. Tonight, the Super Hoops were taking on league leaders Birmingham.

I'd be remiss in this story telling if I did not mention that just five days earlier, the Hoops fired their coach, Ian Dowie, after 15 games. He was an ugly dude, but not that ugly. Rather harsh, the Nigelistic Press seemed to think. I wasn't really concerned with that, more concerned my Hoops were about to get donkey punched at home by their neighbors 60 miles to the north.

As always, I went with my Hoops Dealer, Russell. The provider of the Hoops tickets. Legend. We went into the stadium early to get out of the rain. The wind swept through the exposed concourse leaving us wondering if it was warmer outside the stadium. We file into our seats. The match begins.

In the first five minutes Birmingham came out blazing and produced two incredible saves from the Hoops Czech goalkeeper. Had anyone one of these gone in, game over. The Hoops got some control of the ball and the game was fairly even until the last minute of the half and the referee (THIS GUY) gave a 'rather harsh' red card to Hoops player. The crowd (15,000) who were already spirited by a gutsy performance erupted into the loudest booing I have ever heard. If I were the referee I would have cried on the spot, it was vile, nasty booing. The chants began, 'Whose the wanker? Whose the wanker? Whose the wanker in the black?' followed by a one of a similar nature, the simple, yet effective, 'The Referee's a wanker'.The half-time whistle blew and more boos erupted from the stadium. I went for pee and the steam from which was impressive. I say this to illustrate how freakin' cold it was.

The second half began, and rain began fall harder. The 10 men Super Hoops came out and eagerly ran around the field in an effort to circulate some blood in the freezing rain. Within 10 minutes, (young Robert De Niro lookalike) Samuel Di Carmine on his second ever start for the Hoops hit a off balance shot from about 25 yards out that somehow screamed into the top left hand corner of the goal.

I, and everyone else, leaped from our seats. Arms extended towards the rainy, cold heavens. We screamed. And screamed some more. I later discovered on the way home that I may have cracked a rib during the celebrations. I am not sure how. But at time of writing, it still hurts to take a deep breath.

Now all we had to do is hold on. What? Is that? Yes, it is. Snow. It is now snowing in London in October, for the first time in 70 years. My toes are ice cubes at this point. I was freezing, and I didn't care (see told you I was getting more Britlike). Birmingham began the onslought. With their one extra man they just attacked the box time and time again. Each time, somehow, the Hoops managed to get the ball away. Sliding tackles across the ice cold field. Diving headers. That Czech goalkeeper even managed to catch the ball in the crazy conditions.

90 minutes had expired. The referee had been hurled more abuse that I hope to ever accumulate 10 lifetimes as customer service operator. We now had to face 4 minutes of stoppage time. The snow is now coming down in that big ass fat flake style. I am likely frost bitten on my toes - I care not. Birmingham continues the assualt on the Hoops goal. With each shot and flying cross, I inhale, hold breath, only to release once I see the small white ball bounce towards half field. The crowd was the 11th man, the chants had the place rocking. Every effort was applauded and cheered.

The four minutes had gone. The Referee surely knows this by the amount of whistles directed his way from the mob. He looks at his watch, but fails to put the whistle to his lips. Birmingham streaks down the right hand flank, a low cross skips across the wet goal mouth. It finds a foot.

Birmingham have now tied the game. If we only hadn't told the referee he was the worst person on the planet for the last 45 minutes. ARRGH! Oh, Hoops. Your love is special, addictive, and agonizingly cruel.

What? Is this? The flag. The flag has gone up! Offside. HA. SUCK IT BIRMINGHAM. THE REF IS STILL A WANKER. The final whistle blows shortly after. We applaud. Oh how we applaud our blue and white hooped troops. New signing (cave man lookalike) Damiano Tommasi collasped on the field in exhaustion. We would have loved to stay but we cold as hell so got the f- outta there and ran to the car.

During the car ride home me and Russ hardly spoke. We weren’t shock, it was just we were frozen, the windshield had fogged up, the streets were slushy, and safety was job one.

It was by far the best and most fun game I have ever seen. Ever. It had everything. Great saves, drama, an amazing goal, a rowdy crowd, and lots and lots of guts. One day, when I leave this tiny island, I will always remember the night the coachless, ten-man Queen's Park Rangers beat league leaders Birmingham in the snow in October.

Election who?

2 years and 119 post later...

2008-10-21T20:45:00.002+01:00

Yep, that is right. I have been in Olde Englande Her Majesty's Great Britland for two years.

*shakes head in disbelief*

Three jobs. Four residences. A gazillion Carling Tall Boys and few other in between.

Funny to think that two years ago I boarded a flight with a belly full of wings, a pocket full of dreams, and a redneck disposition that has seen - a whole helluva lot.

As I reflect, I sit down to my classic feed of a plastic bowl of hummus, cream crackers, and few cold ones...I know what has to be done.

I gotta say goodbye to the blog.

Yep. Let me tell you why.

To be short, I am jaded. I just don't get inspired to bitch/report on the extreme oddities that permeate Britland. Let me explain.

Last Monday night an old pal of mine, Marie-Louise (known her since Sunday School when was 9 - snap!) she was over with her husband and booked a night in the Obama Suite at Chez Redneck. We met, dropped off their stuff and went out to dinner. We opted to take the bus down to nicer environs.

On the bus I went to swipe my travel card to find out I was outta cash on that bitch. So I had to scramble for 2 pounds to pay the fair. No one likes the dude on the bus who boards then holds up the thing because he don't have his fare ready. I scramble, then I start to hear someone yelling/bitching from the back - hate that - so to speed things along a throw a five pound note to the driver. Flustered, I say, 'Keep it - this dude is going nuts. Just get going.'

I take my post standing on the full bus. I turn and the yeller feller is now screaming. At me. He is going off, and is HAMMERED BEYOND A BLACKSMITH F'ED UP. Mind you he looks like 'Mickey' from ROCKY I and no one can understand what he is saying. But he is tearing me a new asshole verbally. I just look at him and smile. I turn to one other passenger and say, 'The bus was a bad choice, huh?' The passenger smiled agreeably.

The story is told because I just didn't get bothered by the episode of another human being verbally accosting me for 15 minutes. If that had happened 18 months ago I would have been on here tellin' y'all how I got accosted by some drunk old man who yelled his dick off at me for 15 minutes. Probably would have haunted my dreams...Now, its just, like anything else.

See? Jaded.

How can I dutifully blog about Nigel and his awful ways when I just don't see it anymore? Now, I am scared as hell about this. What if one day I just wake up and fancy nothing but Brit shit?

What if my internal monologue runs, "I do fancy me a bit of a Sunday Roast with a pint of Pride."

It could happen. Then I am f*cked. Next thing you know I'll be queuing for the Proms and searching for the perfect Stilton to go with my Mince Pie following the Panto.

SEE HOW F'ED UP THAT IS?

Now. I have not given up an oz. (I hope) of my Redneck ways. I just can't see Nigel and his native habitat in the same (funny, hopefully) light to report to y'all. (Plus, I asked a few faithful readers about my blog and they said they aint checked it in a while - maybe the quality has dropped - probably has)

I aint ending thing here, mind you. That shit would be like Brokeback Mountain (aka NOT RIGHT).

I will drop a few more posts. And I will end with a grand finale of some sorts I reckon. Maybe some slam poetry. Maybe a photo montage set to 'One Shining Moment'. Maybe I will run through a Brit Park wearing a full spandex outfit like my Nigel counterparts. Maybe a leather bound copy of all these posts available to you for the introductory price of $19.95. Who knows? But time for last call for alcohol.

Stay tuned.

Lastly, thanks for all of you who tuned in over the last two years. Wow. It was exactly like I had hoped. A sounding board, a way for me not to fall off the face of the earth, and way to keep in touch so when I do see you next you wouldn't ask awkward questions. And a way I could selfishly check the posts to hear from y'all to get a much needed boost of home cookin' in land that wasn't givin' none to me.

It was the best comfort.

Tear in my Beer - October 21, 2008.

Redneck in London, Esq.

One of the Most Redneck Things

2008-10-12T17:38:00.004+01:00

I have ever seen with my own two eyes has to be what my pals Al & Tiff got me for my birthday.

Here it is. I LOVE IT.

Hell yes! A BBQ dueling sword! Next year I will have see about getting a grill.

I am missing Kentucky right now. Big Blue Madness, Keeneland, aint nothing like fall in Lex-Vegas. Instead of watching the Cats v. Cocks I got watch England v. Kazakhstan. ZZZZZZZZZZ.

Lastly, wtf is up with Welsh people? I was having a post work brew dogg with T-Bone when this very hammered - but good natured - Welsh man sat down with us to give a alcohol fuelled Wales 101. He kept going and going, so we had to antagonize him. I asked him who are the most famous Welsh people, seeing a Wales is the best thing happening right now. He said, 'Thomas Jefferson'. I disagreed offering that Thomas Jefferson was probably born in Virginia. We agreed to disagree. I kept on the point as there have been tons of notable English people (Shakespeare, Issac Newton, John lennon) and notable Scottish folks (Adam Smith, Robert Burns) - but I did not know any famous Welshies.

After lots of thinking - he came out with only one, a true gem.

The Goins On

2008-10-01T20:02:00.003+01:00

Howdy y'all,

Sorry it has been a while, Lord, I have been busy. Here is a recap...

BIRTHDAY: I had a great time turning 29. The Geordie Lass took me to go see some country music on my actual day - that was awesome. We saw some dude named Hayes Carll and his got himself a country diddy about his woman leavin' him for Jesus, and if he sees him, Jesus gonna wish he was dead. Ahh...

I then celebrated with my peeps on a drrty good Saturday night. Let's just say on the night bus home I had stripped down to my wife-beater and was rattlin' off some pretty sweet Slam Poetry. I am sure the rest of the passengers appreciated it.

However, my dawgs the SUPER HOOPS crapped the bed on my birthday game. The lost to Derby County (still can't bring myself to pronounce it Darby) 0-2, handing Derby their first away win in 17 months. Stay classy, Hoops.

T-BONE: Done and got himself a job! He had the summer I had last year, and some. So it is good that boy got himself employed. Now he can buy me the first round. Snap!

JOB: The job is still new and I am still learnin' what is up. But the folks are nice (got baked a cake on my birthday and given a book - how nice is that?). The job has even taken me up to Manchester and Birmingham for the Labour and Conservative party conferences, respectively.

It was cool to see two new Britland cities. I liked Manchester better than B-ham, but what can you really say about spending two days somewhere when the majority of the time you were in hotels.

However, both populations have very bizarre takes on the Brit-Accent. Though I did get to see all the stars of British politics, which is like seeing the stars of the Canadian Football League, if you don't really follow it - you'd never see 'em coming.

That is about all I got. I can't believe it is October.

Next I gotta send off my application to renew my work permit. Should be all good. In three weeks, I will have been here two years. W. T. F. ?

Lastly, hang in there with the credit crisis and all that. I don't want to come back and see all y'all living in cardboard boxes out by the interstate huntin' deer for food. Buy it low and sell it high, that is what Leonard always said.

Jigga Wha?

2008-09-17T21:07:00.002+01:00

Yo!

Sorry for the delay in them posts. I started a new job on Monday and I am gettin up to speed with that. Of course, bad form to blog from work on yer first week.

Nothing real to report. Playin' it straight and keepin' my nose clean. Reckon I'll get up to something more rambunctious over the weekend.

Until then - never count your money while you're sittin' at the table.

RNXXXX

The Key to Victory in November

2008-09-09T14:42:00.001+01:00

Last Night

2008-09-08T11:33:00.002+01:00

I made some chicken wings...

This morning...I cleared out an entire Tube carriage with smelly farts...

Duller than 1942

2008-09-04T11:51:00.002+01:00

This month is also expected to be one of the dullest since sunshine records began in 1929. The national average of 96.3 sunshine hours up to August 26 is already 40 per cent below the month’s average. The previous dullest August was in 1942, with 111.4 hours.

wtf?

You know you are in trouble when the country you live in keeps "Sunshine Records".

They love it here too

2008-09-03T10:42:00.000+01:00

Speechless.

Cliche, but I wanted to kill someone

2008-08-29T16:21:00.002+01:00

I think to blog about adventures in a big ol' place is a little cliche. To then bitch about its public transportation is super cliche - but I don't give a **** for I was super pissed about this. Sorry in advance.

So, this morning. I wake up. I wake up early to catch the bus so I don't have to endure a 45 minute journey on the tube underground in the special rolling pottery easy-bake oven kilns on the way to work. The bus takes longer, but does not cook you.

I wait at the bus stop. I wait. I wait. Other buses go by. Not my bus. Another bus, not my bus. For 30 minutes. I am raging. Why the hell did I wake up early? For wait? To stand outside in drizzle? This sucks. Where the hell is the freakin' bus?!??! It never comes. I now, to get to work on time, have to take the infernoground tube system but without the extra sleep and wasting 30 minutes.

When I get to work I bitch about this, someone points out there is a bus strike today. F' me running.

I check in the interwebs and find:

Planned First bus strike on Friday 29 August 2008
28 August 2008

First bus drivers and supervisors may be (MAY BE? HOW ABOUT: MOST DEFINITELY THE F*CK ARE) holding a 24 hour strike beginning at 03:00 on Friday 29 August 2008. Talks have been taking place between First and the trade union, Unite, over the 2008 pay settlement.

First operates 94 bus routes across London, operating out of the following garages:

Alperton
Dagenham
Greenford
Hayes
Lea Interchange
Northumberland Park
Uxbridge
Westbourne Park
Willesden Junction
Transport for London (TfL) is working to keep passenger disruption to a minimum (YOU ARE ALL A JOKE AND YOUR CHILDREN ARE UGLY), and we would ask that passengers check their route and listen to media travel updates before they travel on Friday.

Where possible, we would advise passengers to use alternative means of transport. (NO F*CKING SHIT, SHERLOCK - MAYBE SOME OF YOUR GOLD MEDAL SAILORS OR CYCLISTS COULD COME GET ME)

Passenger information will be provided by TfL through a number of channels, namely:

Countdown - a message will be displayed on Countdown signs at affected bus stops this evening (Thursday 28 August), to give passengers advance warning of tomorrow's strike, and will be displayed all day tomorrow (NOPE, DIDN'T HAPPEN)

Publicity - signs will be displayed at bus stops, shelters and stations (NOPE, NO SIGN. NOTHING. IF WAS AN OLD LADY ON THE WAY TO THE DOCTOR I'D BE DEAD FROM WAITING FOR A GHOST BUS THAT NEVER COMES)

Travel information - customers can contact our travel information team by phone on 020 7222 1234 for up-to-date information and advice on alternative means of transport. As lines are likely to be busy, we advise customers with internet access to check for real time travel information on the TfL website, tfl.gov.uk, or visit our online journeyplanner at tfl.gov.uk/journeyplanner(I WILL KILL YOU)

Additional staff - extra staff members will be out on the network tomorrow, concentrating on the busiest stations and stops, to offer advice and guidance to passengers. Where possible, staff will be driving along bus routes with no service to offer advice to passengers (I WILL KILL ALL ADDITIONAL STAFF BY FEEDING THEM TO RENEGADE DONKEY/CROCIDILE HYBRIDS SHOULD THEY MAKE THEMSELVES KNOWN)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes to editors:

The following bus routes may be affected by the strike action:

East London: 58, 67, 91, 150, 165, 179, 191, 193, 212, 215, 231, 236, 252, 259, 299, 308, 309, 323, 339, 341, 357, 365, 370D, 385, 389, 399, 476, 488, 498, 616, 646, 649, 650, 652, 656, 679, 686, 692, 699, 953, 958, D6, D7, D8, RV1, W6, W10, W11 and W12
Night route: N91

Exciting News

2008-08-24T10:56:00.002+01:00

This Redneck done and gone got himself a brand new job! A good job. A good company. An exciting job.

What a difference a year makes. Last summer I couldn't suck a you-know-what to get a job. Now, I gots people making ME offers.

It is super vindicating and satisfying. It all means I will be here in London for a while yet. The Redneck is on the Rise. Look the hell out.

I'm off to northern France with the Geordie Lass for a few days - we gonna celebrate avec champagne avec fromage, etc. No word from Sandra Pay, though. Don't forget your keys.

Redneck

Summer of 2008

xxxxx

Friday Fun with tha Filmz

2008-08-22T16:45:00.002+01:00

I ran into this guy a few weeks ago. What was he trying to tell me? What was he trying to say? Was he trying to warn us all of impending alien invasion doom? Did he lose his keys? It keeps me awake at night. It haunts me. What do you think?

The 12,000 calorie post

2008-08-21T13:35:00.002+01:00

When I woke up Tuesday morning, my skin was steamin' hot but all the while I was shakin' like a pistol in a young man's hands. I was sicker'en a dog. Nasty fever. Nasty fever dreams. At one point I convinced myself that I had somehow messed up the chance of one the Great British athletes at the Olympics and The Sun had started a campaign to deport me. It took me a while, in my state, to realize it was just a dream.

The next day, I finally roze from my sweaty bed about 4 pm to grab some pain killers and a thermometer. My aching body finally drug my ass home and a popped that thermometer in to see the damage. It was one of those electric jobbies, so after one minute under the tongue it gives ya a little beep-beep to let you know it is ready. I extract the wand out my mouth and it reads:

37.8 C

DAMN YOU, BRITLAND.

I mean, duh, of course, it would have been in Celsius, but I was sick and wasn't thinkin' clearly.

At this point I have make my aching bones rise from bed to get on the interwebs to Google, 'Celsius Fahrenheit converter' - what a pain.

After two days of sweats, chills, and other anal evacuations I made it back to work today. Before I go, I got a few things to share:

1. This is what happens when a Nigel tries to rock it like a True American Hero. (thx to BRN for that tip)

2. Big shout out to my man Tyson Gay (the 'Merican Sprinter from my hometown, we even went to the same high school) who failed to make the final of the 100 meter dash. The BBC interviewed him (something y'all at home didn't see) after his semi-final race where he finish 5th by two nano-seconds and he was so upset. As he choked back tears, with lips trembling and his unmistakable Kentucky-soaked voice breaking, he said he just didn't have it today (didn't blame his past injury or anything else) and he was upset because he disappointed his family that came all the way from Lexington to China and he didn't do his best.

I know what must have meant to have his family all the way there. Not too many (none, in fact) Lafayette Grads go to the Olympics (some might be in Chinese jails though). Just know, Tyson, you are my dawg! Lex-Vegas, and the Redneck in London, is Proud of you.

(As I type this Geordie Lass texts me to say Tyson just dropped the baton on the 400 relay). D'oh, Tyson, you are not helping!

Still proud of you and I will look after you in London in four years. Gold fest, baby.

3.) Lastly, check the blog tomorrow (or Saturday) for a big announcement...

Olympic Fever

2008-08-13T15:05:00.002+01:00

Y'all,

Been watchin' them 'Lympex? Good stuff, huh? I am glad to see the USA kickin' fightin' the freedoms across the courts and the pools. I got watch the first USA basketball game vs. China. It was good to watch the US dunk all over the Chinese, but my channel, of course, had Brit commentators.

"My word! Kobe (pronounced as if rhyming with 'globe') Bryant converts yet another slamming dunk!"

These guys were awful. They had a hard time distinguishing between a double-dribble and a foul. Aww, Bless.

The Brits have won two medals (both in swimming) that don't involve transport in/by something else (cycling, rowing, canoeing). This got me thinkin' - What sports would the Brits win if they were included in the next summer games in London in 2012?

I'll kick it off...

1) Text- messaging

2) Binge Drinking (close one with the Aussies!!)

3) Not sweating while wearing a coat, scarves, and gloves on the tube

What you got? Best idea wins a prize.

Iz zis ze best I can expect?

2008-08-08T10:57:00.003+01:00

Happy Friday all y'all out there on the interwebs.

Couple of things been happening since I hollered at ya last. I went to a wedding in a village called Ditchling. Yep, it was in fact Ditch-esque. No, kidding. It was very olde Englande with thatched roofs and other olde shiz. The local cab company totally HEARTED us as we all had to get a cab from the station - to the place where we stayed - to the wedding - back to the place - then back to the station the next morning. They cleaned up.

The place were we stayed was weird too. Apparently, 'Bed and Breakfast' really means 'Staying in Someones House'. When you have to walk down the hall to get to the bathroom, you are staying in someones house - not a B-n-B, I reckon.

This Monday past was good one. Me and T-Bone went down to Camden to catch Southern Rock favorites Drive-By Truckers play a gig. This too was weird as the venue was full of gay couples from continental Europe. Not your typical Southern Rock fanbase.

Anyhoo, this Dieter from Sprockets lookin' mo-fo comes up to me at the bar when I am buying a round. He produces his ticket, points at it, looks at me and asks: "Iz zis ze band right now?"

Aw. He is not here for the show and wants to know if this is, in fact, the one, the only bastard rockers from the Drrrty South. I say, "YES! This is Drive-By Truckers!"

His eyes roll as if his mom had just asked him to take out the trash, and he says, rather annoyed, "So zis is ze best I can expect?"

Yes. You know why? Because you lost. You lost the war. America won the war and has the God Damn Right to export its Southern rock anywhere it damn well pleases. If you don't like it, then get the hell out my way and go eat some sauer kraut and listen to your industry euro-trash bullshit um-cha um-cha um-cha crap.

Seriously, you are a grown man. The name Drive-By Truckers might have sparked sexual interest for you. That's cool. But, I'd know better than walk into a bar in Muscle Shoals if "Das Gangen Auf Dem Bangen" on some bullshiz was on the bill.

Oh! And the Olympics start today. I secured an agreement with T-Bone to consume one can of beer for every gold medal the US wins. I will take a photo of the medal count. U-S-A!

Ribs, Walls, and Sweat Marks

2008-08-01T14:11:00.007+01:00

Damn, y'all. Where did the week go? I seems like yesterday I was up in Newcastle trying to convince the Geordie Lass that she did want to watch Coal Miners Daughter at the Americana Music Fest. Now it is Friday and I am hitting the road again tmrw - this time to Brighton - for a wedding. I hope the weather co-operates.

It is August the 1st today and the underground series of tubes here in Olde London is hotter than the crotch of some corderoy britches running from the Gates of Hell. Or something.

OK, obviously, I got nothing. Here are some photos. Shut up and now that QPR kicks off one week from Saturday. As IF, you had to ask....

Here what dinner looks like in Freedom-land!!! (special thx. to JC's grrl for hooking that up!) Note: three hands had to hold it up.

This is one of many of a series of photos I took of my Old Kentucky Home whilst driving. Not very safe. But photos will come in handy on grey, cold, dark days here.

This is what happens when you take a photo driving tour in Kentucky in July. What a sweet Redneck photo? Seat-belt Sweat Mark (tm)

Back in Blighty now. Here is Hadrian's Wall (built circa 3 AD) which we visited before leaving Norf England. Scotland is on the left, England on the right.

Britland vibrant, full of life

2008-07-25T16:12:00.001+01:00

Well, y’all, I think I have recovered from my Britlag. I am feeling re-adjusted, last night I was crushing a few tall boys with T-Bone in my place on the couch watching some baseball – it was like I never left. London had a good welcome back present for me too. I noticed the Hard-Core Troubadour’s son, Justin Townes Earle, was playing in London on Wednesday for a bargain price at what appeared to be a basement of a coffee shop. I went along, had a few beers, and was treated to a night of solo guitar redneck country tunes. When the young rocker announced,

“This next song is about a place full of meth labs, oxycontin, and some of the nastiest hillbilly whores I’ve ever scene – it’s about West Virginia.”

I smiled big. It was great. Pick up his disc if you can.

This weekend I am headed up to Geordie Land (Norf England) with the Geordie Lass to hear a bit more good redneck tunes at an Americana Music Festival over the weekend. Should be a good time and it is never bad to get out of London. I catch the train right after work – you know I got a few cold boys sittin’ in the fridge at work to keep me company on my 3-hour train ride.

OK – switching gears. Y’all know one of my mission statements is to edumacate y’all on all thing Britlandian. Last night was big newsworthy night. The Labour Party lost a parliamentary by-election (similar to special congressional election they hold in the US when a congressman dies/retires).

Yes, the Labour Party have been struggling after their 10+ years of ruling all of Britland. But what makes this newsworthy is how safe the seat was. It has been a Labour seat/district since the INCEPTION of the Labour Party and was considered the 3rd safest seat in all of Britland. I guess this would be like New York’s 15th Congressional District (Harlem/upper Manhattan) suddenly becoming Republican. Yep, it is that bad for Labour here. So bad, this Redneck placed a bet (aka ‘a cheeky punt’ in Britlandish) on the Prime Minister Gordon Brown stepping down from power before the end of the year. Y’all heard it hear first. Britland is going nuts!

Rx

Back in Londzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

2008-07-22T16:30:00.003+01:00

Howdy y’all.

Greetings from back in a surprisingly pleasant and sunny Olde London. I flew from Northern Kentucky yesterday afternoon, but not before Older Brother Redneck took me to lunch at White Castle to fill my belly with one last meal of greasy goodness. Lord, I ate so incredibly bad in Kentucky it was awesome. Full meals of nothing but wings and Miller Lite, several fried chicken salads, sickening quantities of homemade beer cheese – all made of a 10 day binge of extreme eating. Extremely good as hell eating. I’ve got some good photos and videos to share a little later too.

Right now, I am at work. I know one shall not blog at work – but I have to. The typing is the only thing keeping me awake. When I arrived this morning at the airport, I decided to just get on the tube, haul the bags into work and just start the day. I really regret this decision. I have crushed coffee, blasted tunes, nothing can keep my head from bobbing around as catch myself from catching my hea………. zzzzzzzzdijafe;hran.

Did it again.

Summer Vacation

2008-07-08T08:13:00.002+01:00

(Or 'Summer Hols' if you be from Britland) is upon the Redneck.

I am off to My Old Kentucky Home for a few weeks. Y'all be good, get some sun, get'r done, and remember - Tramps like us, baby, we were Born to Run.

Rx

From the Ministry of Bleeding Obvious

2008-07-02T17:19:00.002+01:00

Came this news...

Redneckcast #2

2008-07-01T21:40:00.002+01:00

You know what time it is - time for Redneckcast (c) number two!

CLICK HERE

and enjoy...the American Redneck in London Webcast Number 2. Sorry if it is a bit rough, my fancy microphone ran out of batteries.

Also, take a sip of whatever tasty beverage you be drinkin' and toast this Redneck as this is post #100!

Rnx

Photo Fun Time!

2008-06-23T15:00:00.007+01:00

Y'all - here be some photos from the other side of the pond. Enjoy and look for a new RedneckCast over the weekend. Be good.

Angel of the North

St. James's Park - Home of the Toon Army

Newcastle-upon-Tyne
House of Commons at approx: 7:12 PM GMT

Did someone say....steak?

2008-06-15T17:25:00.003+01:00

Last night I went out for a friend's birthday dinner. It was at an Argentinian steak joint. It was hella good. Whenever I go to such occasions where I meet random people it always goes a little something like this:

"Hi, I am Redneck. Nice to meet you"

"You are correct, I am not from the UK originality. I am from the States."

"Oh, where you ask? I am from Kentucky."

Every other time at this point the new person I just met blurts out: "Like the chicken!"

I now know that if they do not say it, they are thinking it. So now it goes like this...

"Oh, where you ask? I am from Kentucky."

(silent, awkward pause)

"I know you are thinking fried chicken. Thank you for being polite and not blurting it out."

Anyhoo, last night I met a girl named Debra and see wins the contest for the most random blurt when I say I am from Kentucky.

She asks where I a from, I say, and her eyes grow wide and her face light up as she says....

"Do you know Randy Travis?!?!?", in a very excited way. This is unexpected.

I reply, "Yes."

I mean I don't know Randy Travis, but I just had to see where this was headed.

As I said yes, she goes, "OMG! Really!?"

I say yes again.

She then goes, my brother is the biggest fan, he has an unofficial Randy Travis fan page and he is always trying to get him to come play in the UK (which, as it turns out, he has never done).

At this point I have to admit I do not know Mr. Travis personally. But, I did say that I could probably talk to a few folks in Nashville and convince to come over to London to play a gig. In which she replied, "OMG!!! REALLY!!!"

I again have to concede that I am only kidding. She grows tired of this game and chooses not to sit by me at dinner.

But dinner was good.

Thanks to all those that sent me a shout about the REDNECKCAST 1.00101011010101001

It was fun to make and I will have another on here soon. Always happy for suggestions.

RN

xoxox

NOW Y'ALL HEAR THIS

2008-06-04T21:41:00.001+01:00

A new day has dawned up here at your favorite blog.

The Redneck is now - webpodcasting!

CLICK HERE

and it should take you to my first ever Redneck in London webcast...let me know how ya think?

Redneck

XOXO

The North

2008-05-29T19:51:00.002+01:00

My National Geographic Guide Book to Great Britland reads: "Durham has come a long way in 50 years..."

That intimates that it was pretty much a dump and now it is OK for those who worship at the shrine of Natty Geo. I once beat the puzzle game on my cell phone outside the Natty Geo HQ in DC - but that is another story....

Let me tell you....Durham is very nice. It has an OLD ASS (900 years?) cathedral and has big university. Lots of students and it even has a nice little river running through that mug that invites one to take little river bank strolls. I had a beer in a pub with four different rooms, each room had a little buzzer that would call the bar keeper over to bring you a frosty brew. I will have this option installed in my Redneck abode one day I like to think.

The Geordie Lass even took me to up to Newcastle for a pub crawl. Newcastle is about 10 mile norf of Durham. All I can say about Newcastle is - damn - that place is chock full of wild packs of barely clothed women. Less is more apparently in Newcastle - regardless of the weather. Wow, wow, wo - what the hell? I tell you one thing you don't want to be in Newcastle - and that is coat seller. You'd never make it. No one wears a coat. Ever.

We even had a chance to cruise through Sunderland. Now that place makes Brechin look cheerful. Lord. We went to a beach. It was about 45 degress and windy as hell. I was full zipped up in my Norf face coat and there were - I kid you not - children. CHILDREN. playing in the Norf Sea - the damn ocean. Oh. My. God. they grow them hard up there. If you ever meet anyone from Sunderland - surrender immediately. They feel no pain. And they are poor. And they are hard. And they probably have cheap tattoos. All in all - it was kinda like West Virginia.

Other highlights included a full fledged Northern Sunday lunch that was good as hell - I even ate some Yorkshire puddings - which I can't even describe. I saw The Angel of the North and even squeezed in a tour of St. James's Park - the home to Newcastle United. I have some great photos that I will post later - I can't find the little cord that goes from the camera to the laptop (finger pointing at you Lil' Bro Redneck!)

All in all I remain steadfast in the belief that the rest of Great Britland is great. Friendly, calm, beautiful, historic and welcoming - it is just Olde London that is a right bastard.

But - London - gets'r done. For tmrw - this Redneck is going to see THE BOSS at the Arsenal Stadium!!! Standing on the field!!! BRRRREEEWWWWCCCE! Y'all know I am about to get wild up in here.

Details to follow.

OH! Peep this - a Brit friend of mine is in NYC - and is taking a TRAIN - YEAH, A TRAIN to Cincinnati to check out the Creation Museum in northern Kentucky. I will invite him to guest blog here to share his stories. Should be nothing but classic.

Be good and bring on THE BOSS for I am cruising out tonight to face the promised land.

Introducing the Geordie Lass

2008-05-17T13:47:00.003+01:00

I slightly aware my last few blog posts from here in Britland have been a little lame. Blogging about the weather? WTF Redneck? I know, I know. You can stop with the hate.

A few months ago through the glory of the interwebs I went on date. Quick side note: my 'About Me' section of my online dating profile was basically the exact lyrics to the 'Dukes of Hazzard' theme song. Anyhoo - I went out on date with a Geordie Lass and we have been 'adult dating' (aka getting hammered together on the weekends) ever since. Don't worry, she is a little sweetheart. The only problem is that she lives in Clapham. Clapham sucks. Instead of dirty ol' boozer to grab a swifty - there are clubs blarring the mm-cha mm-cha mm-cha flavored with hordes of 22-24 year-olds buying ridiculously expensive crap cocktails stopping just in time to yell out a, 'Shot through the HEAAART!'

There are no sketchy corner stores to go grab a 6-pack. Believe you me, I have looked. These are replaced with shops selling organic cupcakes or childrens clothes or childrens clothes made of cup cakes or some other bullshiz. I guess it is a good place if you like shiny things and like to be surrounded by people very much like you. I still remain steadfast in my belief that there is nothing south of river in Olde Londone that is worth my time. Norf 'til I die.

That may not be true.

The apt. I now live in has been put up for sale by the owners. Luckily, there is massive housemarket crash underway here in Britland so maybe it will take a while to sell. But, when it does sell - this Redneck is gonna have to move. Again. This next move will be my 5th in less than two years.

OK - back to the Geordie Lass. She is from Durham, which has nice cathedral, and which is also by Newcastle - which is full of Geordies. Much like my Old Kentucky Home is full of Rednecks. Geordies even have a unique accent all there own - just like us rednecks. Yes, sometimes we have to speak very slowly to each other. We are heading up to Newcastle next weekend - I have been told to brace myself. I will send a full update.

What else? The Unbridled Demon Pony (r) is now for sale. Let me know if you have a spare £12,995 and it is yours.

I take it all back...

2008-05-07T21:22:00.000+01:00

Now y'all now I be hatin' on that Britland from time to time. Especially, I hate on the weather which I am convinced might a violation of international human rights - to be cold, wet, nasty, short, and brutish.

Well, I gotta tell y'all - the weather the last two days has been nothing short of orgasmic. Full sunny and warm. It changes everything here. People are nicer, the trains run on time - and everybody gets A LOT of drinkin' done.

And not to curse such amazing blessings bestowed by the Brit God of Weather - check this :

Basically just awesome as far as the eye can see. Thank you Al Gore and global warming or who ever needs a thank I just don't care. Bring on the sun and the first nice weather in 18 months. I will spend the majority of it inside getting my work on - and the rest outside at a pub, soaking it up.

Funny how you can live in a country and when the sun comes out - it makes you feel you are on vacation.

Talk Derby To Me

2008-05-03T15:23:00.002+01:00

You should have seen her face when I she looked at the conveyor belt and saw FIVE bottles of bourbon - and nothing else.

I tried to to explain that I was going to be making mint juleps for a party. No matter what I said, the check out lady at Waitrose was not impressed.

Earlier today I went to SoHo and picked up 8lbs of pulled pork, 48 buns, sauce, and pickles. It was heavy and it was all I could do not to tear into that bad boy on the tube home.

Here in a minute - I am gonna start getting it all put to together. Yes, it is my most special day of the year - it is here - it is now - it is Derby Day.

Have a good one.

My Multiculturalisms

2008-04-28T20:27:00.004+01:00

One thing always strikes me when I take a stroll down 'Olloway Road to find my orange Lucozade: there are all types of people in mah 'hood. All ages, colors, and creeds. It is tough to find two people who look much alike. Except Chavs - they all look the same.

Anyhoo - this got me thinking - I have met some crazy different people in my time in Britland, here is recap:

The other weekend I was at a party where I was getting my chat on with a dude from Dubai, a chick from New Zealand, a little bitch ass dude from California (yes - we do wear shoes in Kentucky) and a dude from Moscow.

I really enjoyed talking to the dude from Moscow because he sounded like Ivan Drago from Rocky IV. He had a great comment about Russian women, now say this out loud in your best Rooski accent, "The vomen, they vill marry a man who is just better looking than the monkey." Word, Moscow dude. Word.

The other night at T-Bone's birthday party (where yours truly played the role of that guy - shot of tequilla anyone?) I met a nice lady from China. She was a little hard work because she didn't speak the Englishs so well. We made some chit chat and then my food (tasty chicken quesadillas) came. I offered some to her in that, 'help yourself!' type of way which really means if you are hungry you can have just a little. Communist Bitch then went ate half my dinner! Kidding. She was lovely.

I then felt bad as the conversation was stalling and I asked her if she had any brothers or sisters. She replied, "In my country, we have a one child only policy." That would be a NO then?
Yikes. Run away, run away.

Kind of. I continued to be that guy on the bus ride home where I morphed into my Gangsta Rap alter-ego - MC Fish Fingers.

In other news - the weather has taken a turn for the better here in London and the sun has made an appearance or two. I went out and volunteer on a VERY sunny day at the youth baseball family fun day. Four hours of teaching little Nigels how to throw and catch - and I managed, to come home, with...a very decent start to a farmer's tan. Two-tone biceps, ivory chest, and - of course - a Redneck.

In sad news - the Unbridled Demon Pony is about to go for sale. It won't be the same, but it never was gonna be again was it?

In culinary news - tonight I ate a dinner of Spam, brie, and asparagus sandwiches. With mustard. Not bad.

Lastly, here is something to make you laugh...

What a difference a year makes...

2008-04-16T14:25:00.003+01:00

Y'all. One year ago I was bloggin' away having lost my job. I was stru-huggalin'. That is for sure. It was a long April (and May, and June, and July) - but hey - April 2008? Shoo. This Redneck is back, living the good life and it is the good life from now on. Or something.

The job is still going pretty well. But I do have my eyes peeled, who doesn't. But I am looking on both sides of that pond. If you see any job leads for Honky Tonk Brewmaster/Buffalo Wing Taster in Nashville - please forward them on.

This weekend was the London Marathon. It was pretty cool. I think I might sign up for it next year. If I have a lobotomy, I might. Run 26 miles? I haven't run 26 miles this century, let alone could do it in a day. Plus, Nigels like this be running around:
Yuck.

Oh! Here is something exciting! I replied to two classified ads here in London posted by people looking to start a country band! Word. One guy responded and sent me a word doc (how unrocknroll!) with some lyrics to a song he wrote. Wow. It was like someone had magnetic fridge poetry - country music cliche version - as he just plucked choice honkey tonk nouns from space and mashed them together. I have been invited to jam with this band on Sunday - I don't know if I will go...

Hmmm. What else? I saw Teddy T. again at the coolest music venue I have ever been to. The venue alone was worth a visit. Teddy still dressed like a banker - but he is a Nigel and we can only hope for so much.

Brechin: Shittier than I thought

2008-04-08T17:10:00.002+01:00

Y'all know I came back with a slight sadness that my ancient hometown of Brechin is slightly grim with its whole lack of anything to do but escape mundane existence through boozing it up. Well, it is know giving Baltimore a run for its money.

The headline this week:

Children find woman's head in bag on beach

· Police cordon off foreshore in hunt for body parts
· Major crime inquiry team set up on Tayside

This article appeared in the Guardian on Wednesday April 02 2008 on p7 of the UK news section. It was last updated at 00:06 on April 02 2008.

A woman's head in a plastic bag was found yesterday by two young sisters playing on a beach on the east coast of Scotland.

Damn! That is right where I was, Tayside! Yikes. I knew it was probably smart to go home after that dude tried to 'get my nose'. After some further investigation, the police identify the victim. She was living in...yep...Brechin. See below. Sad story. Another reason not go back anytime soon.

Help for 'head on beach' locals

Two men have been charged with Jolanta Bledaite's murder

A high profile police presence will remain in Arbroath and Brechin following the death of Lithuanian woman Jolanta Bledaite, police have said.

A week has passed since the migrant worker's head was discovered wrapped in a plastic bag at Arbroath beach.

Two Lithuanian men appeared in court on Monday charged with the 35-year-old's murder.

Ms Bledaite had been living in Brechin after arriving in Scotland about 18 months ago.

Hat tip to Miss Red for the info...

Ancient Angus

2008-03-25T13:56:00.002Z

Howdy there - well one of the bestest things ever about Britland is that they make Easter a four-day weekend. Yep, the Friday before and the Monday after Easter are holidays. The Redneck saw this as his chance to get the hell outta London so I booked myself a two day trip to Angus, Scotland.

So Friday I took a train from London to Montrose, Scotland. This was a 7-hour, 496 mile journey which basically covers the entire length of Britland. To put that in Amerispective (c) when I used to drive from DC to Lex-Vegas it took me 8 1/2 hours to cover 512 miles.

View Larger Map

I was excited to travel by train. The Redneck likes them trains. However, the romance of train travel vanished quite quickly as the train I was on was just packed. Not every seat taken packed, but every seat PLUS people siting in aisles and standing at the end of cars. I just did not expect this from Britland. Maybe China, but not here. So, if you had to pee - that would have taken you 30 minutes to tip-toe around the folks sitting/sprawled on down the aisle just to get to the bathroom. I also had the lovely screaming baby right across from me for half the trip.

There were also a couple of Stag Do (aka Bachelor Party) groups on the train who impressed me for levels of public drunkeness before noon. Wow. Basically, the train ride sucked.

Well, I got to Montrose and had a burger and beer and went to bed. The next day I caught a bus to Brechin to check out the ancient homeland of the Redneck family. The highlight was attending the Brechin City vs. Berwick 2nd Division Scottish League footy match. It was classic. Probably about 300 people there. And the Brechin boys won 5-0! Not bad. Though I did freeze my ass off - it was snowing up there!

Other thoughts on life up in northeast Scotland: There is NOTHING to do up there other than get really drunk. I mean nothing. No jobs. No industy. No McDonald's (thats a good thing), no cinemas, no nothing other than about a dozen bars and pubs that try to out do each other with various drink specials. Grim. After the game I went back to Montrose and decided to do a wee bit of Scottish pub crawl and go have a beer in each of the five pubs.

The first one I went to at 7:30 had two guys passed out on couches. The 2nd, when I left, had a guy ask me an undecipherable question, I said "what?" and walked over to him. He then proceeded to do that 'i've got your nose' gag you do with children. He, a grown adult man, really grabbed my nose and everything. Speechless, I walked away.

LIVE BLOGGING: CATS vs. MARQUETTE

2008-03-20T20:49:00.002Z

Ok, here I am - in Britland. It is 8:50 local time, The CATS have just probably finished playing there first round game of the Madness. I could not get home in time to watch the game live - so I have TiVO'd that shiz. It isn't called TiVO here - DVR maybe? Anyhoo - you get the point. T-Bone has just arrived with cold beers and raw chicken wings. We are about to press play on the recorded game. I am live blogging through a taped game - that is weird.

8:55: Me and T-Bone crack open beer numero uno. Waiting til 9 to watch the game. I have on my Kentucky jersey. Other bits of UK gear will be ready if necessary.

Update from T-bone. Redneck has started the process of marinating the ceremonial hot wings. He tells me we have the technology to make them extra hot. It's difficult to articulate to Americans who haven't lived in London just how phenomenal it is to be able to sit at home, eat hot wings and watch March Madness live on tv. The alternative is going to a bar that stops serving alcohol at 10:30 and switches back and forth between basketball and the South Darchester v. Wimsby match of the European Super Championship Barclays Premier League quarterfinal. Thank you Redneck for purchasing the North American Sports Network.

9:23- Game tied at 10 each and T-Bone declares this the best night of his life. Wings are marinatin'.

9:29 - CATS have failed to score since we have been watching. I contemplate unleashing the presence of the Jim Beam 7 years for 7 Championships Big Blue Wax dipped bottle. Not to drink - but just to put in view of the TV.

9:41 - Wings enter Britoven. CATS down by four.

T-bone update: its turning out to be a good game, but mostly because I think both teams are drunk.

A commercial just informed us that the North American Sports Network is Europe's leading network for North American Sports. I am shocked.

10:10 - half time and the wings are almost ready. Big shout out to Lil' Redneck for importing that Frank's Buffalo wing sauce.

10:14 - I just went to the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror with my UK jersey and decided I look like the least intimidating basketball player of all time.

10:19 - F*ck Marquette

10:25 - CATS are losing and the wings are taking way too long to cook. Jim Beam bottle has appeared.

10:32 - Round 1 of wings are out - T-Bone smiles with scary amount of satisfaction, CATS down by five.

10:40 - first round of wings go down. mouf on fire. beer tastes good.

10:44 - CATS turn it over with a shot clock violation - but have cut the lead to 5. The top of my head is sweating profusely from wing hotness.

10:54 - Round two of wings appear. Come on CATS - two minutes left down by eight.

11:01 - Cats down by three with 30 seconds left. Our moufs are on fire. T-Bone says I have the same outfit on as Joe Crawford's Mom -I cannot disagree. Looks like the CATS might be losing this.

11:03 - ANOTHER BIG THREE BY RAMAL - do I dare believe? Harris fouls out. Down by 2 with 20 seconds left.

11:05 - CATS lose. But what a year for the Big Blue. Big shout to Ramal and Joe C. y'all aight.

Well - much more basketball and beer to go.

Be checking the blog for tomorrow I head to Montrose solo for a little fear and loathing in Scotland. Should be quite a story...until then.

Bloggin Back Atcha

2008-03-12T18:53:00.002Z

My fellow 'Mericans and resident Nigels and Nigellas of Britland I apologize for the hiatus on the blogosphericals.

Here is a recap of what has been happenin' and all my excuses that kept me from the blog:

First, I was gonna blog but the damn planet quaked over here! Believe that? Yep, Olde Englande shook the dust off and shimmy shaked. Just picking up those bad vibrations put me off the interwebs.

Secondly, my hood is just straight unsafe. Now I live in Islington, which in some parts (not my part), is a desirable place to live. Not according to my local Member of Parliament Emily Thornberry, who reckons every child and teenager in the area has been mugged at least once:

The MP for Islington South and Finsbury said: "I suspect there are hardly any children in Islington who have not been mugged at some stage and I am appalled that it is a part of their lives.

"If you talk to kids it is the main thing they are afraid of. That's really sad."

oh Snap! I can't be expected to blog when EVERY CHILD in my 'hood is getting mugged. To be fair, I know one 12-year old in my neighborhood - he goes to the QPR games and sits near me - and he has been mugged. So there ya go...

Thirdly, my favorite Redhead from Kentucky, my pal, the Niffer, came over for 10 days. We had good times that involved not blogging. So there you go.

Fourthly, just...what the hell is the matter with this island. Specifically, the weather on Monday.

This is the same weather that diverted the little brother Redneck (visiting Britland on his SPRING BREAK!!!) and his pal to Amsterdam. Lil' Redneck, when I had finally met him in Gatwick four hours delayed, pronounced "I didn't know if Amsterdam was a country, or city, or what! But they gave us a little cake!" Well done Young Redneck - your Redneck ways are strong.

I took them boys to see the Superhoops last night and you know we got them fish and chips from Ocean Billy's outside Loftus Road. And the Hoops even came through with a 3-2 win. Now all 3 Redneck Brothers have been to QPR. Bring it.

More stories to come from Lil' Redneck I am sure. He don't leave until Sunday and I am taking off Friday from work - so lots of trouble to get into. We already visited a pub near my new digs - it is across the street from a prison. We were the only people in that pub. We may not go back.

Til next time!!! Go CATS!! Catlanta!

Blog Fight

2008-02-24T17:17:00.002Z

Howdy y'all. I can't wait for February to be over. Such a dull and duller month. I had a good weekend though. I took T-Bone to see the Superhoops tie Sheffield Utd and we then went out to watch them oooooohhhhhhhhh C - A - T- S Cats Cats Cats beat Arkansas.

Not much else to blog about so I thought I would see if I can pick a cyber fight. So - check this:

http://londonmonica.blogspot.com/

That is just some barf, aint it. I am feeling my blog beats that shiz down wit da quickness. What? What is that? You have been blogging for two years and you just made the washing machine in the kitchen joke? Shoo, I was bloggin that before yo' daddy met yo' momma.

Let's take a look at the MORE ABOUT ME section in her blog...

Wow, check out the dates on the right, I've now been blogging for two years!

So in honor of that, today I thought I would talk a little bit about me because ever since I put that email address up I've been getting a lot of questions that I thought were explained by the sidebar on the right but apparently not. Here are answers to the top four queries:

1. I'm a student and therefore I am here on a student visa. It's the easiest and most practical way to get to this country, short of marrying someone it seems the only way.
Unless you got them dance moves and the mint julep making styles to get a Highly Skilled Migrant Visa like the Redneck!

2. Yes, London is absurdly expensive; yes I struggle to live here. As a post-grad student this year I am sponsored by a pharmaceutical company who allow me a stipend. While I appreciate not going into anymore tuition fee debt, the stipend is, in fact, about 1/5 of what I was making in the States at my proper job. To compensate I live in student housing which I find massively embarrassing at my age (29 years next month). Fire drills aside, it's very convenient as I pay 100 quid a week and have no travel expenses because I am a one minute walk from work. Damn Gina, you got yourself a deal!

3. No, I don't hate America. We were having a turbulent relationship when I left, sure. But 20 months of space have helped me realize all the great things about it, daft presidents, religious extremism, and SUVs aside. I hope you an America have become buddies again. Because America can blow up toxic satellites out of the damn outer spaces with one shot! Now Britland is cool and all - I don't see any blowing up of rogue space shiz. Huh? These colors don't run!

4. Yes I do miss Americans. Definitely not always mind you but every once in a while I long for a loud, pushy, obnoxious, take-no-prisoners type of attitude; sometimes politeness and tippy-toeing just doesn’t get it done. What type of Americans do you mean? Probably the ones not from the South...it doesn't get more take-no-prisoners and pushy than on the tube at rush hour - or the bar at halftime and the QPR games - snap.

Yep. Not much going on other than picking fights with random blogs.

Britland totally HEARTS the US elections

2008-02-14T20:23:00.006Z

Sorry for the delay in posts. No real excuse. Other than I live in Britland, or something.

So, last Tuesday was the big Democrats Abroad Primary here in London. It was madness. I went early and stayed late to help out and volunteer. 1500 'Mericans came out and voted in a weird ass assembly hall in Bayswater. It was great. The Hillary and Obama camps were out in full effect with banners, posters, flags, and the age old political communication technique of being loud and obnoxious. I loved it. There was mad Britland press coverage as well....see below from the Daily Mirror...

"Children sold homemade cookies with the candidates' faces on for £1. Clinton supporters claimed she was the front runner as hers outsold Mr Obama's by 143 to 121." http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/topstories/2008/02/06/the-51st-state-89520-20310820/I bought two Obama cookies. And they wern't sold by children either. They were sold by my pal, who is at the LSE, I helped her hang her sign. Neither here nor there, but she is Carlos Bocanegra's ex-girlfriend. That makes it more awesome somehow.

I was inside all night - but apparently it was crazy as hell outside the hall where 'Mericans lined up around the block to vote in the primary.

So, with that - I live you with empirical evidence that Britland totally HEARTS the way we be doin' that Democracy.

In other news, I have been increasing my attendance at QPR games to a somewhat worrying level. I saw this guy and this guy at the game the other week and I am serious contemplating traveling to Barnsley this Saturday for an away game. Oh quick one while I am on the subject. So, Tuesday night's game was against Burnley. The Superhoops quickly went up 2-0. In their elated state, the crowd took to mocking past England great Andy Cole with, "You're a Wanker, What's the score?" chant over and over again. Well, the match ended 2-4 to Burnley with Andy Cole getting a hat trick. When he finally got subbed off - he made a "what you gotta say now, now bee-otchs!?!?" gesture to the crowd - and everyone went. "Fair play, Andy Cole - we deserved that." and gave him a thunderous applause as he left the field. Only in Britland...

Oh - and I finally got myself a stereo with a record player - Darkness on the Edge of Town never sounded so damn good.

Impossible is Nothing

2008-02-02T18:28:00.000Z

Ok, sit down, grab you a beverage and enjoy this one. It's long, but it's a beauty.

Y’all may remember the very posh members only club The Mom so generously gave me a year’s membership to – uh, about a year ago. Yes, it is the same place where I observed Britainicus Exercisus and saw way to much naked old man. Pale, hairy, naked, old man parts – everywhere.

Anyhoo – the club has an Under 35’s group that meets regularly and does things like antique critiques, wine pairings, and other horribly posh things. But, when I got an invite for the JANUARY RETOX party – featuring an evening to break resolutions and eat hot dogs, pizza, burgers, and drink beer – I knew I was gonna be there. So, I forked over £15 and signed up. The event was this week – here is what went down.

I purposely wore my finest suite and shirt/tie combo – because if there is anything I know about wealthy Brits – its they dress very well. As I climbed the red velvet covered stairs I had no idea what to expect – but hell, just eating a hot dog sounded good. I haven’t had a hot dog forever.

I walk in the well decorated room, dimly lit, and get offered a beverage by the Eastern European staff. Wine seems to be the only thing going. I grab a white and see the buffet. Word. Wordie Word. They had piles of dogs, burgers, pizza, fried chicken, and oddly, lots and lots of donuts. I grab a dog and decorate it. I was the first to use the ketchup apparently. Mmmm. Hot Dog and white wine – in a suite no less. It was to be a night of many firsts.

Very admirably a few folks came over to chat. After they first asked if I was a member here – “Um, terribly sorry, but are you a member here?” – yes, of course – this my first event. I was warmly welcomed and I guarantee they aint had nobody with a Southern accent come to one of these things. They seemed like a tight knit group. I remember names like Olly and Alistair. And everyone seemed to have, what Brits call, a “double-barreled” surname. Meaning, a hyphenated one ‘cause your mama and daddy both have important last names – and you get BOTH, junior.

The chit-chat goes on. One gentleman has once been to Texas . Which luckily helped the conversation along for a while. One girl had an accent so posh she didn’t even sound English.

Then, one of the nice dudes I had chatted with asked me if I’d like to take part in the competition. Huh? Well, what is the competition? A donut eating competition of course!

Shit. What do I do? For you, dear readers, I tell ol’ Olly that I am in. I immediately put down my plate – I could have eaten another dog or three – but – I wasn’t about to get punked out in my first ever competitive eating contest by some poncy Brit with a double-barreled last name. My mind wanders back to watching that skinny ass Japanese kid who could eat 70 something hot dogs – he always had a big glass of water on the table – didn’t he? I grab a glass of water, and head to the table. The contest begins, I take the table with my two competitors. We are now in front of the entire group – a good twenty or so.

Now, these donuts. These were your average glazed things with a hole in the middle. These mugs were tennis ball sized jelly filled behemoths. We 60 seconds to eat as many as possible. 3-2-1.

The first one I consume with short choppy bites slowly eliminating donut one. Double-Barrel to my right is ahead. Donut two – he makes short work of. I keep up, but I am behind. The other opponent was a girl and she didn't really try. I need to step up my game. The countdown begins 10 – 9 -8 -7 -6 ….

I look that dude in the eye like Seabiscuit did Man O’ War.

I grab two donuts and cram them as hard and quickly into my mouth as possible. Impossible is Nothing.

3-2-1….and…I was deemed the winner. The crowd cheers and shows respect.

My God, DO NOT VOMIT. DO NOT VOMIT ON THE NICE PEOPLES THINGS. DO NOT VOMIT. Is basically the only thing that was going on in my head.

I couldn’t even crew – I had so much donut in my mouth. It takes another minute just to get some of it down. They do go down and I am all smiles as the gents come over to shake my hand – “Oh well done ol’ chap!”

Pleased with my self, indeed. I head to the bathroom to wash my donut hands (and maybe vomit) only to find I have a massive splurt of red jelly across my stupid shit eating grin face. Hilarious.

I stayed for a little longer and was even awarded a prize – a free one-on-one personal training session with a personal trainer!

Redneck Pundit

2008-01-28T20:45:00.000Z

Now I have surprisingly pleased at all the news coverage that the BritNewsMedia has given to the US Presidential Election. They are really into it. This, combined with the fact that the new Redneck Bachelor Pad (c) has that SKY cable so I can watch CNN and FOX news - I have been enjoying it.

Being red blooded American, rarely a day goes by at work where I don't asked things like:

"Who do you think is going to win?"
"What is a caucus?"
"What is a delegate?"
"Fancy a cup of tea, mate?"

I have relished my unwarranted, yet assumed, expertise on the subject. Well, if I met a dude from Mars - I probably take his word for it if I asked what he thought of the place.

So, without further ado, I thought I'd put my polling and political instincts to the test and go ahead and call the election right now. So, here is what I be telling those Nigels:

I love Obama. I haven't seen any of his victory speeches but I know that they are truly inspired and that finally a candidate is campaigning on his beliefs, what he thinks is right, and not pandering to the focus-group inspired sound bites and trying to be all things to all people. I was in Boston four years ago at the Dem Convention when Obama gave the key note address. And let me tell you, he blew the roof off the sucka. Now, I wasn't actually in the convention hall at the time either as I was crushing free beers at an event sponsored by Boeing watching Big Bad Voodoo Daddy play live 'cause I was having a great fling with the Chief of Staff of a Midwestern Congressperson. But, I heard it was really something good anyway.

Regardless, Obama ultimately loses the race on Feb. 5th to Hillary. He hangs on a bit, but the media physics of the thing launch Hill and ground Obama. And Hillary, by getting the nomination, makes the Republican candidate (I am thinking McCain) the de facto agent of change and that is what is all about my fellow 'Mericans - change vs. more of the same. Oh, and the fact that every Republican in the US will fight to their death to prevent the three words they fear the most, "President Hillary Clinton."

So, there you go. You heard it hear first. You may recall my call (scroll down past Conway Twitty) of the 2007 final four. Please do in case I get this one wrong.

Now, back to more SKY cable and reruns of American Chopper. I love those guys.

Teddy T.

2008-01-26T00:05:00.000Z

The highlight of the week past was heading to Camden with my dogg T-Bone to see Teddy ThompsonNow Teddy is the son of the famous Richard and Linda Thompson. His latest record is a compilation of classic American country standards done with a slight British-twist (aka no nasally twang).

The show was good, it sounded great, but the Chatty McChattertons from Chattyville were out and about - drowning some of those aw hell naw sweet sounds. Do yourself a favor and check that dude out on iTunes. - go ahead and get that "Upfront and Down Low".

Though, at the show, he was dressed like a damn banker. Come on, Teddy. If you gonna be singin' those sweet sounds - call the Redneck and let him deck you out in a Pearl Snap at least!

Blog Brothers

2008-01-16T22:47:00.000Z

Now, check this! The older brother Redneck is blogging himself! Just like making out with girls, he is a few years behind me (on the blog front)! Kidding. Brother Redneck is MUCH better writer than me and about shit tons more clever. And he made out with girls before I did.

Go on and do the right thing: visit his new blog and bookmark it - then check it several times daily. He be paid per click!

http://www.toplessrobot.com/

If anyone aks you...

2008-01-14T22:00:00.000Z

If you want to play a friendly game of flag football (american) against the United States Marine Corps....say NO!!

Yeah, it sounded like a good idea when my pal MG asked if I was up for it. You know, I be tryin' to fill my social calendar and all, so I was down - bring it.

The team MCG assembled were full of heart - but lacked a certain amount of, you know, fitness, agility, coordination, and general ability. We got CRUSHED ten touchdowns to one. I managed to QB our side to an impressive game of at least 5 interceptions. Staff Sergeant got my ass about four of five times.

The biggest consequence of the day - after a 3 hour game in a muddy Hyde Park field? Pride? Hellllll no.

Let's just say, more than 24 hours later, even my damn eyelids are still sore. It took me five minutes to put on my socks and shoes this morning - no joke. Not sore like you over did it just a little - sore like I had better leave 30 minutes early for work because I ain't getting any where quick. My sweet Baby Jesus - I am in so much pain.

I sneezed today at work and welled up with tears.

As the tattoos on our opponents read: "FREEDOM ISN'T FREE" - I now feel that with every slow burning pain across my entire body.

Now, after the ass whoopin' - we did get an invite back to the Marine House for a few cold ones and burgers. And their fridge? Stocked full of Bud Light, Rolling Rock, and....Miller Lite. I did hear - "Cause I'm proud to be an AmeriCAN" - when a had a brew with a few dudes who have all done about 3 tours in Iraq. Yes, I generally felt like the biggest youknowwhat hearing their stories of life on the front as I struggled to stand upright after a few hours of recreational sport. Semper Fi y'all crazy ass dudes.

With a cold American beer - by the Stars and Stripes - with a burger in my hand - all at once - everything was worth it.

The Marines are having a bash on Friday night - you know I will be there...I told the dudes I'd bring a few ladies - and, with that, I was more than welcome back anytime.

Sweet Footiesoccerball

2008-01-10T21:08:00.000Z

It has been a footietastic last two nights. Last night, I stuffed a few carling tall boys in my hoodie and went to Arsenal v. Sp*rs. The game wasn't that good (1-1 draw and Sp*rs were the better team) but my seat was good. Not a great view a few rows up from the corner flag - but the crowd I was with was raisin' some hell.

I was deep the hard-core chanting zone of blokes with shaved heads and supersized diamond left earrings. The highlights of the chants...

Whenever Robbie Keane (the Sp*rs Irish forward) got the ball or near us - the taunts began: "Pikey!" - "Where is your caravan, you f*ing gypsy!"

I don't know what any of that means but I could recognize that it was mean and meant to hurt Mr. Keane. So, I am all for that. Because he plays for Sp*rs - and Sp*rs are shit.

The most uncouth taunting came when ever a certain Sp*rs player got the ball. I am not sure who the player is - because I don't care what pansy ass players Sp*rs have - but he is clearly of Asian heritage. I am thinking Japenese.

So, whenever he got the ball - half the stadium would yell (put on racist/stereotypical Asian accent before you read this next part) - "You want CD? DVD? CD? DVD?"

This is racist and I don't condone it - but it was a new level of opponent hatred that I aint ever seen before. I mean us CATS fans hate D*ke and Louisville - but we generally stick to calling players gay, etc. To each there own.

Tonight I took the field for a friend's five-a-side team. I lit up the wet concrete under the skyline of Canary Wharf with a goal in the first minute - after that - I was completely exhausted and managed to limp around and put on a decent performance as the dude who walks around for a minute then runs for ten seconds. repeat.

I will not be able to walk tomorrow. This is certain.

Back in Blighty

2008-01-08T19:34:00.000Z

Man, I have done some physically challenging things in my day - but getting out of bed on Monday morning was rough. It was 2 AM according to my body clock and pitch black outside. Oh well - I persevered and made it to work and by noon - I was a complete zombie. And I probably smelled - but not I am not sure why. Probably need to get my post-NYE BBQ retox on. That'll do me.

I am liking the new digs. Like anywhere - it has some kinks. The oddest might be that to run the shower, you have to go into the hall and trip a breaker to activate a pump that lives under the tub basin. It aint quiet either. Like a small Daytona 500 going in there. So loud in fact, that showers are banned before 10 AM because the dude who live in the flat below, asked that the apparent V8 engine above his bed (amplified by a giant ceramic tub speaker boxx) not be activated as it wakes him up. Fair enough. Fair enough.

Other than that - uneventful. I have unpacked some stuff and need to give the beast a good cleaning - then I am set.

OH! The new diggz also has SKY DIGITAL CABLE. Mine eyes have seen the glory! On Sunday I watched TWO NFL playoff games! It has all kinds of good channels. Right now I am watching FOX NEWS (I know, I know) but they have some dope New Hampshire coverage - hell yes - it beats BBC News where they are probably telling us that Leeds Rhinos out of favour fly-half has gained permission to leave the club - WHO CARES. Nigel don't even care - I saw him at the gym getting his row on in his white collared shirt and he wanted to know about Barack.

And - I got tix to Arsenal v. Sp*rs tomorrow night!

My prediction:

Obama 37%
Hill 30%
Edwards 28%

Happy New Year (from 'Merica)

2008-01-02T22:53:00.000Z

2008. It Finally came.

I hope everyone had a good Christmas. I did. I managed to get four items of Dale Earnhardt memorabilia (a travel mug, a calendar, a DVD box set, and a #3 throw rug which may just be the most red thing on the planet). I also got a John Deere hoody which will certainly be a conversation starter back in London I reckon.

NYE was good as well. I cruised down to Nashville in a fierce, but noble, rented Chevy Cobalt with my boy PMcG. We went to the Music City Bowl to see the Cats beat FSU, ate some wings, drank some brew doggs, and danced the night away with them Southern Belles. I wore a tux the entire time (a wildcat tux!).

The first day of 2008 we braved Tennessee's route 641 and headed up to Murray, KY to see some old pals. You know you got good friends when they have biscuits and gravy waiting on your ass. We just beat the snow back to Lexington too.

It has been a damn good visit back to the Bluegrass. Though I do strangely feel like I need to pee all the time. I reckon this is some sort of digestive failure due to a steady ten day diet of miller lite, wings, iced tea, and generally unhealthy foods. I am hoping it will correct itself back in Britland with a combative diet of carling, hummus and pita, hot tea, and generally expensive food.

The pain in my chest has not spread to my left arm - so I think I am OK.

The Last Few Words on the Best Chapter in My Life

2007-12-18T18:39:00.001Z

No easy way to say it, so here it goes: Me and MBH are parting ways.

Yeah, I know. Tell me about it.

I guess you could say that we have decided not to get married. And if we ain't, well, better go ahead and do something about it. Right? We aint getting any younger.

It was the infamous summer of job hunt hell that produced the first writing on the wall. Was this what it was gonna be like every time I moved with her? Hell, if I worked for the damn British Government for two-plus years (and spoke the language) and couldn't get a job in London - what would it be like elsewhere? At least just as tough. And this summer is something I never want to do again.

Then, I will always remember this, in the bar in the Toronto Airport on the way back from Nashville in September - we were talking about it and it was just there - no more 'lets give it some time' - we just had to accept it and act. We finished our drinks, held hands, and put the decrescendo in place.

Sadly, it just wouldn't be fair to embark on what would likely be a life full of professional stops and starts, frustrations, and under fulfillment. Vice-versa - wouldn't be fair to ask MBH to leave her ever increasingly rock star career to follow me back to the US while I get my career on. Now, we both would and could, mind you - but it would result in a half-happy partner wherever life might take us. That ain't no way to live, or more importantly, that ain't no foundation for a happy family. But, I know this more than anything, we gave it one helluva try.

The last few weeks have been very sad at times, but also quite sweet with MBH. With the proverbial axe above our relationship removed - we've had wonderful last few weeks enjoying each other, cooking up some chicken wings, and talking a lot about what the future might hold.

And that future, all y'all, is wide open. Which is exciting. I know MBH will always be a part of mine, and this Redneck will always be a part of hers. And, the legacy we leave with one another is beyond special and more than amazing.

On Saturday I am moving (again, OMG, again) into a spare room in a mutual friends flat (still in that Norf London hood - y'all know I got the love). On Sunday, I catch that jet plane back to the fifty-nifty for a welcome two weeks of holiday chilling with the family Redneck.

When we both get back to London in 2008, the new chapter for both of us begins. I am gonna keep bloggin' because it will be nice for me to feel in touch - and I reckon there might be some funny experiences to relay back along the way. Hell, I might just write that eponymous debut alt. country album that has been on the shelves.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year - I will holler at y'all in 2008.

Silent Night, Silent Blog

2007-12-15T13:23:00.000Z

Season's Greeting y'all. Not much has been going on blogworthy wise. I have been sicker than a dawg as well. So, I went to the Doctor. And was told I need to have an appt with a Nurse first to determine if I am fit enough to be accepted by this doctor. Odd, to be a human and feel like a horse. So - I get to come back with a vile full of my pee and see if I get selected on Wednesday - THEN I can make an appt to see the Doctor. Keep your fingers crossed America - maybe I have what it takes - to get a freakin' doctors appointment.

What should take 45 minutes at the walk in clinic in the US to get your anti-biotics - I have a ten day wait as the sinus infection inside of me grows and steadily makes life worse as the snot gets thicker, and thicker. Ah, Britland. I hear the NHS is good if you get really sick or hit by a bus - but if you get a sinus infection or have teeth that could use a cleaning or straightening - sorry about your luck.

One more week of work and get to get the hell out of Britland and fly on back to my Old Kentucky Home.

Maybe I will get some bloggin in next week as work will be slow. Some things I should probably share.

Expressing Disapointment

2007-12-08T13:53:00.000Z

The British Way

The American Way

Tonight I head out to watch the Cats take on the Hoosiers. Come on Cats. I am going to watch it with my boy G, a high-flying American Diplomat. Last time the two of us got together - at the end of the evening, on the way home - G had enough liquid courage to delivery a fairly convincing monologue to an entire tube carriage full of deer-in-the headlight Brits that the Redskins needed to move their stadium back into DC. Advance warning for anyone traveling on the Jubilee Line between 11-12:30.

Arsenal: The Natural Choice for Rednecks

2007-12-02T15:04:00.001Z

Now y'all have probably read a few blogs that had to with the fact that this Redneck lives right in the middle of Arsenal-land. Straight up Fever Pitch ground zero.

Now, for my birthday back in Sept, I went to my first match. I was pumped. I put on my replica shirt and we walked down to the massive stadium with 60,000 other people. The Arsenal even came through with 2-0 victory. Not much to blog about here - other than it was great birthday treat to see my first big time game (don't worry super hoops - y'all still my dawg).

Over the months I have absolutely drank the kool-aid/fallen for the Gunners and become a fan. I took a stadium tour. I went to the museum. I reckon I paid my dues having to listen to the "Ashley Cole....is a Chelsea Batty Boy..." track blaring through my window (parody of the Lily Allen song) every Saturday morning last season. Now, here, without further ado bcause there is nothing really to blog about, Redneck's 3 Reasons to be an Arsenal fan.

1.) Their Goalkeeper sounds like an element of nature. Almunia. How cool is that? On the periodic table of badass! Iodine, Hydrogen, Plutonium, Almunia...

2.) Their coach's first name is almost the name of the team. Arsene Wenger. That'd be like at Kentucky coach having the first name Kentuc or something. That is just a winning combination and I challenge any team to find a coach with such a strikingly similar name.

3.) Perhaps most importantly - they are the natural choice for any Redneck. Just ask Steve Earle. Yep, the Hard-Core Troubadour himself. If y'all don't know this guy, you should.

New Diggs and the Brother Redneck

2007-11-24T11:08:00.000Z

Ask me how many wing mirrors I smashed off the moving van this time. Go on. Ask me. Hmm. What was that? A question? Well - the answer is none. Snap!

Yep. I have turned a corner in my life. There is no going back. I will now, forever, pay someone to do things I don't want to do. It's brilliant. We hired three dudes and a van. They took all the stuff out of MBH's parent's house - into the van - and hauled up two flights of stairs to the new joint. If me and MBH had tried to do it ourselves - I am pretty sure it would have ended up a murder-suicide - but I am not sure which way.

The new place is sweet and MBH loves it so that makes for a happy time.

The older brother of Redneck and his wife arrived yesterday from the Kentucky. My sweet baby Jesus you can imagine my hangover this morning. It's like my Redneck powers were strengthened by the presence of another Redneck and - well - we rigorously reveled. He likes the smoky bacon crisps.

We are off to see the Super Hoops take on Sheffield Wednesday this afternoon. Mmmm. Fish-n-Chips outside the stadium.

Happy late Thanksgiving. I am thankful the nasty Brits taxed our tea and stamps and stuff back in the day and we were all - Un Uh! Backup of me King George! And they were all - taxy tax tax. And were all like - Declaren' my Independence - what now!?

Today - two great countries exist. But America will put a boot up your ass. Thank God for that.

British Television - revisited.

2007-11-14T20:58:00.000Z

I sit here at MBH's parent's house like I usually do - alone with a few carling tall boys, my git-fiddle, and strong desire to watch something of quality on the TV other that SkySports News.

I thought I might get all scientific on y'all and do a wee experiment. Here is what is on, Wedsnesday evening, 9:05 pm:

001- The Nature of Britain (zzzzzzzzz)
002- Heroes (I think this an American show, if so, it is probably three seasons old)
003- A celebrity show where b-list Brits eat crocodile eyes or something (ok)
004- Some sort of show about a rich Brit who was a construction guy but now he has a yacht and chills in Monaco (yay)
005- Some show with rap music (must be American, see 002 - probably some sort of CSI spinoff - no - NO - it is a STEVEN SEGAL MOVIE (OMG)
006- This is the American teen movie where the guy bets the other guy 50 bucks to take the ugly girl on the date (but, the sound is about 1 second behind the action, lots of lips moving, not lots of sound)
007- the tv guide tells me this is "Drop Dead Gorgeous" (not sure what this is - but there are teenagers in school uniforms texting furiously)
008- "What did you do in the Great War, Daddy" (historical tv - I can dig- but change quickly)
009- No clue (some Brit Drama and I am bored)
010- Paddington Bear eating a marmite sandwich (?)
012- UK History TV - and the screen is totally blank (note: no 011)
013- A movie called "Red Dwarf VI" (I switch before I die inside)
014- "How to look Good Naked" (fashion DIY show, girls...this is your fashion bible, or something, maybe you should consider doing swopsies, or something like that)
015- The guide says NO INFORMATION
016- Blank Screen
017- QVC selling crap jewelry
018- this is a station called THE HITS - they are showing a videos, called "Greatest Pop Bands" (greatest vomit inducing)
019- the info guide tells me this is a show called, "The Unit" (no sign of Randy Johnson)
021- this channel is called TMF and as far as I can tell is like VH1 (note: no channel 20)
022- if QVC has a mildly retarded cousin - this channel is it
023- BID TV - QVC has more retarded children
024- PRICE DROP TV - see above
025-027 (Does not exist)
028- SNAP! this is some sort of show about Arab Sheiks fixing soccer matches...word.
029- FILM4 - loads of commercials, not a lot of film
030- Showing reruns of "Friends" (I'll be there for YOOOUUU British TV)
031- Oh, this is the same movie on 004 - but it tells you the flick, "Ten Things I Hate About You"
032- the info guide says, "G.I. Jane" - but it is the same show as 014
033 - Does not exist
034- Setanta Sports (extra channel you have to pay for - so I don't get it)
035 - yep, same show as playing on 006
036- Some sort COPS like show, but based in Britain, so instead of high speed chases and crack addict busts and domestic abuse action, the British Community Liaison Officers shuffle off the trouble making teens from the Supermarket.
037- SMILE TV (nothing but a blank screen, but they say the party starts at 3 AM)
041- THOMAS COOK TV (blank screen) (no clue about 38,39)
042- NUTS TV (the tv station for lads!)
043- GEMS TV (blank - probably selling gems, I reckon)

and now we go ahead slip up to 070! (no channels exist between 044 and 069)

070- CBBC - I think this is children's TV - nothing is on so I can't tell
071- THIS IS CBEEBIS - see above
075- CITV (blank)
080- BBC News (this is just news, it is all good)
081- BBC PARLIAMENT (live feed from House of Lords! Woohoo - oh wait the screen is blank - but the audio is working, golk - brf - zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)
082- SkyNews (another news station, not bad at all - more dramatic than BBC News for sure)
083- SkySports News (24 hour soccer updates)

And - that is it! Hooray for British TV. Maybe it is time to get cable...

Lastly, me an MBH are making the move to the new flat this weekend - so who knows about the interwebs working there as soon as we move in - we shall see. I am stoked about moving again! Not really at all. But, we all float on.

Ass Exposure in Mayfair

2007-11-08T22:54:00.000Z

Firstly, sorry for the delay in posts...I really have no excuse other than I honor my promise not to blog at work - so HARD - and that I am big lazy Redneck. So - here - in no order is an update:

HALLOWEEN - Me and some friends bought some tix to a charity event in the supa rich area of london town called Mayfair. Now, Mayfair is like any part of the world - if your part of the world had stores that sold shiz like Rolls Royces and Yachts. Anyhoo - we were at da club - it was for real with very posh Brits (posh is american for Rich, Attractive, and Tall). Seriously, I was at the bar and all the girls elbows were hittin me in the neck! You should have seen the bar tenders face when I ordered a beer, I might as well just have mooned him.

Oh - and the real story is that I was having a dance off at the party - up in that club. Ya heard? The dance off went toe to toe - I was bringin it for realz. I then made a move where I made a sudden move downtown and - MY PANTS SPLIT IN THE ASS REGION.

It has been sad before but it bares repeating: I got some junk in that trunk. But for real. I spent a better part of an hour at a very posh and fancy club with my pants split down the ass. No one noticed. Good thing or Bad thing?

AND ON TODAY- oh just f-me in the g-dang eye socket I should not have left the house today.

I arrive at the office. First things first, I click on the interwebs to see how much my beloved Kentucky Wildcats won by...except they got beat at home by a team of nobodies (Cue British Analogy) This would be like Leyton Orient beating Arsenal at home. Yeah? Innit?

That was bad. What was worst is that it started my day - not ended it.

My next fault was doing my job. I went to go meet some clients. And they had a hornet's nest up their ass. And they work for a charity!!! I thought charity employees would be some sweet, thoughtful folks. I had one dude go off on me for a good five minutes about some bull I had nothing to do with!! He was a right honourable bastard. He didn't even introduce himself to me. But, I like to think I got him, at the end, when he was finally done, and I said - "All of that is great - but who are you?"

Getting ripped by charity workers sucks. But, when I left I realized I did not have enough Queencash get me back to work via Taxi. So, I thought I'd save the old company a few quid and take the tube. This was fine until I exited the tube and about half way back to the office - I GOT SOAKED. Not rained on, but soaked. That sucks the most. I appeared in the office about four o'clock and endured about 20 people smart-assingly asking if it was raining outside....

YES IT FRAKIN' IS! As I stomp away squishing and squeeking in my shoes.

The day was not over. Oh no.

I had made some plans to meet some friends after work. They emailed and wrote - Lets meet at the Marquis of Granby at 7:30. That worked for me. Except - yep - there is more than ONE Marquis of Granby pub in London. I went to the wrong pub - in the wrong part of town. 7:30 came - so I called my friends and asked, "Where you at?"

"The pub."

"I am at the pub."

"Then go upstairs."

"There is no upstairs."

"Yes there is."

"No, there isn't."

"I think I might be at the wrong pub?!"

"We are at the Marquis Granby in Smith Square."

"I'm at the Marquis Granby near Tottenham Court Road."

"Bullocks"

"Damn it."

Dinner with Bianca

2007-10-27T16:55:00.000+01:00

You can't make this up so might as well and come out and say it.

Last Wednesday, I had dinner with Bianca Jagger. For realz.

I was invited by The Mom up to Oxford where Bianca was speaking, I missed the speech but I got there just in time for the dinner.

We didn't chat much because we were on opposite sides of the table. When I say, "I had dinner with Bianca." I aint lying, but so did about 8 others.

But, I did share a cab with her back to London and mad the best of the most awkward of awkwardness small talk. I tried to steer the conversation to a place where she would introduce me to her grand daughter - but no luck. After I told her what my job was - the "you might be interesting" meter went down pretty fast.

When we arrived, I walked her to her door and got a smooch on each cheek. How 'bout that?

One Year In: What I've Learned

2007-10-23T19:22:00.000+01:00

WOOHOO! I made it! One year! Yep, one year ago today I arrived at Heafrow to begin my London adventures. It has been longest and shortest year of my Redneck life.

Here is what I've learned:

Washing machines in Britland live in the kitchen. It is now conceivable to find toast behind the washing machine. This was virtually impossible in America.

British people have interesting internal thermostats. Here in late October, it has gotten a wee bit chilly. But the amount of gloves, hats, and scarves - long, wrapping, wool boa constrictor scarves that have come out - would make an observer think we were in the Arctic. On the same day, you see the locals heading to a very chilly nighttime soccer kickoff with little more than a replica jersey and fist full of chips.

The tube not only gets you around London - but also provides a free sauna on every ride. Brilliant!

My accent has changed. I'll be the first to admit it. You'd change too if every other sentence you uttered was greated with, "What?" - So, I now will say toe-MOT-oh instead of toe-MAY-toh - nah, was foolin' - aint gonna talk like no Nigel!

Sp*rs are sh*t.

British Television is sh*t.

British men exercise in spandex way too often and comfortably.

Owning a Mustang in London is about as close as I will get to dating a supermodel. In the way dating a supermodel would turn heads, garner looks of jealousy yet approval from men, and be very high maintenance. Lord, I love the Demon Pony.

Buffalo Chicken Wings were quarantined by the Monarchy in some sort of misunderstanding after World War I and were subsequently banned from British shores.

Brighton has a beach, Bristol has Bridge. Birmingham is a sh*thole. Bournemouth? No clue.

Londoners are pushy, rude, nasty, short, and brutish - folks around the rest of th UK are nice as can be.

Carlisle is a badass town for a killer night out. For realz!

Getting fired sucks.

Being unemployed sucks more.

Going on a dozen interviews and not getting a single job sucks the most.

Eating fish and chips out of paper wrapping with a cold beer outside a soccer stadium is one of life's most wonderful moments.

Rugby is a decent sport to watch. So is women's Gaelic Football.

I don't speak French very well, but good enough to get my keys mailed back to me from a French airport.

Pret A Manger translates to: Food for Girls.

A full English Breakfast at the local cafe can breathe new life into hungover mornings. Full English breakfast triangle sandwiches are the most vomit inducing things in the British Empire.

If you have friends in London and they live on the other side of the river, you can expect to see them no more than 4 times a year.

Carling is the official beer of the Redneck.

Welsh people talk like elves.

No matter what you think, that kebob never tastes as good as you think it will.

Curry is the British national dish. Make mine a Lamb Bhoona or Lamb Balti - depending on what we are doing next and how close we will be to a toilet.

Thanks to everyone who has read this and left a comment. I love getting them. Special shouts to Rikki, Patty, Drizzle, Isprich, Carp, Wayne Newton, Dubya-Z, the older redneck brother (see you in a month!) and everyone else to left a shout on this. I really appreciate it. Over 1700 visitors since March. 1000 of those was me checking for comments.

Now, raise your glass, mouse, or whatever and let's toast to a new year for the Redneck in London. I promise you this - it aint gonna be a year to forget.

Ham Overdose

2007-10-16T21:01:00.000+01:00

Oh, man. I came home today to MBH's parent's house, opened up the fridge - and there it was: a huge plate of ham. Big ol' thick cuts of sweet salty ham.

I had a light lunch and was hungryman.com - I then proceeded to binge on ham. I had A LOT of ham.

I don't feel well. At all.

I need to get out more.

Sporty McSports from Sportsville

2007-10-14T18:47:00.000+01:00

I have got myself some good things to tell y'all - all sports related - but none long enough to warrant a full post - so here is a little sporting sampler platter of the Redneck and his goings-on.

1.) Rugby - I now love it. I watched England win the last two weekends in the Rugby World Cup and the game is straight dope. It helps that now I know wtf is going on - previously I had never watched any rugby action for more than a few minutes. Now I am all, "Ref! That is hands on the floor. HANDS ON THE FLOOR ARE YOU BLIND???? I reckon if I was born a Brit - I would have given Jonny W. a run for his money for the 10 jersey.

2.) Baseball - I used the ol' interwebs and found me a real live baseball team here in London. The London Meteorites! Word. I emailed them about volunteer coaching opportunities with their youth teams. GAME ON. I met with them over the weekend. And Coach Redneck will be soon be teaching youngsters how to scratch their crotch and spit 'bacca juice just like the best of the best.

3.) Footy - Mark it. Monday, October 6th - I ARRRIVED in London. Why? Cuz that is the day I found myself in the MEMBERS ONLY bar at Loftus Road where me and Niomi Campbell saw the Hoops win their first game of the year.

4.) American Footy - I can't help but beam with pride that my Kentucky Wildcats beat the Number 1 LSU Tigers yesterday. The biggest win in Kentucky Football history as far as I am concerned. I can't wait to go into work tomorrow and get all the due props from my co-workers. Oh wait, no one Britland knows or cares. Anyone in Lex got some stories?

How Redneck Got His Groove Back

2007-10-07T13:08:00.000+01:00

One year ago, right before I moved over to Britland, I killed my youth. Stabbed it with a rusty fork. Here is how it happened: I had purchased two tickets to go see one of my fav bands - Old Crow Medicine Show. The tickets were displayed on the fridge for a good week before the show building up the anticipation. The evening came, and I was tired, MBH was tired, we got home from work and we just couldn't gather up the mustard to change clothes and go see a band. Yes, my friends, we CHOSE to NOT GO to show preferring instead to sit and chill in front of the TV.

This was the day I turned old. Make no mistake, gone was the adventurous rabble rousing redneck - in was the suite wearing, clean cut, sitcom watching, musn't stay out too late old man.

One year later - all has been set right.

Me and MBH were gonna go catch a movie last Thursday. So we met for a drink near the movie-plex. We had a quick bevvie and then strolled over the the theatre - that's when I saw it.

LIVE - THURSDAY, OCT. 4th - OLD CROW MEDICINE SHOW. Displayed on the marquee of the music venue near the movie plex.

Awww, hell naw! Tonite? In London? Them? Me? Should we? Yes!

We think about it for a few seconds - I flash back to one year ago in DC when I said something like, "Let's not go tonight, I am pretty tired and it would be nice to stay in." WHOOSH - back to the present. "We are totally going."

Long story short: We got tix, saw a great show and I rocked the joint in my suite and tie. Groove officially gotten back. The curse of the Old Crow - lifted.

Also, the next night was another most favorite status band: Son Volt. It was basically the most dope alt.country weekend ever here in London.

Random Experience #257

2007-10-02T18:51:00.001+01:00

We were in Chelsea. Which is a lot like our hood in Norf London, if you could shapeshift every kebob shop into a posh boutique and every ethnic minority into a cab. Anyhoo, we were there to see some jazz with another fun couple. We went, we heard some jazzy jazz - all was uneventful and good. It eventually ended (after some encores of very unjazzy rock numbers, odd), and at 11:45pm it was time to try to find a way home.

Tube? Nah, that thing shuts in 15 minutes and we are at least 30 mins walk from a station we don't really know how to get to.

Cab? Nah, don't feel like paying £50 just to be driven home on a Thursday night. My wedding day? maybe.

Bus? That is the ticket. We walk down the banks of the Thames to Battersea Bridge (could you imagine a sea full of batter? mmmmm......batter) to catch that old Scoundrel the 19 Bus up to Finsbury Park. This bus route starts and ends in those to locations - we tried to believe we were cool by taking a London bus route for the entirety of its route. Yes, that is lame, I know.

When we board the bus, since this was its first stop on its northbound route, we had the pick of the seats - the entire bus was ours! We went upstairs and sat in that sweet bus shotgun seat right in the front.

Two stops later in as we move through ponceyville - the bus stops for another young couple about our age, looking tired like us and ready to get home. They board the bus and - sit right BEHIND US.

WTF.

The ENTIRE bus is free, the whole thing - this never happens - the bus is always super crowed and to get a sit is lucky - now every damn seat is available and you take the one right behind us?

I know this may sound bizarre. Like, dude, chill out - it is only a bus ride. I know. But, if you boarding an airplane and one couple were in their seats and the rest were empty - would sit next to them? No! You'd enjoy your space.

Then.....

I quickly saw that the redmist was overtaking MBH - so I pulled out the old iPod, popped int those ear buddies and DJ'd her some tunes. Good thing too boy cause that girl in the couple was talking bullshit about how Back to the Future 2 was "rubbish". I heard ever word she said because she was RIGHT FREAKIN BEHIND US.

Editor's Note: Apologies that the best I have is story about a bus ride. I had a tame weekend. Fear not.

PS - can you believe it has almost been one year?

HELL: Frosty, not yet frozen

2007-09-30T19:22:00.000+01:00

Kentucky. My old Kentucky home.

Kentucky is very good at one sport: basketball. However, a cold front has blown over Satan's front porch and the Kentucky Football team (who have been nothing less than awful virtually my entire life) have managed to win their first FIVE GAMES. I remember it used to take them a few years to win five games - not five weeks. And now my friends...

KENTUCKY'S FOOTBALL TEAM IS RANKED #8 IN THE USA.

This is about as shocking as, well, ME, being ranked #8 in the entire US in football. For Brits, this would be like Fulham going half the Premier League season winning every game. Or, maybe like any England team getting past the quarterfinals in anything. Or winning on penalties. Aw, snap! I wasn't even ALIVE the last time the CATS were ranked in the top ten. uhlive, y'all!

Anyhoo - this Thursday, my Kentucky Wildcats take on the 11th ranked South Carolina Gamecocks. My sources tell me that my Soho BBQ joint is showing the game on delay, Friday at noon here in London. Now...what should be the plan?

a) stay up late on Thursday and check the action via the interwebs. Instant satisfaction but will make for a poor day at work on Friday.
b) take a half day Friday, avoid all websites related to scores, go to the BBQ joint sporting my KENTUCKY gear and cheer on the CATS.
c) wake up Friday, check the score, if the CATS win, go to the BBQ joint and behave beyond obnoxiously. If they lose, don't go.
d) none of the above - new suggestions please.

Holler - have everyone over to watch what should be an epic game - order some wings and GO CATS. Keep that scarf out, ya heard?

Arsenal: The Natural Choice for Rednecks

2007-09-29T16:08:00.000+01:00

Oh, Nashville.

2007-09-26T18:34:00.000+01:00

It was like I had been released into my natural habitat after months in captivity. The terrain was easy under my foot. The temperature familiar. The sounds and smells awoke dormant natural instincts that cried out, "Aw hell naw - 'bout time get wild up in this bitch."

When we arrived in Nashville at 6pm local time (Midnight according to our bodies) MBH and I noticed some things.

GONE: skinny jeans, white pointy shoes for men, crowds, acts of pedestrian aggression, public transportation, that creepy person on public transportation with the way-too-long-fingernails.

APPEARED: Giant cars, giant people, giant hair, giant beer guts, smiles, courtesy, heat and sun, harmless friendly banter, air-conditioning.

I left London feeling like I was on the bigger side, time to get back into that gym, ya know? I looked like freakin' the fifth member of Razorlight down in Nashville.

Anyhoo, here is the play-by-play:

We arrived at 6 on the Thursday pretty whooped from traveling 12 hours. We checked in and MBH opted for a nap/bath combo. I opted for the beer/bar combo. I walked down Church St in downton Nash-Vegas and went to a familiar watering hole. I almost walked past the dude checking IDs - I'd forgotten about that. I get to bar, grab the Tennesseean and the bar tender girl came over and said, "What can I get you darlin'?" - I try not to smile like a fat kid in the candy store and order a Miller Lite. Sportscenter was on the TV, Allman Bros on the juke box. Oh, it gets better.

After another beer and some shootin the shit with some dudes at the bar, I head off. I round the corner to and make beeline for.....?

HOOTERS

I am beyond tired and kinda buzzed at this point and I reckon me and MBH need some wings. I order 20 to go, drink another beer while I wait, get the wings, grab a case of Bud Light and head back the hotel. I mush have had the biggest S eatin grin on my face. As I walked, the lady driving the horse driven coach down the street spotted me and yelled, "Ah naw! You got yourself some chicken wings and cold beer!"

I retorted an poignant, "AMEN!" - and walked off to present my girl with the feast of beer and wings. She enjoyed them.

We then caught a cab to the Bluebird Cafe a must stop for any music fan in the Nash where we saw some pretty decent singer-songwriters doin' there thing. About 11:30 pm local time the set ended and we were beyond tired. We called a cab and it came about 10 mins later and locale asked if he could share. Sure, no problem we said. Once he learned we had come all the way from Engeland he went and just paid for the whole thing. Amen, again.

The next day we got our shop on in the biggest mall probably ever built. Good deals. We later did the rehearsal (oh yeah, one of my boys - the beast - was getting married) then we went to the dinner then out on the town. And by out on the town I mean us and the wedding party just tore it up. Isn't it great how after a few rounds, with people you didn't know from Adam a few hours before, you suddenly become amazing pals (i.e. "Love this GUY!")

The wedding was the next day. It was a lovely ceremony that featured the Bride and Groom's dog (Norman the Bassett Hound) in the ceremony as well. He walked down the aisle and stood with the groomsmen.

The reception was in a sports bar and featured lots and lots of ribs. Ribs.....mmmmmm.....Ribs. The bar was showing the Ultimate Fighting Championships which was kinda weird, but kinda awesome at the same time. All in all, it was a lovely ceremony and I couldn't be happier for that beast.

The next day me and MBH went for lunch in the most tasty of places, the Loveless Cafe. Where we stocked up on one last helping of fried chicken, pulled pork, and iced-tea. Has anyone ever thought of making Pork flavored Iced-Tea? That would be awesome.

We flew on back to Toronto to catch that overnight flight back to Her Majesty's GB Land. It was hard to answer my brain when it asked what I was doing at 8AM Tuesday morning packed into a hot, crowded train, sweating my nuts off getting jabbed in the back by some ladies purse. But, I am getting back into the London groove a bit. Meaning I'm getting just as pushy as everyone else.

Bitch, get out my way! Country Boy Can Survive.

Brighton vs. Nashville

2007-09-17T20:48:00.000+01:00

In the next week I will traveling to Brighton, Engeland and Nashville, Tennefreakinsee.

One is for work whilst thy other is for thy redneck pleasureth. I am looking forward to both but a little bit more to Nash-Vegas where I will eat that meat and two-veg, drink that whiskey, and (fill in the blank) all night. Oh, I'll probably eat some wings at Hooter's too.

I am not sure what will happen - but expect a play-by-play when I return back to Engeland next week. When the Redneck turns 28.

27 was Carlton Fisk. Who is 28? Any help?

I'll have to try this...

2007-09-13T19:14:00.000+01:00

Sorry for the lengthy delay in posts dudes. It has been a busy last few days. My pal JC and his BH came out and stayed with me and MBH for a few days. It was great to get some time with some Kentuckians - they brought me deodorant and BBQ sauce. We mainly hung out and ate and drank in the back yard/garden of MBH's house (cuz we moved there, remember?) We renamed the back yard as the Garden of Good and Hammered.

Anyhoo - I am here to entertain - and I shall. I might have to try this move.

So, it was last Friday. Me, MBH, JC, HBH, T-bone, T-Bone's BH and an Intern from Tb's BH's work (we just call her Intern) went out. It started with many, many beers in an Islington pub. We then moved on the Cuban joint to get absolutely more wrecked on Mojitos and other tropical drinks (I stuck to Corona). I was feeling pretty tired after about 4 solid hours of drinking, until...JC passed me a shot of Mezcal - and I was through to the other side - as it were.

After this, the jet-lagged JC and BH went on home. Me, MBH, T-bone, the Intern, & TB'sBH all stayed out. We ran into some friends on the street (why does this seem to only happen when way too drunk and out way too late?) who said we should join them for another drink. Why not at this point.

Long story short we ended up outside a gay pub challenging the pub on the other side of the street to a "sing-off" to Backstreet Boys, "I Want it that Wayyyy.....Tell me Whh-yy?" Hey, it was very late an we all were a very, very long way from Soberville.

We all eventually made it home. The Intern smartly opted to just crash the night at T-bone's instead of trekking back on her on to way out south London at 2 AM.

When T-Bone, his BH, and the intern all got back to T-bone's - the arrangement went like this. T-bone would take the couch and the girls would the bed.

When everyone awoke, the arrangement was not how it was the night before. The Intern found herself in a strange predicament - she was in the middle of a T-bone and BH sandwich. I heard there was some inadvertent snuggles happening in that mug before anyone knew what was happening- maybe some leg draping and spooning as well. You see, T-bone woke up at some point on the couch and must have thought to himself, "What the hell I am doing on the couch? I should be in bed." And there he went, forgetting that not one, but two ladies were waiting.

T-bone said the morning was a little awkward. But, at they bought her breakfast! What a thoughtful, swingin' couple! Hilarious!

And to JC - thanks for the one of the worst work hangovers in a long, long time. Asshole.

Moving House

2007-09-03T19:57:00.000+01:00

That is what the Brits call, what we 'Mericans call: Moving.

This British/American translation might help...

Nigel: "Oi, mate - fancy a pint at the pub?"
Nigel 2: "Sorry, I fear I cannot. I'm moving house this weeks end."

translated...

Redneck: "Dude! Let's get - get - it's beer thirty!"
Redneck 2: "Damn it to hell. I wish I could - I'm moving out this weekend."

Anyhoo, me and MBH moved this weekend. IT WAS AWFUL. Worse than a small, wood powered hot tub full of circus freaks. I don't know why I expected anything but agony as the simplist tasks in London are a pain. Special shout out to T-Bone for helping us all day. Like most things, the move has a story - here goes.

To assist with the moving of the house I hired (aka rented) a moving van. Unfortunately, the last weekend in August is probably the most popular day to move (and hire vans) in all of Her Majesty's house movin' gentry. All the vans near me were all sold out - but I found a place in way out west London to get one.

I take the tube out to the ghetto ass industrial waste land depot and get my truck - it is big - I am impressed and scared. Now, I have been driving in London and Britland for a while now - but always in the demon pony - left hand drive - this makes the ol' driving on the wrong side of the road pretty manageable. However, this vanbeast was all Brit - all right hand drive. Manual as well.

Within 2 minutes of driving off the lot - I managed to knock off the left wing mirror off the back of a bigger truck. THUMP - and it was gone. I have to say this was not cool, nor awesome. Slightly scared of my ability to hit parked vehicles in this van, I pull over - collect my cool. I realize I have no idea where I need to go - I had regrettably packed all our maps away - nothing else to do - so I ask a local. A retarded (literally, y'all - I ain't hatin'). He did not look retarded at ten yards to be fair- but when he spoke - it was on like Corky. Now, he did give directions - I just couldn't understand. I politely listened for a few minutes until he finished, and followed the general gist of what he way saying..

Lost. One mirror down. Retarded directions to the Westway. No clue where in the f- in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea I am at. What to do now?

I remounted the truck and started her up and managed to not hit anything else - and get back up to the Norfside to move house. Word! Although I was sweating bullets from the drive, and not happy about losing a mirror - I made it.

We proceeded to get our move on - it was a long ass day. During the 2nd load we were moving back into MBH's parents house I heard - a familiar noise - THUMP!!!

That would be the sound of the right side drivers mirror being smashed off by a another van. Oh my god. This sucks so bad. The van only came with two mirrors - now both are smashed completely off. (Although, the dude who smashed the mirror off did stop and give me his phone number - score one for the Brits!)

Two mirrors and a lot of sweat and shouting later (whose fault was the parking ticket - of course we got a parking ticket) - we finished and collapsed in an exhausted heap. And - the lesson learned my dear friends?

Whatever it costs to get someone else to move your shit in London - PAY FOR IT. It'll be worth every pence, Amen.

The Dance of the Five Rhythms

2007-08-28T21:12:00.000+01:00

Don't tell any of my old pals or my old man - but I went to a hippy festival this weekend. Now, to my defense, I did not actively seek out the hippy festival, MBH's friend had organized this adventure and MBH bought us a pair of tickets. I thought, when I looked on the website, it looks a bit free spirited (a big set by Dreadlock Alien was on the bill) with it's spiritual healing tents and wide variety of vegetarian koftas (some pita shit, i don't know) - but I thought a weekend of camping (they served beer as well) could be fun. And, the mutha grabbin' sun was out. all. weekend. brilliant.

And it was nice to get out of London - and we did enjoy it - but damn this was some hippy shit. Hey, wanna check out the slam poetry tent before the nuclear weapon fashion show? No.

I did have one moment of oh, where it became too much.

Me. MBH, and our pal The Knife were walking around drinking a beer while the sun was starting to set. We didn't have much to do, I mean the drum circle had ended and we missed the spoon carving workshop - so we headed over to a patchuli (sp?) looking wonderland called the Dutch Spas.

The Dutch Spas had communal hot tubs (wood powered, no less) for festival goers. MBH had her bikini on under her clothes so she was well down for this. Yes, well down for getting into minature hottubs with a bunch of hippies. She insisted. And as the sun started to set, I did what can only be described as a self-inflicted exercise that turned my brain off in some bizarre way. I stripped down to the boxer briefs. I was about to get in the smallest hot tub in the world when someone told me I had to shower before I got in.

Shower? OK, i thought, hippies are dirty as hell - but I am cool right? I went along and then hosed myself off with freezing water. What. Am. I. Doing?

Freezing and semi-hosed off I approach the tub. Luckily, the peeps in the tub before had left and it was just me, MBH, and the Knife. For about 5 minutes.

"Can we join you?" said a voice as we soaked in the nice, murky, warm water.

"Of course!" we all said before we could look up to see who had asked. It seemed rather rude, and against the hippy spirit to say anything but.

Two ladies wanted to join us. One was a very normal sized, I'd say 21 year-old. The other, was I'd say - was not.

Now they were both nice, but once we were in - we all had to basically hug our knees to our chin to avoid touching more than the already awkward way we were. This probably only lasted about 10 minutes but it seemed forever. MBH and the Knife made conversation. Some highlights:

They were in the circus. On a weekend off. All the circus folk come to this. Circus life is hard. But they are all equal. One lady was going to start a retreat in The Gambia, but needed a new exhaust for her car first - her Granny told her that. Some folks in the circus are pretentious and think they are better than others (i.e. not equal). The truck driver's wife is a bad cook, etc.

I looked longingly at MBH with a face that could only say: Can we please leave now? I looked over at some guys (with their wives and little hippy children) getting ready to get in another tub. They were stark naked. At this point, I broke - this was all too much. and I bailed. I am all for freedom and people doing their own thing, but stripping to the nudie suit in front of your wife and children AND EVERYONE ELSE AT THE FESTIVAL - is five rhythms of wrong as hell.

And if I ever hear, "Redemption Song" again - it will be too soon.

So, where are you from?

2007-08-23T19:56:00.000+01:00

That is been a easy, frequent question from some of my new co-workers this week (the job is going well by the way - the folks are nice and there is a free coffee machine). I don't sound like them, so it is a fair thing to ask. I say Kentucky. Not the US. Not the States, but Kentucky. Now these new co-worker Brits are polite enough not to blurt out FRIED CHICKEN when I tell them, though I know it is the first thing that enters their Britbrain. SO, they have to find new things to reply once I say Kentucky.

One new co-worker (who amazingly shares a name with a major US university, the irony is lost on him however) asked, "...so what comes from Kentucky?"

I reply, "Horse racing, Bourbon, and Bluegrass Music."

He smiles, then notes that aint half bad. I make new friend.

If anyone asks me what Kentucky is like, I can just show them this...

I love the headlock dude when he gets interviewed with a BEAST HEAVY tower backdrop. Holler if you've ever got dirty with some BEASTY HEAVY. Or, as we used to call it back in the day, Beast Boy. That blue can was for the girls.

Here I go, turn the page...

2007-08-19T20:25:00.000+01:00

Waaaaaahnnnnaaaahhhhhhhh (sax solo).

The last week has been odd. There is something happening here. Things are starting to feel, look, an be - better - or almost normal. I am not talking about the weather, of course - it's shit, but MBH and I can't help but feel that times they are a changing. Last week was fairly void (anything funny to write about) of frustration, bitterness, and WTFness that plagued the ready-to-forget summer of 2007. Things are even coming up for the Family Redneck. Older brother Redneck just got his ass out of Texas before it - or his wife - killed him. He is headed back to Kentucky to a new start, and a new home. Little Redneck brother just got himself moved into the dorms at UK - he's gonna get himself educated, and try to hook up with some chicks. And me, I start the new job tomorrow. I am looking forward to it. Looking forward to the new chapter here in Londonville. Sha na naa nah, Sha na naa nah summer. See ya around.

free as a bird now

2007-08-10T00:01:00.000+01:00

...and this bird, you can't cha-a-a-a-a-a-ange.

As you know dear readers, the Redneck from time to time likes to share a letter from a loyal reader. This one is ap pro poh, so he we go...

Dear Redneck,

"Now that you got a job, what are you doing with yourself until to you start?"

- Jared, Hyden, KY

Well Jared, funny you should ask. Now that I don't have to spend my days on the interwebs looking for employment, I have been enjoying some well deserved Redneck time. I got the official job news on Monday, so here is a recap.

TUESDAY:
I woke up and went to the place I told myself I would always go if I got a job and suddenly had the freetime. Imperial War Museum? No. Tate Modern? No. Arsenal Super Store? yes!

I went down to the Arsenal shop and bought myself a DVD, A Tribute to the Last Season at Highbury. Word. I got that bad boy and walked home ready for a brilliant afternoon of soccer watching, not before I stopped at the local fried chicken joint for some grub. An afternoon of Gunner highlights and some greasy chicken warmed the heart, soul, and heartburn. I didn't do much after that, except I took a nap.

WEDNESDAY:
I went and had a lovely lunch with MBH. The sun was out and we ate our lunch out in a central London park, along with 80,000 other folks. Not intimate, but sunny. Afterwards, I went and did the only thing one could do when rich on time and short on long term goals: I went to the Simpson's Movie. I was one of 4 dudes in the theatre, but it was mighty fine.

THURSDAY:
Now me and T-bone talked a good game. We were gonna go shoot some hoops (yes, we had found an actual basketball hoop in London) then go watch the TRANSFORMERS (its DOES deserve all caps). Unfortunately, T-bone has a job that is happening as we speak so we had to cut it short. But, we did get to the park to play some B-ball. The court was taken by some local residents playing (GET THIS) soccer (I KNOW) on the B-ball court. When we realized the court was made of gravel, we wern't too bummed.

I then decided to chill in the park and soak up some sun - where I witnessed some bizarre ass Brit behavior. To the left were two women. They were in the middle of the park, in the big grassy part. One woman would throw a tennis ball to the other who was equipped with a racket. The racketed girl would then hit the tennis ball and the other would chase it down - then repeat. This looked like fun for the labotomized, but they kept it up for a while.

To my left was a treat. 6 dudes, well, 6 British chaps, so 6 Nigels. They were doing their utmost best to play a little pick up football (American Football). They were topless and doing there best to look macho whilst pasty. It went like this: It was 3 v 3. One group of 3 would huddle for, uh about 2 minutes - like they were drawing up an elaborate play that involved intricate runs, deception, cunning, and manly prowess. When they got to the line of scrimmage - the quarterback would do a count hike that rivaled Hollywood antics (Yes, I heard a BLUE-42). Then the center would hike the ball, then the QB would start screaming, run like hell straight forward about 50 yards then spike the ball. No throwing, no plays. Nothing. They would all catch their breath then repeat. I watched them alternate this exact production about five times. WTF? British behavior in parks remains a topic I shall have to devote further study.

FRIDAY: Not sure - any suggestions?

Well Hell Yes...

2007-08-07T11:26:00.000+01:00

It happened. It really did.

I got offered...a job.

A real one.

A good one.

It. Is. On.

I will tell you all the details later, but the cork left the champagne last night my friends. I am basically so happy that I reckon I could beat you at Connect Four in 3 moves. How 'bout that?

Here it is, my summer, by the numbers:

15 - Weeks Unemployed
15 - Interviews
37 - Jobs Applied For (Cover Letters and CVs Sent)
22 - Networking Chats aks "A cup of coffee to pick your brain on the job scene?"

1 - Jobby Job.

No more shall I have to look. For it has been found. Found like a Mo' Fo. Word. To the bar!

Getcha Motah Runnin'

2007-07-30T11:09:00.000+01:00

Me an MBH are hitting the highway with the unbridled demon pony for a few days to the best part of Britland, Scotland.

The Redneck will be back in a week, hopefully with some good news. I had FOUR interviews last week - at least one has got to work out. Three full time gigs and one part time one working at the Apple store in Kingston (suburban London). Would you like an iPod with that, Nigel?!

Oh, and MBH turned 30 over the weekend - it was a blast. Some photos coming soon.

Either something is wrong with me, or....

2007-07-25T14:44:00.000+01:00

...there is something wrong with the men of Great Britland. Here is what I mean. Bear with me.

Monday morning I get on my suit and head out the door to an interview. I walk to the tube stop, about a ten minute walk. By the time I get there, I have to take off my jacket because I feel the old back getting a bit swampy. Swampback aint no good. I head underground to the platform and what for the train. Now, the underground in the summer can be a bit steamy but it wasn't too bad - it was like 65 degrees outside, so probably like 70 underground.

I get on the train. By this time, sweat is dripping off my forhead. Gosh it is hot on the train, you know, packed in with 120 other people in a carriage with no circulation or ventilation. By the time I sweat enough to feel self-conscious, I always look around at others. Are the looking at my swampiness? Do I look like the husky kid at fat camp walking up a hill? No one ever notices - but I notice this: British men do not sweat on trains.

I have seen them sweat at the gym, or on bikes, or playing some soccer - but on transportation British men are equipped with a unique DNA structure that suppresses sweat gland activity. It is SO true! Don't give me that look! This explains why I can sweat in shorts and sandles on the train while Nigel McBrit can stand comfortably with shirt, tie, suit, AND coat over the suit and remain with a saharaesque forhead. I look at this all too common phenomenon and begin wondering how he does not combust our melt into a Brit puddle? I sweat my you know what off every voyage and Nigel stands there, cool and comfortable. I hate him the his built in quilted quicker picker upperness.

Now I must admit, I am sweaty dude on the whole. Not is a gross way like I am the sweaty guy who tries to hit on all the ladies, but in a way that "sweaty" is an adjective you might you use to describe me to someone if I hadn't seen you in a while. i.e.

"I saw Redneck the other day, on the train."
"Oh yeah? How was he?"
"Sweaty."

I sweat. I said it. I am proud. I am swampback. All y'all Brits best stay away 'fore I sweat on your pie and mash or whatever you hold dear.

I am a sweater,which in britspeak means that I am a jumper. That just blew your mind, didn't it? Me too.

Dear Redneck

2007-07-19T00:10:00.000+01:00

Dear Redneck,

Mate, sorry to hear - I know it's all gone a bit Pete Tong. I reckon it can be tough for immigrants here, I have seen a few. The thing is though mate, no Londoner likes a complainer. Stiff upper lip, innit. So, first off - cut your crying - you remind me of Sheffield - flooded bastards. Secondly, you have to understand somfink - Londoners want to know what you know in London. In your case, that is - how us Londoners say - fuck all.

Now Billy no mates, you have bloody good experience, you have done some brilliant things, but you haven't done much here, yeah? I know you interned here a few years ago in Parliament whilst pulling proper pints up the Marylebone High Street for some tossers. But, as you might say dear Redneck, "What have ya done for me lately?"

I don't mean to take the biscuit or reckon this won't keep ya from being skint. But, check it - it is a thing, the hurdle that be keeping you from being hired here with me. Sort it mate and you'll be sweet as a nut. And don't be crying 'bout it neither. I got bigger things to worry 'bout. Give us a bell in a fortnight.

Bob's your uncle,

London
xxxxooo

Dear London

2007-07-15T13:37:00.000+01:00

Dear London,

First off, you know I think you are a really great city. Just so cool, ya know - with the Big Ben and red buses, and stuff. But, I need to talk to you for a second if that's Ok. As you know, I have been looking for a job here for a few months. Yeah, it has been tough. You heard? Oh, Ok well - I would really appreciate if you could quit being so difficult about the whole thing. For real, this is getting old. Seriously, who goes 0 - 9 on interviews? I mean I could not have been that retarded or had crap in my teeth nine times in a row. You know what I mean? What gives?

Oh, and what did that one place mean I was not a good "cultural fit" for their organization? Can they even say that? Is that legal? WTF is up with all this shiz? If you don't chill out and tell your residents that hiring a talented, hard-working individual (with the legal right to work - snap!) that does not necessarily conform to their British paradigms is OK - I am gonna off on one. Redneck style. I understand I am not British and you thought you would hire a Brit - but I can add value. New perspectives and stuff. STOP BEING SO PAROCHIAL.

Now, I don't need a super fancy awesome job. Just a job. Something slightly challenging that pays enough to meet the rent. That is not too much to ask is it? Come on, help me out on this one. We've been through so much! Remember that time that old lady kept moving her hand to touch my butt on the crowded bus? Haha - I know! Yeah, the one that went about 100 yards in 15 minutes, it was so hot in there in too! Hilarious. Oh! And remember all those days I ate pita bread and hummus for every meal to save money....that was soooo funny! Well, talk to you soon.

BFF,

Redneck
xoxo

Sandra Pay Pics

2007-07-12T13:29:00.001+01:00

Sandra Pay?

2007-07-11T12:50:00.000+01:00

I had no idea where we were going. All I knew was MBH had booked some flights to France and we were going there for the weekend with a few friends, one of whom had a some sort of beach house that we'd be staying in. MBH is too busy to remember too many details, so I just went along for the ride. It will be nice to get out of London, I thought. Little did I know I'd be getting out of London to Nice. Yep, so we wake up early Friday and catch a flight to - Nice.

Nice is very, very nice. We got there and we immediately felt this majestic thing called the sun. It hurt my eyes at first, but I got used to it. I wanted to rip my sleeves off, but this was not the Redneck Rivera - this was the French Riviera. I small kid wandered up to me and said, "I see rich people."

Now we were in Nice. France is immediately more awesomer than the UK for the fact the sun exists there. Now what? We were off to Sandra Pay, someone suggested. Cool, I thought, Sandra Pay - WTF is that? I was too embarrassed to ask, I was along for the ride. As it turns out, we Kentuckians don't speak Fron-say (or Frenchtawlk) very well. Once we were in the rent-a-car, I saw the sign: This way to Saint Tropez. Oh, Saint Tropez! Sandra Pay = Sahn tro-PAY = Saint Tropez. I get it. I am uncultured.

Well, it was a glorious weekend of sun, beach, ferraris, yacht, mega-yachts, roze-a avec fromage, dans le mer mon amie. Or something like that. The people were friendly and the vibe was monied but grounded. The French know how to live, people. I'd strike monthly and work .33 hours a week if I had that type of weather, food, wine, and scenary. Go on French, y'all are cool avec moi. Sorry about that Freedom fried shiz a few years ago. Y'all scratched our backs back in the day with my boy Lafayette - we helped y'all out in WWII - it's all good. You even have your steering wheels on the correct (aka left) side of the car. Bonus!

The only bad part was me and MBH went swimming out in the ocean/Mediterranean and...here is what happened...

ME: I don't really do well in oceans, being from a land locked state and all.
MBH: Don't be such a sissy.
ME: Nah, you don't have to swim to enjoy it. I just like to stay in one spot and get my we all float on okay.
MBH: You are a sissy, I am gonna swim out to that buoy, wanna come?
ME: Nah, I am cool.

MBH swims out...then lets out a scream. I look, she panicking. Flailing around, I am still floating. Long story short - she got stung by some jellyfish - three times. One on the arm, one on the neck, and one on the hand. It was not awesome. Luckily, we got back on dry land and local helped us out and her some spray and then put some lemon juice on the stings. I was slightly concerned he might be garnishing her, but that quickly went away.

So, next time you find yourself in the South of France in Sandra Pay - do yourself a favor and stay in the pool avec champagne. I put some pics up here soon...

PS - I left my keys in the Nice Airport security line on the way back. I have spent the last two days using remedial French to hilarious outcomes. But, I the keys should be sent back before the end of the week. Go France!

An American Redneck in London

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