Well you can blame Gatorhermit and Magooo for the inspiration to do this story. Their comments caused me to look into the possibility of telling the story of the Hispanic Redneck family in "Don't ask" in more detail. I tried to make sure that no rednecks or bigots were hurt in the telling of this story. Well I didn't worry so much about the bigots.
Reminds me of an old joke; What is black and yellow and funnier than hell?...A school bus full of bigots going over a cliff.
I doubt that there is a single original idea in this story. I admit I borrowed and modified a lot of items from too many sources to identify all of them. If you think you recognize anything of yours in here you might or might not be correct.
There are enough ideas left over to write more, but I used most of the good ones here and will most likely leave it as is. Maybe I will use them in something else.
The only popular subject I did not deal with was incest; because Momma says "...that is a sin and you don't want to do that sort of thing or the Lord will get ya."
So what category? No loving wives, no incest, only gay by reference, everyone consented (sort of), no anal, not much interracial, no to all but humor and non erotic. I guess there is a strange one somewhere that thinks this is erotic.
Is there a category just for rednecks? I guess that would be humor (?).
You can enjoy it or not. I had fun putting this shit down, hope it is enjoyed by some.
Keep the remarks nice or you will be persecuted in whatever method suits me.
Be good and take your meds as required, you will survive. Or not.
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Daddy decided it was time for something different. He and Momma never bothered to get married. I guess, after11 years and 6 babies, Momma was not the virginal woman he wanted to be with. She blossomed into womanhood at over 350 pounds; being a baby factory will do that to even the finest of women.
The story is that they met when he was traveling between migrant camps. He was a fruit picker. His old car chose to die about 200 yards down the road from our place. He was a frail little fellow; Momma pushed the car into the yard and fed him supper. Then she fed him a whole lot more.
She weighed in at about 150 back then. It was mostly tits and ass. Daddy offered to work for her until the car was repaired and the parts were paid for. She kept him really busy for a good long while.
Daddy was the runt of the litter in his family, about 5 foot 6, 105 pounds with a full belly and a roll of quarters in his pocket. Momma said he was more than adequate in bed.
You might have heard the old joke about the dwarf who walks into a whorehouse. He whips it out and the ladies see about 4 inches of floppy meat; SHORTY is tattooed on the side. One of the girls says she will take care of Shorty. 2 hours later he comes strolling down the steps with a big smile on his face, and leaves. 5 minutes after he leaves the girl struggles down the stairs, looking like she had been to war. The other girls surround her and try to comfort her. The Madam asks what happened. The girl says "Remember SHORTY? When he gets erect the tattoo reads Shorty's Bar and grill 33rd and 3rd, Brookline, NY. We serve the best steaks in town."
That was Daddy in a nut shell.
They were a sight to be seen together. He was this scrawny little Mexican fellow. She was all tits and ass with a nose the size of Philadelphia; and she was as redneck as they come. He towered over her 4 foot 8 inch tall body.
Momma took a shine to him and they settled into a serious bout of domestic tranquility. 13 months later she gave birth to a set of twins, both boys. There was no time to call for a doctor; she woke at 3 in the morning as her water broke and the first one slid out about 45 minutes later. Daddy said the first one was going to be named Jose; after his father. Momma promptly spit out the second boy and pronounced his name to be Josb. (Pronounced Hose B) Momma is not the brightest bulb on the marquee. She always took it to be a compliment when Daddy would tell visitors "She is almost as smart as a box full of hair."
Momma was a great cook and spit out babies at the regular rate of a litter every 18 months; all except the first were single babies. She always claimed the first batch was more because they did it twice that night. She was happy.
Momma and Daddy put out 6 boys total; she always wanted a girl but never got one. Each of the boys was bigger than the one before. The first 2 were 7 pounds 9 ounces and 7 pounds 7 ounces. The last boy was 14 pounds 13 ounces.
After having that one Daddy wanted to start having anal sex because he swore he could never get any friction. Momma told him she that was intended to be an exit; besides she did not want any redneck lawyers in the family. You know, lawyers equal assholes; never mind I don't want to explain it. Every time I try I get a headache.
So the boys were named, in birth order; Jose, Josb, Moe, Larry, Curly and Herbie. Guess which movie was out when Herbie was born.
Over the years genetics and the amount of good food we were fed caused us to become some rather large boys. Not just fat, we were large all over and all as strong as oxen.
Momma claimed that when Herbie was born his dick was almost as big as Daddy's.
There was a fellow who had been coming in for a while to gas up and get his brews for the campfire at his lake side cabin; his name was Paul. He had been in the Army for 15 years; then someone decided it was time for Lieutenant Paul to get out because he would never get any further. He went into the reserves and was promoted to Captain a few years later. After 10 years in the reserves he finally made Major. Then his unit was called up to go to war.
The 'poor man' injured his back and had to stay here while the others went away. They had to keep him on active duty until his back recovered; about 5 years later. Then he promptly retired from the military and bought the cabin. I have a bridge to sell you if you believe the story about his back.
He was always asking us boys if we like to go camping, and then asking if we ever woke up with our pants around our ankles and a rubber hanging out of our ass. One day he walked into the store and said "Yes, that is a banana in my pocket. But I am still glad to see you." Jose and Josb kicked his ass that day. He stopped coming inside after that. About 2 months later we saw Daddy climb into his truck and they were gone. This was almost 13 months after Herbie was born. We saw them about once a year as they stopped in for beer and gas. They are always feeling each others asses and holding hands.
When Herbie was 10 he called them both a couple of faggots and told them to never come back. The other 5 of us backed him up.
Life was good after that. We sold enough beer, gas and camping supplies to feed the family and pay the bills. We thought about getting into repairs; but no one wanted to work that hard. After a week we decided to skip that idea.
Instead we decided we would get into amateur stock car racing. We were real good mechanics and loved to drive fast so it seemed a natural. The track over in the next county paid $500 for first place, $300 for second and $200 for third. Now, that was some real money.
We also made a little shine from time to time. Ours was proclaimed the best in the valley by those who knew. Mostly we sold it by the pint; $2, you supplied the container. You left the container on a window sill as you came in for lunch. You tipped Momma an extra $2 when you sat down and when you left the container was in the back seat of your car in a paper bag. Momma called it a seating tip.