I went to a friend’s house while loaded and the friend was a methhead. He kicked his baby, who was in a walker at the time and was not injured. I tried to sleep on his bed but roaches kept going over me. He had the classic rock station on and at 3:00 am I dreamed I was Maxwell Superhammer.
He eventually lost custody, for fairly obvious reasons. I’m glad to say he has since cleaned up and his now adult son seems to be doing okay.
Oh, and in order to settle dispute, the wife convinced him to look out the door for some sort of electrical problem, then slammed the door on his head. And there was the odd behavior of the guy’s stepdaughter, who preferred hanging out in my slum. She never told me anything but I was suspicious. Later she ran around the neighborhood calling him a molester and he admitted he’d touched her but said that was just how he grew up (Apparently he’d been abused as a child.)
Driving through Nebraska (or was it Iowa) we saw lots and lots of cars and pickups with Buck OFama bumper stickers and lots of other far, far right wing BS slogans, a lot of it was so called ‘Christian’ and darn right racist. It really got me wondering what the hell is wrong with central USA.
But this really got me - A pick up with the aforementioned bumper stickers and confederate flags and a fake plastic BLACK hand dangling from the bumper by a length of chain.
Not so much trashy as downright scary.
Yeah, even around here that might raise a few eyebrows.
I remember driving to work in Greensboro in the late 90’s when I got behind a late 70’s car. This car looked like it had last been sold many times and was worth about $200. Somewhere along the line, about $3,000 worth of… stuff… had been done to it, none of which addressed the conditions that made the car worth $200. But the real kicker was the foot-high gothic lettering across the back window reading, “BACDAFUKKUP.”
What was his facial expression? Was he smiling or did they just let his face fall into a normal frown? Were his eyes taped open or closed?
She wrapped it in a tissue and put it in her bag before getting out a new tampon and inserting it. She was as discreet as she could be about the whole thing within the limits imposed by doing it on a bus full of teenagers. Only a few of us noticed it and, lucky for her, we weren’t the sort who would make a scene about it. We just looked at each other like “Did she just?” and “What the?” and let it go.
I don’t know if that’s so trashy; in my family, it was generally one of those tools for dissuading impressionable youths from thinking such things were a good idea.
For example, my dad gave me a huge swig of beer when I was seven, and then he and my uncle derived much mirth from my anguished expression and exclamations that it was the nastiest thing ever. Then they said that it wasn’t a good thing for little boys, and that I should go get some milk.
Or, when I asked my grandfather for a dip of his Skoal. I couldn’t have been more than 8 or 9 at the time, and he said “You won’t like it. Are you sure? It’s a nasty habit that you don’t want.”
I said “Yes, gramps, I want to try it!” So what’s he do? He gave me a dip about the size of one of those big gumballs. I must have looked like Bubba Blue with that wad stuffed in my lower lip. He kept telling me to keep it in, while I wanted to spit it out, and eventually it burned so bad that I just spit it out regardless of what he said, and he chuckled and sand “Bet you won’t ever want to do that again, huh?”
Once I was standing on a streetcorner on the edge of the ritzy Toronto shopping district of Yorkville, when I saw turn the corner… a motorcycle with chrome balls hanging from the rear licence plate.
It was all I could do to not point and laugh.
Yeah… it’s a thing. I had a girlfriend once who had to have an ostomy bag for awhile. I was present when the nurse was telling her about how to take care of it and keep it clean, etc- she then looked over at me and deadly seriously said “And please don’t ask to have sex with her hole.” We both nervously laughed and she repeated the statement and added “When someone comes in with an infected osotomy hole, it almost always is because they let their partner stick their penis in it…usually it’s the homosexual patients, but not always.”
I’m not sure if this is “trashy” or “awesome,” but a few months ago I saw The Greatest Pickup Truck Ever driving on a Chicagoland highway. I forget the make and model, but it was one of those very compact pickups, probably of Asian manufacture. It was somewhat tricked out, with a cover on the bed, aftermarket wheels, pinstriping, and some plastic accessories on the body of some sort. It may have had a spoiler, I can’t quite recall.
What I won’t forget anytime soon is are the pictures airbrushed on the tailgate. One the left, the face of Christ, weeping. On the right, a picture of the truck itself.
This guy put a picture OF his truck ON his truck. And it made Jesus cry.
There’s a black truck that I see every once and a while on the freeway. The tailgate is a picture of a black truck driving through a vineyard or something with some superimposed chick on the upper left. On the tailgate of the truck in the picture you can see a black truck with a tailgate that has a black truck with a painted tailgate driving through a vineyard with some superimposed chick on the upper left.
I call it awesome.
In Florida I was once behind a truck with a very well done painting of a cemetery where zombie alligators in Florida football gear were rising from the graves.
That was my first impression as well, until I saw the part about one of the kids getting seconds, thirds…
One of my cousins’ reaction to her first sip of beer was trying to grab the glass with both hands and drink up: her mother took it away saying “ah, you like it? That’s fine, but it is not a drink for little girls, you can only have one sip from my glass when I give you one until you’re at least 14.” This, I consider appropriate. Letting the kid go on drinking (perhaps to the point of getting drunk, at which point the so-called grown-ups would point and laugh), very much inappropriate.
I absolutely think it’s a good lesson for kids - but not at 2 years old and 4 years old. And this wasn’t just one time…he gave his beer to them all the time.
That guy was…well, I don’t think my vocabulary really stretches to what an awful, awful man he was. That was just one of his…habits.
Sounds pretty low-class, but most people don’t get their ears pierced at a doctor’s office. Why would you have to pierce a dog’s ears at the vet?
Well,
Just got back from the hospital visiting a relative. She was sharing a room with another lady. I just saw the lady for a few minutes while she was checking out. She sorta had that serious trashy redneck vibe.
Anyhow, a few minutes after she left, the phone rings and I pick it up. Its a computerized voice. It says “Hello, you have a collect call from (person’s name/real voice inserted/recorded ) “Bobby” from the Big Southern County Jail”. Another joke for Jeff Foxworthy I suspect.
I’m not sure “trashy” does justice here.
Many years ago, during the summer, a good friend of mine and another of his friends got into a game of firing .22 rifles at one another as they hid behind trees on a local mountainside–ages 11 or 12. His friend broke cover, the inevitable happened, the boy was shot in the head and died some days later.
When my friend returned to school that Fall, a few weeks later, he was standing talking to me holding a large leather book bag as we waited for the School bus, when another boy yelled, “Hey, John, what you got in the bag? Bullets?”
Sorta, “Gotcha ya!”
Stripper code forbids me from sharing the trashiest “in the club” stories with civilians, but since this incident occurred outside of the club, the conflict of interest is negated. 
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The first involves a woman named Kimba, not the prettiest lady (or even close, really) but certainly one of the most charismatic. She invited me and my then boyfriend to the wedding. We pretty much knew it would be crazy, what with all of Kimba’s outlaw biker kin, so naturally we happily rsvp’d.
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The turnout was bad for the wedding part, but every colorful character in three counties showed for the reception. There were kegs of beer, bottles of hard liquor, and little to no food on hand. The guests were doing coke and meth right there off the tables at the VFW hall, and firing up joints and Marlboros left and right.
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As the night went on, the crowd got more and more fucked up, Kimba being no exception. The music was jamming, and I believe it was Sweet Home Alabama that inspired this blushing bride to get up on one of the tables and perform a full-on striptease–in front of granny and everyone. Luckily, she thought of this ahead of time and was decked out with a white, sequined thong, and stiletto heels with metal tips. That was one hell of a wedding to remember!