[lurker]

Rancid W. Hogman
Stump Creek Road
30 mi. West of Louieville Ky.

Home Phone: leave message at Tubby’s Hardware



July 17, 2005


To my Uncle Lardbottom:

I have just received your super-heated letter in regards to my bill.
You said that you thought the bill should of been paid a long time ago and you
couldn’t see why it wasn't’t. Well, I will enlighten you.

in 1937 I bought a saw-mill on the credit plan. In 1939, an ox-team
and lumber cart, two ponies, a breach loading shot gun, a tractor, two $50.00
revolvers and two fine razor back hogs---all on the installment plan.

In 1940 the sawmill burned down and didn’t leave me a dammed thing.
One of my ponies died and I loaned the other to a son-of-a-***** who starved
him to death. Then I joined the church. In 1941 my dad died and my brother was
hanged for stealing a horse. A railroader knocked up my daughter and I had to
pay $80.00 to a doctor to keep the basterd from becoming a relative of mine.

In 1942 my wife ran away with a little jap and left me a pair of
twins for a souvenir. Then I married the hired girl to cut sown on expenses
but I had trouble getting her to come-off. I went to a doctor and he advised
me to create some excitement about the time I thought she was ready. I stuck
my shotgun out the window and fired. My wife **** the bed, I ruptured myself
and killed the dammed best cow I ever owned.

In 1943 one of my boys got the mumps and they went down on him.The
doctor had to castrate him to save his life. Later I went fishing and the
boat turned over and I lost the biggest catfish I ever saw and two of my boys
drowned, neither of them was the one the doctor castrated.

In 1945 my wife bowed out and I took to drinking. I didn’t stop till
all I had left was my Waterbury watch and kidney trouble. Then all I did was
piss and wind my watch.

The next year I decide to try again. So I re-married, bought a
manure spreader, a binder and a thrashing machine, all on the credit plan.
Then a cyclone came along and blew everything into the next county. My wife
cought the clapp from a traveling salesman, my son wiped his *** on a corn cob
that had rat poison on it and some bastard de-nutted my best bull. Now at the
present time, if it cost a nickle to ****, I’d have to vomit.

You said you could cause me a lot of trouble. Well, trying to get a
nickle out of me would be like trying to poke butter up a wild cat’s *** with
a red hot poker. But mister, you are welcome to try.

Politically speaking,

Your Nephew,
Rancid