Anyone can be a redneck. Redneck is not location specific, it ain’t about hookin up with your cousin, riggin yourself up a fancy guest room using a rusted out old Ambulance, or your coked out aunt stabbing your meth’d up uncle with a pitchfork while your drunk daddy laughs so hard he falls off the screened in porch with no screens in it. Redneck, dear reader, is a state of mind. And it is one that encapsulates the Palin family even though they ain’t from my southern homeland.
So, it shouldn’t shock anyone to hear that when the Palins head home, sh*ts gonna go down, y’all. Now up in Alaska I guess they have some big snowmobile competition er somethin’. Back home we do the Noodling Festival. Different state, different Redneck Games. Well, I guess someone done disrespected the Palin family name and she went all, “Don’t you know who I am”on their ass. According to Alaska’s own Amanda Coyne (emphasis is mine):
A nice, mellow party, until the Palin’s show up. There’s beer, of course, and maybe other things. Which is all fine, but just about the time when some people might have had one too many, a Track Palin stumbles out of a stretch Hummer, and immediately spots an ex-boyfriend of Willow’s. Track isn’t happy with this guy, the story goes. There’s words, and more.”
The owner of the house gets involved, and he probably wished he hadn’t At this point, he’s up against nearly the whole Palin tribe: Palin women screaming. Palin men thumping their chests.
Word is that Bristol has a particularly strong right hook, which she employed repeatedly, and it’s something to hear when Sarah screams, “Don’t you know who I am!” And it was particularly wonderful when someone in the crowd screamed back, “This isn’t some damned Hillbilly reality show!” No, it’s what happens when the former First Family of Alaska comes knocking. As people were leaving in a cab, Track was seen on the street, shirtless, flipping people off, with Sarah right behind him, and Todd somewhere in the foreground, tending to his bloody nose.
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