You think the Franklin Mint is a breath freshener.
You think doctorin’ involves mamma’s sewing kit and a jug.
The strongest smell in your house is butane.
Your dog passes gas and you claim it.
None of your shirts cover your stomach.
Your wife has ever said, “Come move this transmission so I can take a bath.” You judge drive time solely by the number of beers you need to take. Your home has more miles on it than your car.
You consider a six-pack and a bug-zapper high-quality entertainment. You think the stock market has a fence around it.
Your stereo speakers used to belong to the Moonlight Drive-in Theater. You own a homemade fur coat.
You read the Auto Trader with a highlight pen.
The Salvation Army declines your mattress.
You have the local taxidermist’s number on speed dial.
Your school fight song was “Dueling Banjos”.
You’ve ever given rat traps as gifts.
You keep a can of RAID on the kitchen table.
There has ever been crime-scene tape on your bathroom door.
The taillight covers of your car are made of red tape.
You think a turtleneck is key ingredient for soup.