My father-in-law gets up at 5 o'clock in the morning and watches the Discovery Channel. I don't know why there's this big rush to do this.

Sophisticated people invest their money in stock portfolios. Rednecks invest their money in commemorative plates.

Hell, when I was in high school, a "drive-by shooting" meant somebody had their rear end hanging out a car window!

If you ever start feeling like you have the goofiest, craziest, most dysfunctional family in the world, all you have to do is go to a state fair. Because five minutes at the fair, you'll be going, 'you know, we're alright. We are dang near royalty.'

You might be a redneck if Santa Claus refuses to let your kids sit in his lap.

You might be a redneck if you consider a six-pack and a bug-zapper high-quality entertainment.

You know, I remember Career Day in high school. I remember plumbers and lawyers... I don't remember a booth where you could sign up to learn how to shoot chickens out of a cannon at the windshield of an airplane, 'cause there would have been a line at my school to do that!