lol, all right, well, let me preface by saying that my family is redneck is fuck. They live out in the country, and they speak the local dialect

and it is a dialect, not just an accent. It has it's own words and phrases specific to the region, and the language has shifted enough to be considered one

now, enter animal hoarder uncle

he is about my dad's age, around 60, and gay. Not normal person type of gay, but seedy 80's underground aids scene type of gay. He also speaks the country dialect, but with that "gay" accent (sorry don't know a better way to say it)

he lives across the street from my dad, which vexes my dad to no end

he saw that mike and I were visiting, so naturally he came over to tell us everything he knows about europe, which is literally everything ever (to hear him say it, anyway)

but, he came over ostensibly to make sure "this bitch" (my dad's wife) fed his dogs while he is in the hospital the next couple of days

now, my dad's wife is about 5'2, 110 lbs. She knows how to fucking fight, but she is still tiny. These dogs are huge feral angry boxers, some weigh more than her

so, she starts in on him yelling "what the *HEYLL* do you think i'm gonna feed those damn dogs for? I ain't doin' it, they'll keeyll me!"

"honey they won't *bite*, and who else is gonna do it?"

and then it escalated

dad's wife agreed to feed the dogs but only if uncle managed to get food outside of the fence so she could throw it over. She doesn't want to risk injury, but she's going to feed them because "It ain't them dogs' fault they're inbred and wyld."

these dogs literally fuck all the time and eat the pups that come out of the litter

uncle thinks they're feral like that because he has so much wild land and critters surrounding his house (possums, snakes, armadillas, etc) which is true, but NOT the reason those dogs are insane

sorry was talking to mike for a second

So, he lives in a trailer in the country (uncle), that is filled to the brim with mannequins and old fabrics and costumes...literally. I was in there last about 5 years ago and I COULD NOT walk to the kitchen. I could only stand at the door. This was also before the dog population got out of control, and he only had 5 dogs or so...he was able to keep them on chains at that point

he hides the horrid state of the trailer by letting his greenery grow over and completely cover his house and yard

so it looks beautiful and wild, actually, until you get close and you can see the dim shape of a dirty old run down trailer, and then dogs fucking lunge out of bushes to snarl and snap their jaws at you

it's like something out of a movie

when the dogs are sleeping (or feeding, *shudder*), it's actually serene and beautiful

lots of critters, birds (guineas run wild all over the country, in an area of about 3 square miles)

a smattering of geese, some people have horses and donkeys, SHIT TONS of cows, and people let their (well behaved) country dogs roam for miles

plenty of goats, some alpacas

(private conversation)

anyway, beautiful countryside, completely fucked up people. And my dad is pretty fucked up as well but when compared to the rest of that area's residents, he's like a shining beacon of sanity

his house also looks like one of the best ones, his biggest hobby is taking care of his yard and home

so, all in all, an interesting night...I got to listen to a dialect that gives me warm fuzzies, speak it myself, hear the interesting linguistic anomaly that is my uncle, and be a part of hoarder drama (also another one of my weird subculture fetishes)

aww

and some time we should talk about some of the things i witnessed as an adolescent when "hanging out" with my uncle...it's only looking back on those experiences with adult eyes, and comparing them with accounts from my dad and grandma, and comparing THOSE things to what I know about the 80's gay subculture that I actually know the seedy side of my uncle