But I'll always be a country girl. Even in a yellow sun dress with a white hat while wearing long white gloves sitting on the veranda sipping mint julips like there is no tomorrow.
And I'll do it by watching my lawm men while they work shirtless and only in boxer briefs that cling to their bodies like they are molded onto their loins.
(takes a drink of mint julip and fans herself)
I remember Loretta Lynn and her coal miner's daughter trappings. I know of her life and her interest in Mr. Conway Twitty. I also know that her form of country music was developed while living in the mountains of America's backwoods. Her music has its place. Dust it off, listen to it, and remember that thankfully country music abandoned that twang for reality. No matter how dripping with syrup that form of country music might be, it is not the only form of country music.
Yet, Loretta, in her life of the living dead era of her career, now sees fit to insult the current genre of country music as if she owns the copyrights of the country sound.
I chalk up her death rattle to being senile and a decade's long hitless wonder. She retired. She should just drag her bones to a permanent place and wait for the breath to disappear.
I do love me some country music - the kind that has wonderfully moved on from big boobed blondes and females strutting their stuff with skirts so short that you can see they aren't wearing anything to cover their snatch. And thankfully men have replaced the vast array of queer hairdos and wigs that made a female country singer look like a skyscraper without a cityscape to go along with it.
For whatever reason, female country singers are few and far between. And for every wonderful one like Martina McBride, there is a howling cunt like Reba. Face it, there is not much talent out there in the female ranks. And the few really talented female singers are in groups like Lady A and Little Big Town.
But I can't help that problem with a lack of serious female talent. Apparently God is not making music with boobs these days. And the ones who are making money are the ones like Shack-keer-uh and the rest of her estrogen rockettes which dress like street walkers and sound like female cats in heat. And that Bee-yonc - she's a whore of the first order who somehow makes sounds while not on her back.
What Loretta is opining is that today's country music is all about beautiful young men in nice jeans that give you hints of the manhood that is lingering and waiting to be unpacked like a Christmas gift.
(takes a drink of mint julip and fans herself and wonders if her shirtless man servants are potential country singers)
Face it, there is nothing more delicious than a real male country singer whose bulge is offered forth just waiting for your mouth to play it like a lollipop waiting for a certain number of licks to bring forth its eventuals...
Yes, today's country music does have a sound that once was occupied by those who sang popular music, but alas, everyone of those singers are now assuming room temperature and that genre has been abandoned by the fools who crap rap and who gyrate on stage like their loins are on fire with one of those stupid cunt (and asshole) pink vibrators that resonate with sound responses.
There are youtube fools who are like Loretta who have their purist noses in the air whining that they don't like country music with a beat or one that you can dance to. I can tell you that my southern belle (earned after almost fifty years of living below the Mason-Dixon line) self has no problem dancing with today's country music men who are just too delicious to remain on one's back.
It just wouldn't be southern to not offer forth all of my deliciousness to satisfy those young mens' sounds and gyrations.
Perhaps Loretta is just lost without talking about lumps of coal that has no beat that you can dance too. I'm sorry, but I'm not drinking my life away listening to some cunt whining her lump of coal is as small as her natural talent to please a man. I knows full well how to make a man sound like a country super star and he can make those sounds standing up.
So, Loretta, take your stank old corpse off to the old drunk bitches home where you should be where no one cares until you bite it and try to convince God that you are all that.
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