We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I like this song, but there is a story that goes with it. Many years ago my wife and I were over having dinner with another couple, John and Lauri. John and I were commenting on how we like a lot of make-up on our women. Not that they need it, we just like the look. Then we remembered this song. We called the local country station and made a request. As that station played in the background, our ladies hear this, “And now a request from John and Brad for their wives Lauri and Susan. I hope these boys know what they are doing.” The women are now sitting very attentive. Then the radio plays “Trashy Women”. John and I started giggling like school boys that had just put a frog in the teacher’s desk. The girls feigned outrage, but I think they secretly like it. Here is the relevant refrain:
Yeah, an' I like my women just a little on the trashy side,
When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed.
Too much lipstick an' er too much rouge,
Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused.
An' I like my women just a little on the trashy side.