Wikipedia refuses to post this. I am bummed.

At times I stop to reflect on how ugly, yet how pervasive cultural stereotypes are. Hate is truly a learned behavior.

And so, in the interests of furthering social weakness, ignorance and arbitrary divisions among people, I humbly submit my

FIELD GUIDE TO LOW-INCOME WHITEY
profusely illustrated

1. Cracker.
Similar to the U.K. 'chav' (I know because I Wiki'd it.) Television, clothes, booze and drugs sum up the raison d'etre of the cracker.
Here in the northwestern U.S, cracker culture has a strong mystical (some say surgical) connection to the unreconstructed South and the polyester glam of the 70's. Prized lifestyle trophies include state of the art home electronics, feathered hair, badly pitted skin, tribal tattoos, Chevrolet Camaros with Night Ranger and Kenny Rogers cassette tapes scattered on the floorboards, and a satellite dish the size of Montana overturned in the front yard.







The children of the cracker tend toward the wigga. Behold the future of our nation, muthafuckah.















2. Skank Beasts (Woods-Dwelling)
Gary Ridgeway and Diane Downs: the pentultimate skank beast tag team.




Now, some crackers can be righteous people. Righteous, with really really bad taste. But with the Woods Dwelling Skank Beast you open a whole 'nother box of cornflakes.

The Skank Beast is a shy creature, emerging from its two-bedroom rental only to work an obscure job, commit a few random murders, visit the quickie mart and then return to its perpetually curtained pied a' terre. Even in suburbia their dwellings are surrounded by rank and untended landscaping and frequently sit at the very rear of the property at the end of a lengthy drive.

Despite their pallor, poor hygiene and antisocial habits they are keenly driven to share their intimate secretions. They frequent b- and c-list swingers clubs and spend a goodly portion of their meagre pay on porn site fees.

Like their cousins the crackers, Skank Beasts own killer home electronic systems capeable of diverting international air traffic when in operation. I have no idea why this is, but it is.

Newly re-zoned logging areas are a magnet to the Skank Beast with a jingle in his jeans and a few family secrets to hide. Entire Skank Beast families are typically found pioneering these raw tracts, living in foul, algae-covered construction portables or 're-conditioned' mobile homes, huddled around the television in the darkness of their living rooms watching Pat Robertson while dad furtively fondles the kiddies and mom pretends not to notice.

3. Holler Monsters
Which twin has the Toni?
It is a mystery, but what what is certain is that Spitstains on the right there obviously lost the placental battle. He is almost a Pinto (see below)

The Holler Monster is the feral offspring of the Woods-Dwelling Skank Beast. Raised on incest, neglect, instant mashed potatoes, and endless hours of television, the young Holler Monster roams the hills and 'hollers' ( hollows, or valleys) freely and has since birth. Holler Monsters typically spend their early youth sans lower garments and can be seen standing on a lawnmower peering through your bedroom window or crouching on the side of the road next to a mailbox, a runnel of snot decorating their cleft lips, watching the cars go by and letting the liquids and semi-solids fall where they may.

A Holler Monster is a simple being. He is random, a creature of sudden whims and appetites, most of them having to do with road kill, shoplifting and being really itchy. He is frequently found weeping in the rear seat of a squad car, adorned with zipties and vomit, or crouched next to a newly dug grave, trowel in hand, picture of Momma in the other. The perennialy popular Ed Gein represents the pinnacle of Holler Monster celebrity.

Meet Chris Kemp...one of our own. A genuine Washin'ton Holler Monster. As this photo illustrates, the ability to avoid injury (as in, ' I wonder what would happen if I jumped face first into a big fuckin' patch of sticker bushes?' ) is as alien to the nature of the Holler Monster as is being allowed to use the restroom down at the gas station.











4. Pintos
Pintos are the rarest of the rare, so rare that I had no luck in finding an illustration. However fabled, they do in fact exist.
Oh ok. You remember that movie where Jeff Goldblum was in this machine and a fly got in by accident and when he came out he was all gross and turning into a fly because of his molecules and he started eating garbage and there was disgusting mucus and these wierd hairs coming out all over him and Gena Davis was all freaked out and she wouldn't shut up?
Take that machine, coax these two on the left inside it with a ten gallon can of shortening, plug it in, and what you end up with is a pinto.

Sometimes in nature, two wild creatures meet and the result is a tiny new life. And then sometimes, while roaming near the edge of the dump with a plastic bucket and a pointy stick, two or more holler monsters bearing wobbly parts in the correct combination meet in a perspiring tangle of Copenhagen plug and holey underpants. The result of these unions is a pinto.
It takes generations of concentrated incest to produce this, a being whose skin alternates with translucent patches of bluish tissue through which the underlying goop is visible as it oogs around.* A tiny round baseball head wobbles above abnormally narrow shoulders, tapering to a steatopygic base, the whole effect resembling a pile of undercooked porkchops wearing Adidas.
Small-eared, web-fingered and frail, the pinto is sometimes spotted standing in the middle of the supermarket staring vacantly as a puddle of pee slowly spreads around their feet, although their usual habitats are padlocked bedrooms with tinfoil over the windows, or secret rooms under the garage. Or working at Wall-Mart.





*Not vitiligo, but a true condition caused by prolonged human inbreeding. You see what you can learn here at Rancho FirstNations? And it's FREE!!