I saw a number posted for a junk removal service the other day, and called it while in the car with Michael. After giving my name, location, and other vital tidbits, the phone girl asked what i needed taken away.
"Well, I have an oven in my yard that I need removed."
As Michael starts cracking up next to me, i could almost imagine the banjos from Deliverance playing in the background. The apple falls not far from the tree, and my parents were married in a trailer park.
I think the only way it could sound more white trash is if the oven were up on blocks.