Hacked by Hank

I received the following bug of spam recently. It has been quite a nuisance, and again, I'd like to express fake-apologies to those with e-mail accounts that I may have unwittingly infected with this virus.

From: Hank Williams Jr.
thesouthshallcomeagainonyourmom@hotmail.com
To: Nicholas Olig
KL5nick.olig@gmail.com
Date: 11/09/11
Subject: Be my rowdy friend!

Dear Mr. Sucker,

Hooooo-Weeeee! You've just been hacked by none other than Hank Williams Jr. Bet y'all had no idea I had so much computer know-how, but sure as hell, old Hanky-Panky's chalk full of surprises...plus I got some help from a Harvard boy I done kidnapped.

I gotta have your un-subtracted attention 'cause I got an important message for y'all. Focus them eyeballs, will ya? This hack-job ain't got nothing to do with stiffy pills or phony princes from Nigeria. I'm preachin' about the big picture stuff—the brass tacks, people.

You best be ready for some FOOTBALL!

That's right. It's no longer a question of whether or not you're ready for some football. Since I got canned by ESPN, I play by my own rules. I command you to get ready for some football. On Monday nights.

My rowdy friends, if you don't watch football on Monday nights, the terrorists win. Plain and simple. God help us, if we waver in our love of American football, we'll have a rampaging zombie Bin Laden on our hands, and Zombin Laden is gonna jabber on about Infidels and soccer right before he neck-chomps you to death. Trust me—old Hank the Tank had a graphic nightmare about it last night.

A Monday night shindig!

Damn straight. Real men throw shindigs, not parties. Couple seasons ago, yours truly got the creative urge to tweak his rowdy lyrics. Well, ESPN put the kibosh on that.

“Shindig? Why, that word is old hat. Nobody says 'shindig' anymore. Hanks but no Hanks on that idea.” That's what them ivory tower elitists done told me.

Well, now I get to call my own plays in the huddle. Good riddance, ESPN. Y'all just wanted to toss screen-passes during the two-minute drill, but old Citizens First Hank is about slingin' some bombs for big chunks of rowdy yardage. Everybody start sayin' 'shindig' in place of 'party,' will ya? Otherwise, the terrorists win. Screen-passes... Bah! The new Hank spits at that kind of a conservative offense.

Shoot. Now, don't that just beat all? Man finds himself in hot water for bashin' liberal scum, then badmouths a conservative frame of mind. Ain't that ironic? Yup, the Harvard boy just agreed with me. It's irony, all right.

Now, hold your horses if you got the audacity to consider me some kind of inhuman Gore-voter. It's only on the pigskin field that I knock conservatism. (Throw it deep, ya pansies! OK, that's enough.) Outside of the arena, liberal sympathizers are killin' this great nation. Noble countrymen like Jefferson Davis are rollin' over in their southern-dug graves pukin' and a-cussin' on account of Barack HUSSEIN Obama bein' elected commander-and-chief. And not for the reason some of you Yankees probably expect. It's not 'cause he hails from the north, all right? It's 'cause he's black.

I stand by the righteous comments I made on Fox and Friends. Because he played a two-on-two golf match with Republicans, you best believe Obama is like Hitler. That comparison is totally legit, my Hankamaniacs. For your information, my would-be doubters, during WW2, Hitler routinely paired with FDR—another lousy democrat—in golf games against the likes of that filthy Brit Churchill and Mussolini. Trust me. It happened. Old “You Hank My Battleship” had a dream about that, too. Then Hitler chipped in a birdie on a par-5 and it turned into another nightmare.

Folks who criticize me for what I done said on FOX News are no better than the yahoos who cheered on the nut-job that shot a hole in Ronald Reagan. “Shoot him a new one, Hinckley!” they shouted, those left-wing bottom-feeders.

Now that I'm flying solo, I can snitch 'bout some of Monday Night Football's darkest secrets. I'll bet you didn't know ESPN let old Hankonia pick the sleight of games for this season. Most of the time, I chose the match-ups based on the rhyme scheme offered by the two teams. If they tripped the trigger of my inner artist, hell, I ran with it.

Welcome to the grand-daddy of Monday night shams/ Get ready and rowdy for the Seahawks and Rams!

Those lyrics just seemed to pour out of my pen when I gazed upon the pairings of week 14. Since ESPN kicked me off the team, though, y'all are doomed to watch two rosters of human garbage struggle to kick more field-goals than their equally chump-plagued opponents, and your rowdy friend here won't even be on TV beforehand to give those eardrums a sonic shot of Jim Beam. What a pity.

We got Hank, and Harvard boy, and a gun...We're gonna get it kick-started!

Oh, yeah. No more kowtowin' to those pinhead announcers in my epic intro to Monday Night Football. No more “shout-outs,” as the urban street-toughs call it. No one can stop me from yappin' to y'all 'bout the time I walked in on Ron Jaworski diddlin' himself in the film room as he ogled that fella Rodgers pickin' apart the Steelers' defense in the Super Bowl. Heh, heh. As such, my new single, “Starin' at Aaron” will be released on the I-Tunes doodad later this month.

Don't wander far from your computer in the following weeks, Hankamaniacs, 'cause Bocephus here will be keepin' y'all abreast of a crap-ton of dirt on Hussein Obama and ESPN, as well as Bill Clinton's covert plans to install the frozen-brains of deceased Kennedys into massive, steel constructs known as “Liberalbots.”

And bare this in mind, y'all, if you report me to the authorities, so help me God, the terrorists win.