While I don't mix in with the city, I fit in pretty well with the country. I'm not sure how I turned out this way, but I think my dad and most of the rest of my family had something to do with it. My dad has taken me to his childhood farm year after year, where I spent quality time with my family. As I grew older alongside my cousins, I occasionally joined in on their shenanigans, however I've strongly rejected alcohol and 3 AM truck races down the dark country roads, as well as other things. I'm the only city-raised person that my cousins haven't called a wuss or a city-slicker. In fact, with a little bit of my dad's influence, they're the ones who came up with the nickname "Redneck" for me. 

I'm usually successful at fishing and hunting, I know how to race a mean dirtbike, and I can help out on the farm without complaint. I find it fun to chase cows on foot and test my strength by lifting up hay bales and bags of grain. Plus, who doesn't like to hang out with cute little calves, barn kittens, and hunting puppies? I'm not a wuss, and most of the locals can't tell me apart from the rest of the family. While I know how to raise hell and have fun, I do it without being illegal and stupid. I've proven to everyone that I'm just as country as everyone else. I just got stuck in Denver for some reason.