We are Southern writers with a strong sense of regional heritage who laugh at our own shortcomings and make diversity into an asset. We are proud of our turnip greens, cornbread and rural past, but recognize football, country music, and car racing as activities of a new South.

We would also like to go on record as the humorist group with the most couches on the front porch and the greatest number of junk cars rusting in the backyard.

We welcome any Southern humorist, comedy author, funny writer, or cartoonist who creates humor of any sort, or aspires to do so, to join our newsgroup and become a part of the comedy organization that sponsors our official Southern Humorists website.

We welcome true southerners, former southerners, transplanted southerners - and even danged Yankees, as long as you know that you will be the one who talks with a funny accent and that you're treading on our sacred Southern soil here.

And Now.... Here is a sample of the kind of writing we do...

Guys, I've got to say that I have the greatest wife on the face of the Earth. I'll tell you why. Recently, we had planned to do one of those husband-and-wife dates- just the two to spend some quality time together. Of all places, she suggested- note, I said she suggested- that we go to a beer fest. She even offered to be the designated driver. Now beat that, boys!

Black Friday Shopping Tips - by Judy Worsham

Judging by the massive preparations going on, you would think the 8th US Army battalion was preparing for a twenty-five mile hike or Elvis had been discovered living in Greenland and tickets were going on sale in thirty-six hours for his next live concert. Actually, it is just Black Friday Survivors getting ready to launch their next shopping spree.

I Ate Wire at the Mexican Restaurant in Front of the Old Kroger Store - by Angela Weight

Today I had lunch with Kim and Naomi at the Mexican restaurant in front of the old Kroger. It’s the only eating establishment I know of that is referred to, not by its name, but by a nearby landmark that’s been gone for 10 years. In fact, I have to strain to try and even think of what it’s legitimately called.

Loose Lips Sink Ships - by Rose A. Valentia

All the recent publicity about WikiLeaks and Julian Assange possibly winning a Nobel Prize, reminded me of the WWII saying “Loose lips sink ships.” Not only did the military mandate the rule to soldiers writing home during war time, but my grandmother took it a step further and enforced it at home, when the “dirt” or “scoop” pertained to a family member. You know, tell outsiders about family business and your ass is grass.

Sweet and Sour Pork - by Nick Thomas

Despite its Northern name, the Boston Butt is a favorite cut of meat in the South. It's the best part of the hog to roast and in some areas it is also known as pulled pork. Being so tender, it's easy to yank (if you'll pardon the term) apart, and break into smaller pieces for the sweetest sandwiches around. 

Picture Perfect - by Jim Tatum

If you’ve ever had to move someone’s household after thirty years, then you know the myriad of tasks involved in such an endeavor. One of those tasks, of course, is going through family memorabilia. Everyone needs to do this once in awhile, if for no other reason than for the ensuing laugh riot that’s going to occur. To see what we dressed like, how we cut our hair, the things we said and did, all of it is an adventure in high comedy like no other. 

A Bad Day - by Ren Summerlin

The other night I was listening to some baseball announcer lament about how awful it was to play ball in Miami and then fly to the west coast. Just awful. They were saying that the schedule should be changed to take this into consideration.  I did not listen long. I thought if theses guys were being paid a million dollars a year to play this beloved game, they should not complain.

My Grandfather and that New Contraption, the Telephone - by James L Snyder

I was sitting in a restaurant on a Friday afternoon enjoying a leisurely repast with some friends. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, my cell phone went off. Without even thinking about it, I reached into my shirt pocket, pulled it out and answered it.

Work It Out Without Me - by Cappy Hall Rearick

I am a writer, and it’s a well-known fact that we writers never break a sweat if it means we have to exercise. Most of my days, when I am not searching for an excuse to procrastinate, are spent at a computer keyboard. I have never been into physical exercise unless you count the up and down movement of my mouth while talking or eating, most often in tandem. 

How To Become A Victim of Financial Fraud - by Sheila Moss

Did you know that October is Fraud & Financial Abuse Awareness month? I'm sure you will want to celebrate. Why wait for Halloween to experience horror. There are ways to assure that your credit card numbers -- or even your identity -- will go to thieves who will download porn movies, and make 900 calls with your credit card.

Age is Not a Matter of Fact- by Stacey Mollus

I am getting older and beginning to feel the pressure to lie about my age. I am the only one applying this pressure, but I just can’t shake the idea that I need to shave off a few years when folks ask how old I am. Deceiving others about my age is not a new thing for me because as a pre-teen, I wanted people to think I was older than I was and with enough lipstick and eyeliner, I pretty much pulled it off. I figure, faking being older cannot be any more difficult than faking being younger. 

To Reproduce or Not to Reproduce, That Was the Question - by Jamie Miles

Traditionally, the answer whether to procreate is decided by husbands and wives who love each other very much. However if you happen to be a dog, more likely your master makes the call, unless fate provides you with a one by two foot gap between the chain link fence and dirt. And with our dog’s increasingly randy behavior a decision needed to be made for him.

Untechnically Inclined - by Ike Martin

When I was approached by the owner of a computer integration company concerning a job with his company, I told him I had just recently found the on/off switch on my office PC. To date, that had been the zenith of my computer knowledge.

In My LIfe - by Wendy Carol Lang

Not being much of a crowd cuddler, I had decided to skip the big across town rivalry high school football game last week until I got that all important phone call. I answered the phone to my seventeen year old, Winston's most excited voice; "Mom, we've painted up and I am the O in Decatur!" Before it had time to register, he hung up and I went into that panic mode that only a mother can relate to. I quickly grabbed the mama sized purse and ran for the door. 

Computers Ain't What They Used To Be - by Joe Giorgianni

Someone once said that when you finally get it all together, you most probably will forget where you put it. Boy did I ever fit that description. Well, I almost did anyway. I thought I had it all together, and pretty much knew where everything was, then my computer crashed. All was lost, including address books, previously written columns, and most importantly, my long list of favorite jokes. After describing my loss to my son, the computer guru of the family, he suggested that I bite the bullet and switch to a Mac computer made by the very smart people at Apple. 

An Exercise Program that Works - by Sharon Dillon

 

Finally! I’ve figured out an exercise program that works. Now all I have to do is decide how to schedule around it. What is this wonderful program? It’s called the Preschool Workout Regimen. When my great-grandsons (One at a time, thank goodness!) are here, sometime during the day we sit and crawl around on the floor and play cars, trucks and airplanes on my oval throw-rug with rings that allow for great races, tow away zones and repair areas.

Taking 12 Steps with Chicken Legs - by Mark Berryman

Some addictions are tougher to overcome than others. Mine seems “purt-near” impossible. Even so, the experts say to admit a problem is the first step in overcoming it. Now, I’ve never actually met one of these experts but people tell me "that’s what the experts say” and I’m just gullible enough to believe them. In keeping with the admission thing, I’ll start it like they ask you to do in one of those 12 Step meetings. “My name is Mark Berryman and I am addicted to fried chicken.”

Icky -by Ben Baker

It's not the most manly thing in the world to do, but every time I go quail hunting, I get a little misty-eyed. It's easy to blame it on the dust, smoke, every now and then (when I get invited) the gaseous emissions from the hay burner engines pulling the wagons.

Wintness Protection Program for Dummies - by Wanda Argersinger

Stupidity and the act of doing stupid things are alive and well. I have incontrovertible proof of this fact and I enjoy immensely knowing that I am not, contrary to the opinion of many of my friends, ‘the only one who lives a strange life.’

Gravy Hangover - by Lucy Adams

This Thanksgiving my mission is to avoid saying anything to my relatives for which I’ll spend all of Christmas apologizing. I’m taking my cue from my sister who travels the entire drive from Tuscaloosa to Nashville every Thanksgiving trying to increase her saliva production so that she won’t offend her in-laws. She chews gum, she drinks water, she thinks of George Clooney.