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Reopening Negotiations with the North 
- One Laugh at a Time -


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 Blissemas sacred Southern soil here.

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


A manly man does what a manly man does even when he's half a man  
By W. Mark Berryman


There comes a time in life when a manly man's got to do what a manly man's got to do, even if it means having his nether-regions explored by a total stranger with a tiny Dating Treff fleshlight and camera. For me, that time came two years ago but like many manly men, I put it off.

The reason is simple. Many men would rather eat dirt than go to the doctor. In fact, many manly men have probably eaten dirt hoping it would cure whatever ailed them so they didn't have to go to the doctor.


Haircuts & Bluegrass   By David Decker

Smallwood's Barber Shop was located in a small, stand-alone, cement block building at the corner of Paul Avenue and Bolton Road. The tiny, cube-shaped building had a large picture window in front. It was easy to tell if all the chairs were filled as you pulled into the rough, pea-gravel parking lot. Smallwood's was a man's place, and a true throw-back to barber shops of the past - complete with a rotating red, white, and blue barber pole at the front door.


N. Korea may be justified  By Ben Baker

While I am not a fan of Kim Jung-un, in this case I have to admit he’s got a point. N. Korea is responding to the latest insult from the United States, sending Dennis Rodman over there as an ambassador. If that’s not a hostile move, I don’t know what is.




As Seen On TV  By Sheila Moss

Do you ever get tempted by those TV commercials and become the proud owner of something you don't need? You know the kind of commercial, "Hurry and buy now and we will send you two instead of one." Oh, you get the item, but it is always something of questionable quality that you would never buy in a store. You don't need one, much less two.  Okay, I confess.


What is this thing?
By Sharon Dillon

Imagine my surprise. This morning I opened one of the countless emails Eddie Bauer sends me. We must be really good friends because I get more email from Eddie than most of my friends and relatives. But I don’t complain. His store is within walking distance and since I’m a casual kind of gal, I often shop there.





By Jody Worsham

Do your spring tomatoes now look like wilted stalks of celery? -- -Does your winter wardrobe have hangar burns from going in and out of the storage closet several times a week? -- -Do your children march off to school clad in shorts, sandals, t-shirts, wool gloves, and parkas? -- -Does your calendar say Spring but the thermometer says Winter?


A Little Chicago Story  By Rose Valenta

When I was growing up, I used to spend most of my summers visiting my grandmother in Olean, New York. If you have never heard of Olean, it is a great little community just over the New York state line from Bradford, Pennsylvania. It was also a major bootlegging stop during Prohibition. In the 1920s, the press nicknamed the town "Little Chicago" because of its connection with organized crime, bootleggers, and Al Capone, who often visited there.



Bracket Chicanery  By Ike Martin

Perhaps it was the madness that comes with the ides of March, but after I filled out my NCAA Basketball bracket this year, I decided to have some fun. I went totally manic and decided to create a totally “blind draw” process to complete an additional bracket. I wanted to see how my educated prognostications would fare against a bracket based solely on kismet.


Cheater  By Don Stewart

For several holiday seasons I was privileged to set up my booth next to an accomplished craftsman, known widely for his hand-carved wooden figurines, particularly his expressive Santas, elves and gnomes, any of which could have been jolly s’elf-portraits.




Put Some SOUTH In Your Mouth  By Cappy Hall Rearick

Any Georgian worth his salted peanuts knows that the Merry Month of May means only one thing: the Vidalias are here. Last season’s leftovers are yesterday’s news. Imports? Seriously? May is when the too-often ignored great state of Georgia moves front and center to become Old Glory’s Star of the Month.


Hazards of Spring Gardening By Nick Thomas

You have to wonder what God was thinking when He created poison ivy. Was He having a rough day, or was He just furious with Adam and Eve? 

“I’ll teach those darn kids to rummage through my garden in their birthday suites and steal my fruit,” said God, sprinkling the area with ivy and a liberal dose of Miracle-Gro.


Operating Manual for the Human Body  By Man Martin

Dear Mortal Being:

Congratulations on your acquisition of a human body! The Powers That Be have spent billions of years crafting this out of the finest organic chemicals available, and with proper maintenance, this body may give you sensory experiences and "knowledge" for decades to come.



Chipmunk Popsicle   By Libby Hall

“Why didn’t you kill it?” I asked, enraged. “You can’t leave him out there to starve to death! That’s a horrible way to die! It’ll take days.”

“Well, I couldn’t do it! You have to do it.”



Bubba's(s) In the Left Lane By Wanda Argersinger

In the South we love our Bubbas, which is a very good thing, because we have an abundance of them here. And they are everywhere, but nowhere more than driving in the left lane, in front of me, when I am in a hurry.




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Copyright 2013 Southern Humorists' Enterprises
Editor - Angela Gillaspie | Editor - Sheila Moss | Consulting Editor - Ben Baker | Moderator Mark Berryman
Dixie Dispatch by Angela Gillaspie | by Sheila Moss | Publicity Editor - Leeuna Foster