Happy Ginger Day!

Well hi there, chums is it? Hi. My name is Lenord but y'all can call me Lenny. I've been asked to come along and celebrate this here Ginger Day with y'all. I 'splained I wasn't no Ginger and frankly, I don't truck with no gingers neither, seeing as how they are all clearly devil spawn and probably left handed to boot, but dang, that fatcat critter 'splained to me that I owed her one. I axed, 'how'd ye figure?' And she laughed, then coughed, then laughed and then showed me an embarrassing picture of me when I was in my cups.
Now I'm not one to get easily embarrassed. I believe in my god given body, I believe in my masculinity, it's right there ain't it? Not like I can cover it up now, is it? I mean, look at me. Am I not a speci-men of manliness? But that darned cat lovin' freak, shoot, she sure is plain evil and when she turns the screw on a body that's it. It's not like I knew there was a camera there that night.
I'spect her of all manner of things, first she don't believe in God. Now, that right there proves she's evil. People who don't believe in God ain't got no business being here in my view. Not enjoying the same freedoms we fought for. Second, I believe she's some kind of pinko lib-ral. I know she got friends that are swish, and I know she don't believe in keeping damned freeloaders out of the country.
But that's all right, I ain't gonna get bothered none about that today. Today's Friday, sorry GingerDay, and that means the weekend is upon us. And God willin', that means me and a few of the boys are gonna head up into the mountains with some kegs and some semi-automatic weapons and some make up- not swish make up- camouflage, and we're gonna train real hard. Fuck yeah, we're gonna train so that we're ready when that day comes and we're called upon to protect our hard won liberties, and no one's gonna make me cover up, and they can prise my last keg from my cold dead hand. Which might be the case if Billy-Lou don't get the optical range finder fixed on his rifle. Dang that was close, but for my lightening fast reflexes I was almost a goner. Still haven't quite worked out how Billy-Lou mistook me for a bear.
Alls I'm saying is you lot can keep your Gingerday. I'm gonna be out there mano-a mano with nature the wind flowing through my hair, wearing nothing more than a cup and make-up and you lot can keep your purdy noses out of the woods. We don't require no swish lib-rals. No sir, we're a group of men, nekked, hard core men, who like to take photos of each other in their god given underwear, surrounded by civil guns. There's nothing hinky 'bout spending two days in the woods, nekkid as jaybirds and sweaty and learning how to grapple and sleeping in a bivouac, it help us get back to nature, it helps us get back to when men was men and uppity bitches and lib-rals kept the hell off our business.
Well, I'm not gonna get upset here. Happy GingerDay you pinko commie freaks. And remember, Jesus loves you. I don't, I hate each and everyone of you, but he do. And he the Man.