In tall cotton.
Aint my first rodeo.
More than you can shake a stick at.
Don't trust him any further than I can throw him.
Fine as frogs hair.
Any time you're feeling froggy son, you just jump. (Generally from parents to children)
Like the dogs was after him.
As all get out.
Rearing to go.
All hat and no cattle.
Dumb as: Dirt, Door Nail, Brick, Box of Rocks.
Hotter than: Hell, Hades, Satan's dick, Two cats f***ing in a wool sock, a half f***ed fox in a forest fire, etc.
Aint got the good sense God gave a rock.
Lived with mid-westerners and an Australian before I moved to Tennessee. Apparently everything we say is weird.