Reasons why I don't belong in "The Dirty South"
Reason #1
Upon arriving in Memphis, I learned of the true Holy Sacrament: Chick-fil-A. The conversation went a little something like this:
Me and fellow Chicago travelers: funny billboard
Southern Belle: y'all never seen Chick-fil-A?
Me: um, no.
SB: OMG! I looooove Chick-fil-A!!
me: I don't eat meat.
SB:
[cue X-Files theme song and stares from everyone around]
Additional reasons:
- I don't wear pink
- polka dots nauseate me
- I don't own a Vera Bradley bag
- I think people who live in Texas, Oklahoma, etc. and own Uggs/wear them in 70 degree weather should be sterilized
- I'd rather starve than even look at biscuits and gravy
- rhinestones are tacky. learn it. live it.
- if my parents had named/nicknamed me "Ducky" or "Muffin" I'm reasonably certain that I'd have a severe meth addiction and career as a model for a gas station men's magazine
Random weekend observations not related to geography:
- liquid eyeliner should not look like it was applied with a Marks-A-Lot
- clapping when a plane lands after a calm flight makes you look like a major dumbass
- mascots, like clowns, are creepy and weird
- "hold on, spider monkey" sounds just as stupid to people who didn't see Twilight or read the books
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