No Southern Chicken

I leave town for a weeks vacation and all kinds of crap happens. Letterman makes Palin mad, Iran takes another step closer to hell, and God knows all the Twittering I missed.  It was another great Harley trip, 2500 miles in 6 1/2 days, a little extreme, but fun nonetheless. Dodged all the rain, too. Did a lot of thinking and a lot of not thinking.  And no, my ass is NOT sore.  His, however, is.  HA!

I thought maybe the South might be a good place to relocate, but I don’t think I can live down there.  There were two churches on every block, and the drawl made my skin crawl. They said stuff like:

If you wanna nuther bees-kit, you just let me know.

I don’t know what tyme zone we’re in. Carl, do you know what tyme zone this is?

You’re in a dry county, darlin’.

All our liquor stores close up at 7.    

Yikes. I’m sure they’re all lovely people, but I think I better head west.


It’s a whole different world down there.

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2 Responses to “No Southern Chicken”

  1. Jake Says:

    Glad y’all had fun and got back safe. But as far as missing anything while you were gone? Eh, all that crap is business as usual. In fact, thanks for reminding me how nice it will be on vacation sans interwebs in a few weeks!

  2. phillybikeboy Says:

    Yes, I’d love another biscuit. The south is a hard place to get a handle on in a short time. Even given time, it’s not for everyone. When I first moved there, I hated it, but when it was to go, leaving the south was a hard decision.

    Welcome back.

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