Friday, July 01, 2005

Seriously. What the fuck have I gotten myself into.

The further we travel south the more I begin to ask myself the question why... here is a further explination.
  • Buying something at a giftshop this womyn stared blankly and asked me , " Hi hunny, how ya doin." She was like fucking 80 and just sat there like I had known her my entire life. I said fine shiftedly and she proceeded to call me "hunny", "baby doll" , and "sweetie" for the entirity of our 30 second conversation.
  • There are so many damn waffle shops.
  • There is not on station that is completely sterile from the sounds of country western.
  • People look at me when I talk like I have worms coming out of my eyes.
  • It's hot, so so so hot.
  • There are black people. Like don't take this wrong anyone back home, but there are some real, Snoop Dogg, Ludacris, 50-cent and even one or two Fat Joes down here. Like doo (sp?) rags and cutoff shirts and deep southern accents and gold teeth. C'est bizzare.
  • Mullets are an accepted fashion statment expressed by both men and womyn.
  • And no matter how attractive or young you are having a southern accent makes you look 50, with a mullet.

Enough to bitch about tonight, but seriously, I'm getting worried that there will be no coffee shops or cool places to just chill on campus. Kevin Troy assured me that it's cool, but I have never been so freaked out. God damned Southerners who's accents make me want to dig a hole and bury myself into it.

Thee end


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