Ridiculousness

I have a soft spot in my heart for Southern men. I mean, the confederate flags and weaponry are not exactly charming or anything, but they like their women feisty and that bodes well for me. My good friend—let’s call her “She” because it rhymes with what I actually call her—happens to be Southern and I get a kick out of scandalizing her. Many of our conversations go as such:
Me: Blah blah blah inappropriate.
She: !!!!!!!
Me: Hehe. Blah blah blah inappropriate times 10.
She: ?!?!??!?!
Me: Hehehehehehehe. That was awesome.
She’s fellow Southerner friend is pictured above, to the right of Snooki and yes that is totally his body and his cigarette. But let’s get to the point here: HELLO THEY HIRED HER FOR A VALENTINE’S DAY PARTY IN VIRGINIA BEACH OF ALL PLACES! And that, my friends, is exactly why myself and South of the Mason Dixon line have a special bond, beyond the Jim Beam and the inbreeding of course.