Leaving on a midnight train to--oh, fuck it.

So I ran away to Georgia.
Why Georgia?
Why not?

I am currently a stone's throw away from America's most haunted city. Or America's must gullible city; however you choose to look at it. It's still a lot of spooky fun.
But besides its cheap thrills, spanish moss, and massive quantities of beer, Savannah Georgia is the largest National Historic Landmark District in the United States. And probably the most congenial spot in the universe.
Seriously.
People are super nice.
Like, scary-nice.


So far, being in Georgia has taught me many things:
1. Where there are trucks, there are rednecks.
2. Where there is smoke, someone is burning shit and drinking.
3. Tornados are loud and scary; they appear in the night and steal your cows.
4. Tornados don't take you to Oz. They kill you. Dead.
5. In the event a tornado hits and you don't have a basement, take cover in a bathtub or shower and cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then pray.
6. When you survive a tornado, get in your truck, drive to the nearest Citgo station and buy the most expensive bottle of wine they have, then celebrate by drinking and burning shit.
7. Liquor can be sold just about anywhere.
8. Any edible substance can be immediately improved by deep-frying it.
9. When someone refers to "the Greeks" they are not talking about Plato & Aristotle. They mean frats and sororities. My bad.
10. Football is not a sport. It is a religion.