THE SOUTH - LIKE IT OR WE'LL KICK YOUR A$$!

Don't order filet mignon or pasta primavera at Waffle House. It's just a diner. They serve breakfast 24 hours a day. Let them cook something they know. If you confuse them, they'll kick your ass.

Don't laugh at our Southern names. (Merleen, Bodie, Ovine, Luther, Ray, Tammy Lynn, Darla Beth, Inez, Billy Joe, Sissy, etc.) These people have all been known to kick ass.

Don't order a bottle of pop of a can of soda down here. Down here it's called Coke. Nobody gives a flying damn whether it's Pepsi, RC, Dr. Pepper, 7-Up, or whatever - it's still a Coke. Accept it. Doing otherwise can lead to an ass kicking.

We know out heritage. Most of us are more literate than you (e.g. Welty, Williams, Faulkner). We are also better educated and generally a lot nicer. Don't refer to us as a bunch of hillbillies, or we'll kick your ass.

We have plenty of business sense (e.g. Fred Smith of Fed Ex, Turner Broadcasting, MCI Worldcom, MTV, Netscape). Naturally, we do, sometimes, have small lapses in judgment (e.g. Carter, Edwards, Duke, Barnes). We don't care if you think we are dumb. We can still kick your ass.

Don't laugh at our Civil War monuments. If Lee had listened to Longstreet and flanked Meade at Gettysburg instead of sending Pickett up the middle, you'd be paying taxes to Richmond instead of Washington. If you visit Stone Mountain and complain about the carving, we'll kick your ass.

We are fully aware of how high the humidity is, so shut the hell up, spend your money, and get the hell out of here - or we'll kick your ass.

Don't order wheat toast at Cracker Barrel. Everyone will instantly know that you're from Ohio. Eat your biscuits like God intended. Don't put sugar on your grits, or we'll kick your ass. Don't fake a Southern accent. This will incite a riot, and you will get your ass kicked.

Don't talk about how much better things are at home because we don't give a damn. Many of us have visited hellholes like Detroit, Chicage, L.A., and D.C., and we have the scars to prove it. If you don't like it here, Delta is ready when you are. Take your ass home before it gets kicked.

Yes, we know how to speak proper English. We talk this way because we don't want to sound like you. We don't care if you don't understand what we are saying. All other Southerners understand what we are saying, and that's all that matters. Now, go away, or we'll kick your ass.

Don't complain that the South is dirty and polluted. None of OUR lakes have caught fire like scenic Lake Erie once did. Whine about OUR scenic beauty, and we'll kick your ass all the way back to Boston Harbor.

Don't ridicule our Southern manners. We say "sir" and "ma'am", hold doors open for others, and offer our seats to old folks because such things are expected of civilized people. Behave yourselves around our sweet little gray-haired grandmothers or they'll kick some manners into your ass just like they did ours.

So you think we're quaint or we're losers because most of us like in the countryside? That's because we have enough sense to not live in smelly, crime-infested cesspools like New York or L.A. Make fund of our fresh air, and we'll kick your ass.

Last, but not least, DO NOT DARE to come down here trying to tell us how to cook barbecue. This will get your ass shot off (right after it is kicked). You're lucky we let you come down here at all. Questions our sacred BBQ, and you'll go home in a pine box -minus your ass.

Th' South......Like it o' we will kick yer ass!

Don't o'der filet mignon o' pasta primavaha at Waffle House. It's jest a diner. They sarve bustfast 24 hours a day. Let them cook sumpin they know. Eff'n yo' cornfuse them, they'll kick yer ass.

Don't laugh at our Southern names. (Merleen, Bodie, Ovine, Luther, Ray, Tammah Henrietta, Darla Beth, Inez, Billy Joe Billy Joe, Sissy, etc.) These varmints haf all been known t'kick ass.

Don't o'der a bottle of pop of a kin of a six pack down hyar. Down hyar it's called Coky Cola. Nobody gives a flyin' dadburn whether it's a six pack, RC, Dr. Pepper, 7-Up, o' whutevah - it's still a Coky Cola. Accepp it. Doin' otherwise kin lead t'an ass kickin'.

We knows out heritage. Most of us is mo'e literate than yo' (e.g, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Welty, Billy Joes, Faulkner). We is also better ejoocayted an' junerally a lot nicer. Don't refer t'us as a bunch of hillbillies, o' we'll kick yer ass.

We haf plenty of business sense (e.g, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Fred Smif of Fed Ex, Turner Broadcastin', MCah Wo'ldcom, MTV, Netscape). Natcherly, we does, sometimes, haf small lapses in judgment (e.g, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Carter, Edwards, Duke, Barnes). We doesn't care eff'n yo' reckon we is dumb. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. We kin still kick yer ass.

Don't laugh at our Civil War monoomnts. Eff'n Lee had lissened t'Longstreet an' flanked Meade at Gittysburg instead of sendin' Pickett up th' middle, yo'd be payin' taxes t'Richmond instead of Warshin'ton, as enny fool kin plainly see. Eff'n yo' viset Stone Mountain an' complain about th' carvin', we'll kick yer ass.

We is fully aware of how high th' hoomidity is, so shet th' hell up, spend yer money, an' git th' hell outta hyar - o' we'll kick yer ass.

Don't o'der wheat toast at Cracker Barrel, ah reckon. Ev'ryone will instantly knows thet yer fum Ohio. Ett yer biscuits like God aimed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Don't put sugar on yer grits, o' we'll kick yer ass.

Don't fake a Southern accent. This hyar will incite a riot, an' yo' will getcher ass kicked, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Don't talk about how much better thin's is at home on account o' we doesn't give a dadburn. Menny of us haf visited hellholes like Detroit, Chicage, L.A., an' D.C., an' we haf th' scars t'prove it. Eff'n yo' doesn't like it hyar, Delta is ready when yer. Take yer ass home befo'e it gits kicked, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Yessuh, we knows how t'speak right English. We talk this hyar way on account o' we doesn't be hankerin' t'soun' like yo'. We doesn't care eff'n yo' doesn't unnerstan' whut we is sayin'. All other Southerners unnerstan' whut we is sayin', an' thass all thet matters. Now, hoof it away, o' we'll kick yer ass.

Don't complain thet th' South is dirty an' polluted, cuss it all t' tarnation. None of OUR lakes haf caught fire like scenic Lake Erie once did, cuss it all t' tarnation. Whine about OUR scenic booty, an' we'll kick yer ass all th' way back t'Boston Harbo'.

Don't ridicule our Southern manners. We say "suh" an' "ma'am", hold dores open fo' others, an' offer our seats t'old folks on account o' sech thin's is specked of civilized varmints. Behave yournelves aroun' our sweet li'l gray-haired gran'Mammys o' they'll kick some manners into yer ass jest like they did ours.

So yo' reckon we is quaint o' we is losers on account o' most of us like in th' countryside? Thet's on account o' we haf 'nuff sense t'not live in smelly, crime-infested cesspools like Noo Yawk o' L.A. Make fund of our fresh air, an' we'll kick yer ass.

Last, but not least, DO NOT DARE t'come down hyar tryin' t'tell us how t'cook barbecue. This hyar will getcher ass shot off (right af'er it is kicked). Yer lucky we let yo' come down hyar at all, ah reckon. Quesshuns our sacred BBQ, an' yo'll hoof it home in a pine box -minus yer ass.

Y'all haf a nice day! Fry mah hide! ----------------------------------------------------------

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.