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So, I go into a Waffle House and I order a filet mignon. The name of my waitress was Tammy Lynn. A stupd name if I ever heard one. Tammy Lynn tells me that they only serve breakfast, and besides she "aint hurd a no feellay meenyung"

I look over the menu and I ask her for a Dr. Pepper. Tammy Lynn say: "Sorry, we aint gots that down heah. All we gots is coke."

I call the manager over whose name is Billy Joe (yet another stupid name) and demand to know what kind of stupid hillbillies are they that they would only serve breakfast 24 hours day. Only in the south, I tell them, would you find such idiotic business practices. Only breakfasts? Only coke? Is this a restaurant or a John Belushi cheeseburger sketch?

I ask Billy Joe directions for a better restaurant than his because I'm not in the mood for waffles in the afternoon. And I point out to Billy Joe that his place was way out in the countryside, and that he's loser to place an eatery way out in the sticks and they're all a bunch of losers for living out in the countryside.

Billy joe gives me directions to the nearest Cracker Barrel. Turn right at this civil war monument, turn right at that civil war monument, etc. I said to Billy Joe that I've seen enough of their dumb looking monuments to last me a lifetime, including that carving at Stone mountain. I got nothing but complaints about that stupid looking thing.

So I leave and head for the cracker barrel. I get there and they give me a waiter by the name of Luther. Gads, yet another hillbillie with another stupid name. I tell Luther all about my trip over there from the Waffle House. God, on the way there...it was so dirty and polluted. And, oh! The humidity! Even with my air conditioning, I couldn't handle it. I ask Luther for wheat toast...and he say "we aint gots that." So I ask him, "Well then, what do you have, you stuipid hillbilly that cant speak a proper word of english?"

"We gots grits" he answers. So I say to him, in my best faux southern accent, "Well, then...I'll have muhself a smattering of dem grits, y'all."

He disappears into the kitchen, in the meantime, I watch a dumb hillbilly hold the door open for his momma and refer to her as "ma'am." Such dumb manners. I yell out to them "Hey, why don't you hold open your own door, grandma hillbilly?"

Finally Luther returns with my plate of grits and I promptly put some sugar on it to make it taste better.

While I'm eating my sugar coated grits, I tell Luther how much better things are at home for me up North. I also ask him if there is anything better to eat than grits. Luther says "We gots our barbeecue. Best in duh south. Home made sauce an' evurything over an opun fahre."

I tell Luther "You stupid hillbilly, the proper way to cook BBQ is over a gas jet and then smother it in bottled A-1 sauce."

The doctor tells me that the cast and bandages can come off in 8 months.

The doctor tells me that the cast and bandages can come off in 8 months.

Sounds to me that you got an ass kickin'! ROFLMAOPIMP!

Man, you ARE begging for an ass-kickin' with the kinds of dialects you're usin'. We southerners do have accents that are peculiar to our region and our ancestry. They are not uniform across the region or one's heritage.

Nice try, but Tammy Lynn ain't birthin' no babies at the Waffle House.

No joke...I was in a Cracker Barrel this very night and the people behind me asked the waitress (who's name was Kim) where the Waffle House was!