Kiss Mah Grits

Ok, I don't talk about things that actually happen to me, and when I do, I'm usually lying, but this time, I swear, this is 100% Grade A truth here.

I just talk to the most "Southern" woman in the world. And not in the fancy genteel, Scarlet O'Hara type, either. The Britney Spears' aunt Brandine type.

First of all, before she could ask me her very important question, she had to tell me her entire life story, without pausing for breath, it seems. I had to listen to this for a good three minutes:

"NowAhusedtobuyyerhoroscopemagazineattheWinnDixieyouknow
forthemlotterynumbahsandAhgotallmyfriendstogoalongbutthenthe
WinnDixiequitcarryinthemsothenAhhadtogoovertotheWalmartfor
awhileanAhIgotallmyfriendstogoalongbutthenAhcouldn'tfindthem
anymoresoAhaskedtheladyifAhcouldtalktothemagazinefellerthere
hewasablackmanandhetoldmethathewouldseewhathecoulddobut
thosemagazinesgetsnatchedupassoonastheyhitthemshelves, do you know what I mean?"

First, it was obnoxious. Then it got hilarious. Then she callled me "son," which made it obnoxious again. And all this because she wanted to subscribe. Great, call the right damn number.

Oh, and Incredibly Southern Lady, how are those lottery numbers working out for you? Win any millions yet? I didn't think so.