Notes From the Dirty South

The dogs are evil. They roam around without a leash and any poor bastard without a vehicle has to carry rocks. The yards are full of broken cars, trucks, farm equipment...this is not a joke. Or an exaggeration. The accent is maddening and charming all at once and spins the brain of any thinking person like a psychotic Cuisinart. The people are polite to your face and cannot wait for you to turn your back so they can gossip. They are church-goers, banjo-pickers, pill-popping hypocrites. And, as I said, the dogs are evil. That fact makes me fit right in. If not for that fact I would not fit in. I understand the dogs, but not the people. The people are stupid and the dogs are evil and the dogs have an excuse where the people do not.

It's a strange trip living in a land where the animals without thumbs are more intelligent than the animals with thumbs. The things we do for love. What can I say? My wife wanted to be near her family. Point of Fact: she managed to escape the derka-derness overwhelming the south. Hilarious how the rednecks in this region insist they will "rise agin'". How the fuck are you going to rise again if you can't even pick your nose without an instruction manual? Funny; twenty miles north of here, in Chattanooga, the people are 2000 years more sophisticated opposed to these dingbat moles inhabiting Trenton, GA, Dade County, USA...or as I prefer to call it Police State County, USA.

I'd better be careful. I could do time for writing that in this county.

Is there a point here? Does it matter? Try writing anything on the fly in the Dade County library.

Well. More notes to come. And yes, my novel will be coming out soon friends, and that is NO JOKE. The dogs are evil and so am I or so they say; lucky me I don't give a shit what anyone says. If I did I'd be working as a shoe-salesman (or sales-PERSON, if we must be politically correct...which is the fault of the north) instead of a writer. The writer is not allowed to care what anyone says. If the writer takes a minute out to give a damn about the spitum dripping from the mouths of slack-jaws or even the more pretentious high-speech of the nine-inches above-the-power-tie people, including those with vaginas who I fully believe will, in ten years, not be called women but "people with vaginas" thanks to Mitt Romney and his binding comment, heh heh heh...no we cannot care, us writers, what anyone says or we turn into bastards or evil dogs and end up living in the land of Nod and Sod.

Forgive me if this article is a bit out-of-sorts. My intelligence is fading. I'm turning into a southerner.

Just kidding. I LOVE IT HERE.