Time for you to saddle up a horse named Sassy and ride!
It’s the Alabama way.
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Dude has no fucking clue how to ride.
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Ah so that’s what “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on” means!!!
I stole that from someplace else, so I can’t take credit for it.
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Is this how we end up with Bad Horse?
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God, the way that POS treats his horse. Animal control should come after him.
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Good idea. I wonder if they have a spay-and-release program in Alabama.
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For him and not his horse, right?
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I’d be okay with forgetting the “release” part.
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Photos from the trip. Most of them I put on my instagram with captions, but feel free to ask any questions. Warning if you are a vegetarian, there are some pics that might be upsetting.
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I am not a vegetarian, and that pig looks tasty 
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It was. I wasn’t able to eat all of what I had which bummed me out.
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OK. So I understand the pig.
But should I ask about the blender?
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Tha’s a fat kitty.
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That’s the mojo (mo-ho) it’s injected into the meat and gives it extra flavor.
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yeah, the kitty was a fat one. She is sweet, but fat.
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Right. That’s a Miami thing, brought over from Cuba.
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I’m coming to this thread late (I’ve been busy but after much work – so, so happy this week!), and after reading all posts:
- I’m glad you made it through okay.
- I’m so sad.
I live in my own bubble in Alabama, as I did in Mississippi, filled to the popping with raging liberals. Crazy, eccentric, wonderful people that had I not moved to these noxious states, I would have never met. There’s a reason why Southern US literature reasonates with such characters: They are real. At Mississippi State, I worked with a man who had graduated from the Sorbonne and only worked the reference desk in the library in his socks because he couldn’t abide shoes. For reasons I never understood (and it’s too late now – we found him dead in his apartment – I’m not kidding, but that’s a story for another day), he ended up in Starkville, MS.
I wish you could have met him and many others that I know in these two complicated, awful states. There are more than you think, and many, many less than I would like.
I share none of this to dispute your valid fears. I’ve also gone into a rural convenience store between Indianola and Yazoo City, asked for the bathroom, and was told by the woman behind the register: “It’s back there, but not for the n******.”
I went on a field trip with my daughter to a local farm that literally has shark teeth/fossils in its creek from the approximate Cretaceous period and had to listen to “two sides” of the story: the scientific (aka real) one and the Bible version. She goes to public school.
So. All of it is real that you may have heard or read: The best and the absolute worst. And as a white person, I can’t allay fears for POC because, well, how could I?
Without agenda or any hint of #notallanything because I despise that straw man, please know that there are those of us here who are trying, in whatever broken way we can, to be something other than that woman at the convenience store.
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pretty much…
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