Sweet potato pie and shut my mouth

I have met some charming motherfuckin' yankees, I'll allow. Perfectly lovely people that I'd be glad to drink a cold beer with. But some of you bastards are sorry, and I intend to tell you about...

I was raised a polite southern girl. I ain't always practicin', but you can be damned sure that I know when to use those manners. For example, when I'm talkin' to my elders, or a stranger I'm forced to deal with in a business situation. I always say "sir" or "ma'am" because that is what I was taught to do, and it makes good sense to me. Yankees seem to find my conversational courtesies an indication of my feeble-mindedness. I once talked to a yankee on the telephone that seemed offended by the way I answered his questions.

"You keep saying sir. Were you in the military or somethin'?"

"No sir, I'm just southern. That's what we do."

"Well, you can stop sayin' it now."

"No sir, I don't believe I will."

Fuck that guy.

And ya'll talk too fast. Like ya'll can't appreciate the time it takes to get to the end of a really masterfully told story. It's hot and humid down here, why would you hurry anything? Timing is everything friends, and time equals money is a lie.

And everytime ya'll get mad at a southerner, ya'll wanna bring up slavery. That's gonna hafta stop. People have been killing and enslaving people since the dawn of man, and they continue to do so, and nothing is ever gonna change that because we are big dumb human animals. The English were (and in some cases still are) responsible for the torment and torture of people on multiple continents, and no one ever brings it up to them. And, I would like to add, I have never owned one slave in my entire life, but have worked as a minimum-wage slave for rich men more than once. And I'll allow, it was by-gawd terrible, but I don't bring it up to every rich person I meet. That would be stupid.

And why is it always with the in-breeding jokes? I'm not sure what's going on in my momma's side of the family tree, and I very well may be inbred. Don't count for much though, because I am a genius. And if you don't believe me, you must be stupid. And if you call me inbred, cracker, or redneck, I am likely to shoot you. Because you know us inbred, redneck crackers, we're crazy about our guns.