"Sorry folks…I’m busy getting railed in the ass by a hillbilly.
Please leave your message at the *grunt*."
As you’re reading this, I’m either on my way…or have arrived…in Mississippi for a 3-day business trip.
Regardless, I believe that I’ve packed all the essentials for surviving in Mississippi:
1) Cutoff jean shorts
2) A houseboat
3) A flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off
4) Chewing tobacco (also known here as “gum” or “breakfast”)
5) Fake hillbilly teeth (so I fit in)
6) Anal lube (although, I believe most hillbillies use “grits” for this)
I'm also convinced I'm going to F*CKING HATE THIS TRIP because of an email I got from one of the people I'm meeting down there.
Here is an exerpt:
"I would like to have yall's cell phone numbers so that I can contact either of you in case yall don't make it in here on time."
You're f*cking joking me.
Not only did you write the word "yall" in a f*cking cross-company email...
...but you did it TWICE IN ONE SENTENCE?!?!?
Jesus H. Christ.
I'm f*cking annoyed already.
When I see you, Jethro, I'm poking you in the eye with a f*cking stick.
See how y'all like that sh*t.
If I can, I’ll see if I can provide a couple of updates here and there when I have time…
…in between the square dancing, banjo playing, and skeet shooting (I believe “skeet” is the Mississippi word for “African Americans”).
Man…I sound stupid already.