Things I have learned in my short time in the South:

• There is no CJ’s, only Hardee’s.
• Jack in the Box is a distant dream. By that I mean it is 200 miles away.
• Don’t even ask about In ‘N Out Burger.
• Here it’s Edy’s, not Dreyer’s. Apparently the other guy who started the company wanted some credit, too.
• You can’t buy alcohol on Sunday except in licensed bars in certain areas, because the whole fucking state is the little town from Footloose.
• On a related note, you can’t buy liquor from grocery stores, only wine and beer.
• Continuing the theme: They don’t call the only places you can buy hard liquor “liquor stores”, they call them “package stores” or “bottle stores”. I guess it’s to confuse Al Qaeda.
• Chicken is best served with pickles. Don’t ask me why, but every chicken sandwich has pickles on it. I ordered chicken NUGGETS and the fucking things tasted like pickles.
• Everything, especially biscuits, needs gravy. I don’t even know how they make gravy from biscuits. I thought you needed meat juices.
• Bail bonds, DUI schools, and title pawns are everywhere. I have no comment.
• 3 Christian Contemporary stations isn’t enough, but 2 Alternative Rock stations is more than the market can handle.
• Turn signals are optional. In fact their use shows you to be an outsider or otherwise dangerously interested in living.
• Checking your mirrors or looking over your shoulder before you change 3 lanes without signaling is also optional and apparently not a standard part of drivers training.
• Good luck getting anywhere. I swear to God that streets here are 4-D objects: you can actually be at the intersection of a street and itself. I passed myself the other day. I didn’t signal. Fucker.

I’m sure there are some things I am forgetting, but that is the knowledge gained thus far. I’ll report again when I come to my senses.