By Jim O'Leary
An e-mail newsletter for and about Waverly people, used with permission in the Herald Journal and on this web site.
Feb. 2, 2004
You know who you are if: you surf the Internet
Here, in South Texas, the invasion from the north is full upon us.
All the IHOPS, Denny's and Luby's parking lots are filled with Minnesota license plates.
If a herd of senior citizens from Iowa comes in to the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet, stand aside or you may be trampled.
There is a sincere effort to entertain them all, though, no matter which state they come from. A guidebook has been issued by Chambers of Commerce in South Texas to help identify them:
You know it's a Northerner if:
Instead of referring to two or more people as "y'all," they call them "you guys," even if both of them are women.
They think barbecue is a verb meaning "to cook outside."
They think Heinz Catsup is really spicy.
They would never stop to buy something somebody was cooking on the side of the road (e.g. boiled peanuts).
They don't have any trouble pronouncing "Worcestershire Sauce" correctly.
They don't know what a moon pie is.
They've never eaten okra fried, boiled or pickled.
They eat fried chicken with a knife and fork.
They don't see anything wrong with putting a sweater on a dog.
They drink "pop" instead of "cokes," RC Cola or Mountain Dew.
They think more money should go into scientific research than to pay the salary of the head football coach.
They can't spit out the car window without pulling over to the side of the road and stopping.
They don't know anyone with at least two first names (i.e. Jim Bob, Billy Ray, Bubba Dean, Joe Dan, Faye Ellen or Willie Mae).
They don't think they talk funny.
On the other hand, you know someone is from South Texas if:
Their name really is Jim Bob.
Their work or classes are canceled because of dangerous 40 degree weather.
They aren't surprised when they see people wear tank tops at funerals.
They think of the major food groups as beans, tortillas and beer.
Their town mascot is a grapefruit.
The word "honeymoon" means San Antonio. They never heard of Niagara Falls.
They still wear their letterman jacket 10 years after high school.
They consider Corpus Christi a metropolis.
Their idea of a traffic jam is 10 cars waiting to pass a camper headed for Brownsville.
Their local paper covers national and international headlines on one page, but requires six pages for high school football.
They might think 98 degrees is pretty warm. They think the seasons are hot, pretty hot and damned hot.
They have to switch from heat to air conditioning in the same day.
The Rockport Shrimporee, Corpus Christi's Bayfest, and the Robstown Livestock Show are the major social events for the year, along with the annual King Ranch Breakfast.
They think the television weatherman is a celebrity. They think they don't talk funny.
Californians are really funny.
Not to be outdone by all the redneck, hillbilly and Texan jokes, here is some more wisdom gleaned from the Internet.
You know you're in California when:
Your co-worker has eight body piercings and four tatoos, and none are visible.
You make over $300,000 and you still can't afford a house.
Your child's third grade teacher has purple hair, a nose ring, and is named Jupiter.
The guy at 8:30 a.m. at Starbucks, wearing the baseball cap and sunglasses who looks like George Clooney, really IS George Clooney.
Your hairdresser is straight, your plumber is gay, the woman who delivers your mail is into S and M, and your Mary Kay rep is a guy in drag.
You pass by a high school and most of the kids you see are talking on a cell phone.
Both you and your dog have therapists.
Your Lexus SUV has never engaged its four-wheel drive.
Your neighbor has a three-car garage, but all his cars are parked outside including his kid's BMW,
Gas costs a dollar a gallon more than anywhere else in the United States.
The Terminator is your new governor.
So long as I am robbing the Internet of forwarded jokes, here is one to make me stop and think. It's in the form of an endorsement for a soap company.
I'm writing to say what an excellent product you have. I've used it since the beginning of married life, when my mom told me it was the best.
In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white dress. My husband started to berate me about my drinking problem.
One thing led to another and I ended up with a lot of blood on my white blouse, as well.
I tried to get the stain out using a bargain detergent, but it just wouldn't come out. After a quick trip out, I stopped and got a bottle of liquid Tide with bleach alternative, and all the stains came out! They came out so well, in fact, that the DNA tests were negative!
I thank you once again for a great product.
Well, gotta go. I have to write a letter to the Hefty bag people.
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