Southern girls are God's gift to the entire male population. There is absolutely no woman finer than one raised below the mason-dixon line and once you go southern may the good Lord help you - you never go back

I believe a family just isn’t complete without skeletons. My dearest momma clean bit off my daddy’s nose right around the time they divorced.

Whenever I’d get howlin’ over something, he’d grab my ass up from wherever I was and head straight for the john. Momma said my head would get banged up along the way, but she said itwas probably bein’ dunked under water that made me stupid.

Finally, we entered Chetaube County, my imaginary birthplace, where the names of the little winding roads and minuscule mountain communities never failed to inspire me: Yardscrabble, Big Log, Upper, Middle and Lower Pigsty, Chicken Scratch, Cooterville, Felchville, Dust Rag, Dough Bag, Uranus Ridge, Big Bottom, Hooter Holler, Quickskillet, Buck Wallow, Possum Strut ... We always say a picture speaks a thousand words, but isn’t the opposite equally true?

True, beneath the human façade, I was an interloper, an alien whose ship had crashed beyond hope of repair in the backwoods of Southern Appalachia—but at least I’d learned to walk and talk enough like the locals to be rejected as one of their own.

Get in here and make me some dinner—now, woman.""News flash, Michael, you're supposed to be evil, not redneck!

You think all I can do is frog legs? I got Legs on my mind, alright, but yours. I’ll do whatever it takes the save the ass on top of ‘em and everything else, you hear me?

Well, fella, as much as I’d like to stick something up your ass, it ain’t gonna be my finger or anything else on my body—sorry to disappoint.

How many of you were born in Oklahoma? Yeah, never raise your hand to a question like that again. We’re the mecca of beer-drinkin’ rednecks.