30
Aug
09

Texas. Wait, what?

First off, no, I do NOT know why Ron Paul, Obama, and Hilary Clinton are all on this map of Texas. I don’t care about John McCain and he can go fuck himself. He is old. Go put him in the middle of some sand duned desert in the middle of nowhere and leave him to die.

BUT GETTING ON WITH IT:

Tomorrow I leave for Texas. I’ve always wanted to go to Texas wearing boots, denim shorts and a plaid shirt for the lols, but never had the chance. However, I am going to El Paso, which is basically Southern California with more Mexican people. I have stereotyped the entire state of Texas and refuse to believe that everywhere isn’t sand dunes and rodeos until after I set foot off that plane and see it for myself.

Yes, the above photograph is what I so far think of every Texan on the planet. They all have accents. They all have beer bellies. They all have cowboy hats. They all drink beer in every waking moment of their day. They all have over-compensating vehicles. They all have huge ass belt buckles, too. The only thing in the state itself is rodeos, sand dunes, and farms. Oh, and of course, cows.

This is a negative trait about me: I make stereotypes. All the time. No, I’m not racist. I’m just talking stereotypes. But, we all do it. We all know they’re true most of the time. Go ahead, make a Serbian stereotype and I can assure of you I can apply it to myself or my family.

So why am I going to El Paso, of all places you ask? I met this guy, and I essentially met him through the CEO. We started talking, yeahhh, and then I was like, “LOL HOW ABOUT I COME TO TEXAS.” So then, well, I bought a ticket to El Paso, and woohoo, here I come.

But the honest truth?

I am scared of Texas and the Texans in it. No, not the guy I met, though. He’s not very Texan at all. El Paso is too close to New Mexico. I’m afraid I might have to slap some old Texan men for looking me up and down the wrong way. Oh yeah, all Texans are old, too.

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