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Cold beer is expensive.
People talk funny.
And strange animals live and breed there. Several zillion bugs grow there, too. Three-pound mosquitos lives off the pints of blood they suck out of visitors.
Great songs have been penned about Georgia. But have you noticed a great many are blues numbers, about life’s miseries?
I think I know why.
Bandit, who lives in a trailer park, can tell you why. All told, she’s spent about three weeks in the university’s small animal hospital undergoing assorted repairs after suffering her misfortunes and incidences of poor judgment.
Many of those songs, it seems to me, are written about love gone sour, or women packing up and moving in the wee hours of rainy nights in Georgia. What remains are lonely, sweaty people with massive mosquito bites, a low blood supply and not enough money to drown their sorrows.
But for all of its shortcomings, Georgia has one very special point to make, a point which explains why suffering the blues is so hard to take.
Georgia boasts more cute girls than any state not bordering the Gulf of Mexico. You can look it up.
I went to a fraternity party the first night I was in town. Once I got over the fact that I am not 45 years old — although I felt that old amidst all these kids running around — I looked at some of the girls.
Let me tell you, when a Georgian says “How ’bout them Dawgs,” in no way,' shape or form is he talking about the quality of women within eyeshot.
In particular. I talked with Gayle —
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