Traveling down south is always a scene for debacles and stereotypical folk. Sure, the food is good and the weather is warm, but as a Northerner... it is just too, scooze my French, fucked up. I spent a week in Charleston recently. You will never, anywhere else but in the durrty South find broke-ass, beat-up, barely-habitable, crumbling-by-the-second shacks that some call 'home' less than a quarter mile from some of the biggest Southern mansions on the water. Behold, my favorite shack (favorite because I strongly admire the people who can actually claim residence here and call this home) right outside a gated community with one of the dopest houses I have ever seen:
If this 'house' were in Maryland it would most definitely be condemned by now. And not a mile away stood this monster:
The view from the private pier out back on the water...
A highlight of my week in South Carolina was the realization that Southerners may just be struggling slightly worse than us Northerners in this shitty economy. This message to me came in the form of Sonic Burger. Specifically, the stiff competition for a job as a burger flipper, fruit cake roller skater who might make a tip as big as the change between the total check and an even dollar bill.
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