I don't know how I'll live through the shame of falling hook, line & sinker for your "drunken southern boy" deceit. Great, now I have to move. I'll lose all my friends. When my dog finds out how gullible I am, he'll probably bite me. The barmaid slapped me. And to top it off, the good Sisters of Mercy send me hate mail!
Maybe I went to far with that "hate mail" thingy. You think?