Rules For Living

A humorous list of rules for living here in HumidityLikeABrickWall recently appeared in the local paper. There were 99 in all, but a lot of them are location jokes that others wouldn't understand unless they were locals, so I've condensed them for your amusement.
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Complain. About anything.

Celebrate the solemn religious import of St. Patrick’s Day with clowns on scooters and wet T-shirt contests.

Mascara: Best applied at 80 m.p.h.

HumidityLikeABrickWall summers: “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.” Actually, moron, it’s both.

Consider anyone a “newcomer” whose family arrived later than the Fillmore Administration.

Don’t mess with Parking Services. (Those meter maids are hell on three wheels.)

Tourists spend a kazillion dollars here every year. Treat them with impatience and disdain.

If a tourist asks what the rank odor in the air is, say it's the smell of money. (We have a paper plant right near the tourist district.)

Always order sweet tea.

Say you like the heat even when the air feels like Campbell's Cream of Chunky Molasses Soup.

Show your support for the troops by displaying a magnetic ribbon made in China on your Japanese car.

Talk loudly in movie theaters. Everyone around you is dying to hear your opinions.

Be sure to crank up your stereo at intersections, too. We all love hearing how to "bitch slap that ho."

Resent college kids who are "different." But love the big bucks their parents send here.

Don't bother moving your car for the street sweepers. Just for the ticket truck that follows five minutes later.

Worship the God of your choice - or else.

Too fat to wear Spandex? Not in HumidityLikeABrickWall.

Leave the Spanish moss alone. Unless you want little visitors in your undies.

Your preparation for hurricane season? Lay in some extra martini mix. (And beer. And if the hurricane misses us, throw a party.)

Turn signal: Term unknown.

Yellow light: A signal for the next seven to eight cars to accelerate.

Red light: A signal for all but the first three to four cars to stop.

Blame the weatherman when it doesn't rain. Blame him when it does.

Any store with 20 check-out lines? At least 18 will be closed.

Local spelling: "Dog" = "Dawg." And folks wonder why our SAT scores look like wind-chill factors.

It's always someone else who buys that "special lingerie" at the adult 'bookstore.'

Anyone driving 65 mph on the parkway is considered a "slowpoke." Those traveling at 55 mph (the technical speed limit) are officially "parking."

Tailgating? Shoot, hon, we're just being sociable.

Calvinism: A local religion, popularly represented on a pickup's back window by a picture of a young boy urinating.

Fire Lanes: Excellent places to park. And so convenient to the stores. Even better than those "handicapped" spaces.

The Parkway: An ambitious project launched the same week as Egypt's Great Pyramid. Scheduled for completion later this millennium (tentatively).

Curbside recycling? Obviously a hippie Commie plot.

Expect your cable to go out when it rains. Or when it's partly cloudy. Or on any day that ends with "y."

The sign at the grocery store that reads "15 items or less, cash only" doesn't apply to you. Heavens, no.

Don't believe everything the downtown tour guides tell you. The Confederacy, for example, did not win the Civil War.

Coolly walk past the celebrities you spot in town. Then excitedly call everyone with the news.

Pamper your dogs more than your children.

Those roaches that are so big you can put saddles on them? They're "Palmetto Bugs."

Let us know when you see a ghost on a ghost tour. You'll be the first.

Don't look for many flights to Paris at HumidityLikeABrickWall "International" Airport.

You call them "horseflies." We call them "teeth with wings."

If you live on the southside, your out-of-town guests will want to spend all their time downtown. If you live downtown, they'll want to visit the malls.

Honk your horn when you're stuck in traffic. Repeatedly. We're sure all of those cars in front of you will magically disappear.

Synchronized traffic lights? Dream on ...

Hang out in the left lane of the interstate if you're older than 80 and can barely see over your Cadillac's steering wheel. Be sure to leave your turn signal on.

No bathing suit is too tiny for the beach. Especially if you resemble a sumo wrestler on steroids.

The editorial page at the paper isn't really conservative; it's just opposed to "change for change's sake" (like those new-fangled horseless carriages).

A fistful of quarters comes in handy when you finally find a parking space downtown. We hear they make excellent brass knuckles too.

Nothing says HumidityLikeABrickWall like a debutante with a tattoo on her ass.

Anyone standing in front of you in line at Wal-Mart will need a price check.

Stop signs are for sissies.

Watering restrictions are for that guy down the street. It's OK if your lawn looks like a tropical rainforest.

Yield when you enter a square. Unless you don't feel like it.

Appomattox?: A temporary setback.