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First let me set up my Southern bona fides, permitting me to talk shit about the people on Southern Charm.
“That’s why Carolina’s in Chapel Hill and USC’s in California and the university in this state always has been, always will be Clemson.” – Dabo
This is Cheerwine. If you don’t love it, you ain’t Southern.
That being said, I don’t think you need to be from South Carolina to talk crap about the cast of Southern Charm. You know who else can talk shit about the people on Southern Charm?
Yankees. Californians. Green card holders. Undocumented workers. French people. Fat kids. Skinny kids. Even kids with chicken pox. Anyone.
Because these Sandlappers are not good.
A lot of people think that “Bless your heart” is the Southern “Fuck you.” Yes, it can mean that. But it can also mean many other things.
Most of the time, when I say it, I mean “She don’t know no better.” But in the case of Southern Charm, when I say “Bless your heart,” I do indeed mean “Fuck you.” These people are petty, so I’m gonna be petty.
This girl is wound tighter than the the spiral binding on a church cookbook.
Cameran is from Anderson, South Carolina. What’s in Anderson? A motor speedway and the worst Belk you have ever been to. Cameran is cute and wears cute clothes. Her storyline is whether or not she should have a baby. She should not.
Dude, you’re from Delaware.
According to an Ancestry.com spit analysis, Kathryn has John C. Calhoun blood running through her veins. Here are three things you need to know about John C. Calhoun:
Coming from such good stock, Kathryn loves drugs and drama. She willingly had sexual relations with Thomas Ravenel. Also, Kathryn owns a fur coat. Sweetie, it’s the Lowcounty. That means she is sweating her tits off in that thing. Which means for most of the holidays and January, Kathryn smells bad.
Against my better judgment, I like Shep. But fat drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son. Do better, Shep. Instead of being the reason we have drug-resistant gonorrhea, be the person to find a cure!
It occurs to me that Shep is the same age as Representative Joe Kennedy.
This is Joe:
Rep. Joe Kennedy had some choice words for Paul Ryan about the GOP health care bill pic.twitter.com/7LY4yGQS9f
— NowThis (@nowthisnews) May 5, 2017
And this is Shep:
Poor Landon. This girl started a travel website and filled it with low-rez images. Also, telling me to check out The Beachcomber or the Chatham Bars Inn on Cape Cod? That’s like florals for spring. Groundbreaking.
My college roommates, Tara and Isabel (aka Arat and Smell), both grew up on the Isle of Palms and still live in Charleston. I sent a text asking what they thought of TRav, the “mayor” of Southern Charm.
My South Carolina guy friends don’t like him either.
Thomas Ravenel is a nasty, old man creeper. His kids live in the guest house, he’s a Republican, and he’s a drunk. Nothing about him is appealing in any way unless you like coke fiends who wear Duck Head khakis. And he has one thing in common with his baby mama’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather: TRav is a racist piece of shit.
When he pulls Landon aside and slurs that she is OC, i.e. “our class,” we all know what he means: moneyed and white. Of course, Landon giggles and agrees. OC POS. Both of them.
But the thing about about Thomas “I Love White Lily Flour in my Biscuits and in My Bed” Ravenel that bugs the most is his country house and acreage that he insists on calling a plantation.
Dear Southern White People, stop with this plantation bullshit. We have got to stop romanticizing places where the most terrible things happened to black people. There is absolutely no reason to long for antebellum romance or to get married anyplace that markets itself as a plantation. (Yes, I’m looking at you Blake Lively.) No decent person in Germany thinks, “Let’s get married and frolic at Bergen-Belsen!”
I’m not saying you have to sell off every plot of land where people endured slavery, torture, and subjugation. But at minimum, call your family home a FARM and stop saying your wedding vows at Southern Oaks. Do better, people! You know who is not going to do better? Thomas Ravenel. He’s a racist and will keep calling his polo grounds a “plantation.” Fine, when he dies and goes to hell and spends all of eternity with the ghost of John C. Calhoun and without a lick of bourbon, he will have wished he had done different.
One last thought, I would pay cash money to put TRav in the same room with Mr. Nancy. That’s an American Gods reference. If you aren’t watching, DO BETTER.
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