Okay, now you want to go honky tonking! I know you've learned your lesson about going to the woods and ticks. I should warn you in advance about southern honky tonk women before you come back here. Yep, a particularly nasty female version of the southern bubba lounge lizard. You have been to the woods and suffered! Now you want to chance the honky tonks?
Please listen to me just this once. Unlike ticks, these gals are after your Southern Comfort. If you don't have some of that to give them, or pour over them, then they will look to lift your wallet or car keys. Leave your checkbook at home so they don't sell ya a membership in Bubba's BBQ For Life Club.
You should notice that the parking lot attendant at the local Honky Tonk dive has a name tag stitched on his shirt that says, "Bubba" ... pay attention, please. That his uniform (since it -- the night and uniform -- is dark and smelly), looks much like a grease monkey's, rather than a parking lot attendant's jumpsuit. This information (remember now) might help when the police question you later in the evening.
Notice the "Redman drool" and the "white lightning breath" ... no? Well, this is Mr. Common-Law, Honky Tonk Woman's craftier-half. She means it when she southern-lovingly dubbed him with tattoo on her belly, the $29.95 special with "Bubba is Better Soused!" ... yep. Uh-huh, that is not a tattoo typo. Oh, you know souse? ... piggy-parts rejected by hotdog makers .... ummmmmm ummmmm, good stuff! Too early in the evening to be gagging, baby!
By the way, did you pay attention to the sign that read, "Self Parking" on our drive-by last night? That the parking was actually in the far-end of a national chain store's lot? ... most folks don't. The "attendant" usually has a "slim-jim" on him when frisked. Don't mess with him, baby. Getting deloused takes too long.
Like the bloodsuckers you dealt with last time you were here in the woods, these honky tonk lounge sucker babes won't make ya have fond memories of them like I can. Don't ya forget that, sweetie. No matter what they might promise you. They are figuring out the location of your assets. That smelly, drooling, slim-jim toting guy in the parking lot is the man of their dreams.
Gonna teach you about country gals, darling. Run some heat in the backseat tonight, baby. You get to see me act protective and possessive this time. I might even call you "MY MAN!" in the fray. Not all of 'em are my problem. Sadie's a real kind lady. Just stay outta the way, darling, with all the posturing. It's just short of hissing and scratching. I don't want ya to have to bail me out. For you, the spray of choice will be Mace this time, instead of Deep Woods Off.