It's full of crap

"Granby, Connecticut. I live in that town below the notch that Massachussets has claimed so that 'it doesn't fall off' ". That is exactly what I don't answer when someone asks me where I'm from. It's a lame joke, kind of like the town itself. Our only bragging right thus far is that we have the highest horse per capita in Connecticut. So I'm not kidding when I say it's full of crap. In the literal sense, you get a waft of manure after you step out of the car, which really does a lot for the shower you just took. As you can imagine, the town is full of rednecks, or to put it nicely, cowboys/girls. First of all, I wouldn't know why someone would want to be a cow-person. It's like, 'Why is Jimmy pooping on the lawn?' 'Oh, he's a cow-boy.' Secondly, I'd like to address the music. Oh dear, the music. I've had to hear about people wanting to marry any and every singer that is shirtless in a cowboy hat and I guess there are a lot. I've seen a select few wear white on wednesdays, and heard about racially-based graffiti in the boys bathrooms. If I had a penny for everytime someone talked about hip-hop music... well, I'd have a penny. So, you can imagine my confusion when I'm on the phone with someone from Hartford who asks "What hood you rep?" Hood? I live in a cornfield...