I Wasn’t Born in Texas, But I Got Here at an Average Speed
I’m a Yankee. Born and raised in the armpit of the Rust Belt. In the land of fallen big box giants, frost-bitten morale and Wonder Bread tans.
I have not lived in the North in over seven years, but one can never really change where they’re from, right? Where you were born is in your blood. Always.
The fact that I’m a Yankee is not something I advertise, but it’s difficult to hide when you develop instant heartburn just looking at Polvo’s salsa. The sweat on your (more…)