My girlfriend and I think you can help us settle something here. I'm from Georgia and she's from Colorado. We're not white trash, but she says Georgia white trash is way different than Colorado white trash. I say white trash is white trash. It's all the same. Thoughts?
It's all rubbish:
You're wrong, she's right. And I'm always right.
Are you calling me white trash? Your mom's white trash.
So. Would you put Birdman and Britney Spears in the same crew?
No. The bad-tatted Free Bird would be snorting meth off of Denise Richards' inflate-a-boob in the weight room while Britney licks Cheetos off of David Spade's mini torso under the principal's desk. (The principal is adjusting his hidden cameras in the urinals. Because you wondered.)
See the distinction?
Eh. At least the visuals were fun.
Point is, each quadrant of the U.S. has cultural differences, which makes for varied brands of what you dub "white trash."
You're from the South. There are still traces of Stars and Bars on the good ol' Georgia flag. When your state still rides that pony, well, that's a whole different breed.
Just like Hollywood's "up-and-coming actresses" who pay rent through back-alley tugjobs, Florida has its off-ramp face-eaters (naked, on a bath salt time out) and Colorado's pasty and pale look like they've been eating muddy rock sandwiches.
There's a difference.
But at the end of the day, all come together, hug genitals and make more little trashlets to make the prisons go round.
Or something like that.
I like cowboys. I want a rough rider, 10-gallon hat wearer who will whisk me into the mountains. Where do I find those in Colorado?
Not from experience, but I think the nightclub Stampede in south Denver is a line-dancing good time. Or, maybe try Grizzly Rose off of I--25. Oh, and there's Cowboy Lounge in LoDo, but that might be cowbros. Looking for a gay old time? Charlies off of Colfax.
Or, you could also try Google.
But apparently that's what I'm here for.