I just drove under an overpass in Florida where three teenage girls had their pants down and their bare asses exposed to all of north-bound 95. Now that's class.
I like Georgia. It's sunny, famous for a fuzzy fruit, and pleasantly warm. However, the station where I recently purchased gas smelled like it was constructed entirely out of cats.
I just saw my first genuine, thumb-waving hitchhiker standing on the side of 95. Don't worry...his name is Joe and he seems like a very nice person. Relax, Mom, I'm just kidding. I actually ran him over.