Last weekend, my friend Heather and I spent four days as pretend hillbillies.  We’ve always wanted to go to the Deep South– land of deliciously heavy foods, porch drinking, adorable floppy-lipped hound dogs, and people with two first names and cousins for lovers (let’s forget the racism and gross ignorance

It’s kind of insane that after 25 years as a broke-ass, I had never taken the Chinatown bus until last weekend.  Don’t get me wrong, I adore budget travel– I’ve been cramped on overnight buses in Portugal, watched a boy floss his teeth with twine as he sat across from