Dear Missouri,

If they were to bottle and sell your essence, it would be called Eau d'Snooze and the commercial would be a bunch of white people sitting in silence eating corn. You make me want to drink but I can't because I'm driving. Then again, a fiery auto crash may just be the thing I need to be shaken from this coma-like stupor you've put me in. The only thing keeping me going is the promise of Nebraska beyond your borders. Nebraska!! A state I, frankly, am still not convinced exists. This, Missouri, is how much you blow.

Love,
Tranny Dog