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Do you meet new people and think: Y’all ain’t shit? AMANDA is your sign.

Amanda hasn’t even met you and she’s not impressed. Watch her light up this cigarette in a car with the windows rolled up and look at you like you’re not shit. If you smoke with the windows up and think about how life is one big disappointment, and also you need to go to Lowe’s cause your worthless husband is out playing golf? Welcome to Amanda Town.

Amanda’s only met three people in her life who were shit: Her daddy until he grew a ponytail and started hanging out with bikers, Tom Selleck on Blue Bloods but not Friends, and Nick Saban. Even Nick’s a play-to-play situation—because staring at a Tennessee DB handing out 11s to the crowd is definitely making Amanda reconsider his spot on the Is Shit list.

Amanda ain’t even impressed with these seats, even if everyone from her office was talking about oh, Charles from the Insurance Board got us suuuuuuch good seats, you’re gonna love ‘em. If Amanda wanted to see three hours of something from Tennessee get spanked, she’d watch some old Betty Page movies. That’s what Amanda thinks.

Amanda is curious about Charles being so quiet, and why other people think he’s so great at his job. Frankly, if you asked her? He ain’t shit, either, and his golf game is garbage. Just like Randy’s. Worthless men. Both of them.

God, does Amanda want a cigarette and a bitter look at the horizon.


Were you just thinking about tacos, and not really paying attention? And not just specifically in this moment, but all the time, wherever you go? Like, even when there’s things to do, like important work things, or a test at school, or in the middle of a life-threatening emergency, and you’re just thinking: Tacos?

Or in intimate moments with your significant other? Like when she’s really wanting some real communication, about where’s our life going, and what are you doing, just like, what is is all going to be for us, and when can she expect some real intimacy from you? And instead of focusing on the one thing you should love in life, your only thought is of a tiny little pocket of cilantro-topped heaven wrapped in corn tortilla sitting in your hand?

You’re a CAMERON. Tacos are ruining your life. They’re just ruining your whole entire complete damn life, Cameron.


Has the edible kicked in, and right now you’re just happy to be here? And also sort of trying to hold it together, because the music is much more intense than you thought, and the clapping feels like it’s coming from inside your ears? Did you spend the entire third quarter just picking at a shaker like it needed to be groomed?

Do you kind of want some popcorn, but the thought’s just the popcorn would feel too big and dusty in your mouth, even if you only put two pieces at a time in there, because you swear you could feel them swelling in your mouth like balloons? Is popcorn a meat? Are you talking yourself out of a panic attack, but also kind of enjoying it?


That is—Theres just a lot happening—Flies?

Shhhhh. It’s gonna be fine. You’re definitely a DANA sign, and you should definitely keep your sunglasses on for the moment.


Man, if you’re just here to make the best of a bad situation, you’re an ALAN. Alans are the ones who throw divorce parties, or swim away from a sinking bass boat without ever bothering to go back and salvage it. Alan’s “lost a car” before, and not temporarily. Alan has definitely run giggling from a smoldering grocery bag of fireworks in the backseat of a friend’s car, perhaps while that car was in motion with he and his friend inside it.

If you’ve ever:

  • woke up from a night of drinking with a strange dog chewing holes in your drywall
  • financed a pontoon boat
  • been married for less than ten days
  • gotten evicted, but thought of someone moving your stuff to the street to be easy savings on labor and paying movers
  • been hit by a car on 280 while you were walking home from the bar on the shoulder, and been left for dead, only to wake up, wash the blood off your shirt, and miraculously walk back to the bar mostly unharmed

...then congrats! You’re definitely an Alan, and you’re not insurable!


Do you always have your mouth open in pictures? Is the view always blocked by something? Then you’re definitely a MADISON sign, and your signature style is “hot mess who just told her boyfriend she could hit the bouncer with this beer bottle.” Which one? The one that just broke on the wall behind the bouncer, and got all 270 pounds of him walking in your direction. He doesn’t look happy! It’s fun being a Madison sign, especially because signs like the CAROLINE are there to help you, clean up your messes, and be the best friend you can imagine having.


Have you ever yelled at a Little Leaguer for not running a grounder out and been escorted from the field by local law enforcement? Hello, MICHAEL signs. You’re a passionate man, but a prepared one who knows how to survive the taxes your big feelings levy on your person.

If you’re a Michael, you have the wherewithal to pull your sunglasses up on your forehead so the person you’re enraged at can see the hell-daggers in your eyes. Sure, you’ve been knocked out in a barfight in Mobile—but you knew damn well it was gonna happen, and prepared accordingly. The paramedics really appreciated how you wrote your wife’s number on your arm in Sharpie and even included your blood type and known allergies on there, too.


If you’re a fun-loving but responsible type who enjoys a light-hearted bit of rivalry while keeping it all in perspective, well you’re definitely a CAROLINE sign. You’re the one who remembers where everyone parked, keeps the tickets on hand, and who quietly tips off the stadium cops about the unlicensed pistol you planted in Madison’s purse. Caroline is sick of Madison’s shit. Lose my number, Madison! Your only friend is the bail bondsman now. Roll Tide.


You’re the responsible sign, CHARLES not CHUCK.

If there’s a deadline, you’ll make it. If there’s a spiral ham that needs to be picked up at exactly 3 p.m., you’ll be there at 2:50 with a cooler, because you believe if you’re on time, you’re already late. Surprises aren’t your thing, which is why it’s weird that you can’t stop thinking about that night on 280, and how it all happened so fast.

And how, after you’d washed the blood off the windshield and hidden the truck in the car for a month just to be sure, you sometimes found yourself driving down 280 at night, looking for a pedestrian walking along the shoulder—and hoping it would “happen” again, because you’d never felt so alive, more alive than you’d felt in your whole adult life.

Sometimes it was all you could think about, staring into the distance and feeling alone in crowd of thousands.

Maybe you were wrong, Charles. Maybe you like surprises after all.


Do you have a goatee? You’re a DAVID sign. You want people to know you have a little style, but not too much. Davids have some extremely internet opinions on things because they usually have goatees. Are you crazy about the Tide defense AND the gold standard? Do you have questions about depth and inexperience at linebacker, but also about the government’s involvement in 9/11? POOF. The Sorting Houndstooth Hat places you firmly in #TeamDavid.


Signs you might be a MARK?

  • you say “what the shit” five times a day
  • your relationship with technology is largely adversarial, which is why you hold your phone up to your face no matter what you’re doing because it works better that way, that’s science
  • Just huh?
  • I can’t even—
  • The danged thing is—
  • These people, I tell you what

Do you need a nap just thinking about all this? Hi, Mark.


KEVINs are cautious, guardian personalities. On the one hand, they recognize the moment, and sometimes even take three seconds to savor it. On the other hand, the Kevins of the world know full well that at any second they could be torn to limb by an angry horde. A good rule: If you’re the person running away from danger while Alan is running toward it, then you’re a Kevin.


Finally, if you’re a free spirit who just wants a good time, loves the outdoors and dogs, but also doesn’t want to be photographed here because the disability settlement with his former employer specifically stated that standing and raising your arms above parallel? You’re a JACKSON sign.

If you have any information on Jackson, or other photos of him displaying surprising mobility in public, please call the Alabama Department of Insurance and ask for Amanda in Investigations. She’s been looking for his very-much-ain’t-shit ass for a minute now.