There is less white trash at a cotton ball factory.

This more than likely makes me a bitch, but whatever…

My therapist is trying to get me to stop saying I’m white trash, but today I learned my father proposed to his second wife in an IHOP in 1985, and she ACCEPTED. So when I talk to my therapist tomorrow, I’m looking forward to seeing her trying to therapize THAT, and tell me white trash is not in my DNA somewhere.

Wait, do those 23 and Me kits test for white trash? That’d be amazing — get some SCIENCE on this shit.