That town makes the
town my freshman roommate hailed from look like Paris.
The poor SOB who roomed with me was about as small town is it gets. Loved country music, actually did his homework when he came home from class, drank a lot of milk, went to bed early, went home on weekends, was terrified of girls, didn't want to drink until he was 21. I spent the majority of my freshmen year corrupting and terrorizing him. The first time he woke up and realized I was having sex in the same room, he jumped out of bed and ran down the hall like he saw a ghost (course, if he saw my white humping butt, it's about the same thing). I finally got him drunk one night and he turned into Rain Man, repeating everything over and over before finally punching the glass case to the fire extinguisher, cutting his hand so bad the RA had to drive him to the ER. Whole ride down "This is all Forrest's fault. He did this. This is Forrets's fault. Yeah, it's his fault. He did this. Forrest."
Despite all that, we got an apartment off campus together with two other guys the following year.