The reason it's taken so long to get Tammi's page up is because she was on a countrywide road trip for the past 3 years visiting all the Naval and Coast Guard ports of call, and giving all the seamen she could the clap. Not to say that Tammi With an "I" is loose or anything, but whenever she spreads her legs a "now serving" sign pops up and someone starts calling for "Number 427... Number 427... Now serving number 427". Nah, I really shouldn't talk smak about Tammi With an "I". I've known her ever since I was 11 years old and I lost my virginity to her mom. Tammi's mom passed away a few years later after Billy Bob Lumpkin "The Pumpkin" accidently hit the "on" button to the hay baler they was doin' the nasty on. Ever since then, Tammi has made it her life's mission to shtoop every guy on the planet that her dear departed mom never got to (which is actually a lot less than you might think). You gotta have goals in life ya know. But every rednecky thing she does is for a good reason or purpose. Like that time she got my sister's dog addicted to nicotine... My sister bitches that she did it just to hear the dog cough and hack and watch it barf up its lungs, but Tammi With an "I" assures me that it was merely the only way to cure the dog's horrible condition of entitilitus. It wasn't until a few months later that I found out that what Tammi thought was "enitilitus" was really just a neutering.
Tammi With an "I" is the epitome of "Southern Belle". If the term "Southern Belle" can be taken to mean "classy white trash". But I really can't make fun of her all that much (mostly cause she goes for the nards). I mean, at least the woman knows what she wants in life: a cold beer every 30 minutes, a constantly burning cig on her lips, a shaggy, cheesy bearded, mullet-man between her thighs, and a 4X4 whose horn blares that tune that the General Lee does in the Dukes of Hazzard. A girl's gotta dream. I remember that one time Tammi With an "I" met that shirtless dude down at the Sea Wench Pub. He was all burly and hairy and dirty and drunk, and he seemed like the perfect match for our lovely Tam. Well, it didn't take much coaxing to get our shy little hicklette friend to walk up to the slob (I think the MegaPlayboy barely got out, "Hey, Tammi, there's a guy over th-," before she shoved him to the ground and stepped on his in-the-way chest as she sexily sauntered over to Cletus). The only words out of her mouth before they started tonguing were, "Mmmm, ah like your hair... Do ya have a truck?" It was kind of disgusting to watch the two of them go at it, but luckily for us they quickly made their way to the restroom in the back to finish they's business. Unluckily for Tammi With an "I" though, Cletus lied about the truck and his mullet was nothing but extensions.
Tammi has a lot of mad skills that help her get by in life. She's a talented mechanic (she's always talking about all the "army boy hummers" she's fixin' to work on that night), she can tap dance while smoking and doing shots, she's a beautician in training (you should see her cat's hairdo... I never knew felines could have sideburns), and she always has the best advice to give to those in need... and even those not in need. I remember this one time I was considering proposing to my darling Julie after that ultimatum she gave me the week before (something about her either getting a ring or a gun), Tammi With an "I" just shook her head and gave out the loudest "HeeeeeHAW!" I'd ever done heard. She laughed a bit then told me confidentially that "When a gurl asks ya fer a ring, Rossman, she don' want no diamond or nuthin'... All's she's really askin' fer is some anal action." Well, Tammi's advice may not have kept Julie by my side for the rest of my life, but at least it saved me a good 3 to 4 grand that I would never have seen again.
Tammi With an "I" is usually the most laid back person that I know. But when she gets rubbed the wrong way (either figuratively or literally) you'd better get the hell outta Dodge! It don't matter none if you're the one who pissed her off or not, or if you're a man or a woman, an old fart or a child... She'll kick in your nose with her steel-toed boots all the same. There was this one time that Corduroy Johnson gave her a bottle of Jack Daniels for her birthday, but after Tammi took a swig of it she turned into a violent hick rage and smashed the gift over his head before pumping her shotgun and shooting the shit out of the town square. It turns out that ol' Corduroy got a bit thirsty the previous night and sampled some of his gift for his then girlfriend, Tammi. A-fore he knew it it was the next day and the bottle was half empty. He didn't have the cash, brains, or time to buy another JD, so he just filled the half empty container up with pool water and soldered the cap back on. He learnt Tammi's number one rule for romancin' her the hard way: Never fuck with her liquor. Now poor Corduroy Johnson is having trouble finding another lady to suit... Guess it is kind of hard to hit the dating scene with any gusto when your jimmy has been permanently kicked inside your stomach.
Tammi With an "I" Quote: "Who's mah daddy? Ah dunno, but Ah'm about a third of the way through the 'M's and so far nobody tastes familiar." |
