Here in Virginia, we have traditions. Old, old, traditions that have been handed down from the times when Richmond was the frontier. They involve feathers, sticks, tar, rails, lots of string, torches, dark nights and lots of hootin' and hollerin'.
Now, I am going to give all the goodies I was gonna give Jeff to the Goodwill store. But that doesn't mean we can't still have a good time with the varmint. He is just nervous about the snakes and the earwigs, and the jitters have caught up with him. I think staking him down near a good campfire and plastering him with the traditional regalia worn by humbugs and ne'er-do-wells would change his mind completely about the real nature of the inhabitants of the state, its wildlife, and the brotherhood of the bow.
You can't tease us and run, Jeff. You talked a good "date" with us, and we're gonna get one!
Now, if someone can come up with about five gallons of tar, I will supply the candy thermometer and some fluffys from Pilgrim's Pride. :D
Killdeer