A Purple Dilemma

Come on...you know you want to see it.

As a little girl you thought the General Lee was cool, but Daisey Duke was dumb. Then you grew up and fell in love with that hip little pink Carmengia Molly Ringwald drove, even if you thought ol' Molly was a complete dope, too. Now, well into your thirties, you look back and realise that even though you're deeply embedded in motherhood and all it's attendent responsibilities, your heart still yearns to be behind the wheel of something rowdy, yet refined. And obviously the sensible little CRV in your garage isn't gonna cut it.

This need for speed in a sartorially satisfying package presents another dilemma, though--a more fundamental dilemma: clearly that beating purple mass within your ribcage is really the comingling of red and blue state passions. The mid-westerner in you loves the wide-open interstate and longs for a sixth gear to speed along it, but the suburban, mildly overeducated (and definately underpaid) artist in you begs for a European edge to her fun. You get annoyed at bathroom humor, but you can't pass up a chance at a snarky social commentary. You hate fart jokes, but you'd still giggle if somebody farted in church.

So do you go cringe at a bunch of thirteen year old toilet humor for the chance to bust your gut on a very funny, funny premise that pokes fun at every red state stereotype?

It's a purple dilemma.

Come on...you know you wanna.