The name's Skylar Floyd and I'm Oklahoma.
I was born on November 16, 1907, but I most certainly don't look it. I look about...maybe 17?
Excuse me? Do I look remotely girly? Just because I'm more feminine and pretty than most boys doesn't mean that I'm a girl! I can cook just fine too, thanks. Don't be surprised if you find me in the damned kitchen. 20 bucks I cook better than Texas's mother.
I'm not too fond of Texas's football team, though I love him. Not at all. Sooners can trump the ShortLonghorns any day of the week. I do, however, have a soft spot for Mississippi and all the other "hick" states. We're not what everyone thinks! What I don't like is everyone assuming that just because I live in Oklahoma I hate Texas. I don't really...just his football team. Most everyone thinks that we're stupid moronic toothless rednecks that drive pickups with gun racks and rebel flags in the back, while drinking a Coors in one hand and lassoing with the other, all while having county music blasting, then going home to the five acres with no trees and a mobile home in the center, and then chomping on our skol. Honestly, we don't do that.
Chocolate is for sissies.....and that's good, because I'm a sissy....No not really. I hate chocolate.
I guess I like America ok. I mean, he's terrible with money, but I guess that doesn't really matter. It doesn't make the world go around after all....
I guess Spain and France are my parents...after all Oklahoma was a reservation for indians during the Louisiana purchase and that's how we got it in the first place.
America totally hated my ancestors and sent them all to this lovely block of land that later became Oklahoma. Damned near everyone died along the way so we had to make like rabbits and repopulate. Luckily it was a success and we got people to settle for moving here. Lord knows how many little shit- I mean....how many little kids we would have if less that had happened!
What a typical day for Oklahoma. Most days consisted of waking up, downing an entire pitcher of iced tea, working on his truck, smoking like a freight train, and sitting in public places to solicit children. Like that wasn't creepy at all. Today was no different. With a sigh he blew out a puff of smoke and pushed his sunglasses back on top of his head, resting his chin in his palm. With a flip of his glittery- yeah, it's a sad day when that adjective is used for a boy- chocolate brown hair he smiled and put the cigarette out on his leg. They eyes the same colour as his hair glittered with anticipation as he spotted another boy, looked a little young, with the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen. Slinking over to him, he leaned against the wall and adjusted his shirt collar. So Oklahomo looked like a complete and total pedo- wait, OklaHOMO? Well, he had that name for a reason. Oh yes. Oklahoma was quite possibly the biggest flamer ever to exist. Sometimes he was afraid he was going to combust he flamed so hard. God, he was worse than watching Glee for 18 hours straight....and he tended to do that. A lot. Clearing his throat, he spoke. As usual, something lame and regrettable came out. "I don't think your name's Scotty, but you can beam me up anytime you'd like, delicate." Wow. If he had any self respect left to lose that line would have done it for him. He might be lame, but he only had people's best at heart. Southern hospitality. He might not be one of the geographically most southern, but he fit right in. After all, who else would tape niggers to the ceiling with him? Certainly not those damned Yankees.