That’s a pretty profound statement. It also makes tons of sense. There’s just no upside to thick ankled women. If one is out walking around somewhere, her ankles just might clunk together and create a potential accident situation for both herself and others. And thick ankles can’t be disguised, if woman wears white socks, they’ll look like softballs, if she wears orange socks it’ll be even worse as they’ll look like basketballs. Or maybe even pumpkins. And I don’t guess that there are any plastic surgeons out there who can help with this problem, after all, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone getting an “ankle lift” before. It’s a bad situation anyway you happen to look at it, and then some.

I’ve talked this over with Happy Divorcee, aka Pip, and he swears that he’ll never date a thick ankled woman. I’ve also talked it all out with Ray and Hugh, and we’ve decided that we’ll immediately institute a ban on any potential future visits by thick ankled women over at IHOP. We don’t need potential liability involved, nor can those thick ankles banging around together sound very good, it might even interfere with BTO, Elvis, and 2 Live Crew music that we all like to listen to. And that by itself is plenty of justification for ban.

Young men of Southeast (and beyond), take this column as a public service reminder for yourselves - you’ve been warned both by Godfather and The Brotherhood about thick ankled women, so take heed. Remember - you can live with a woman who has mean relatives, uses too much perfume, or makes you buy feminine hygiene products. That can all be dealt with by gritting your teeth and cussing under your breath. But big ankles? Man, if you go out and get hooked up with a thick ankled woman, you deserve to have your bank accounts drained as only Dr. Sholls can do it....

Ed’s latest book, “Rough As A Cob,“ can be ordered by calling River City Publishing toll-free at: 877-408-7078. He’s also a popular after dinner speaker, and his column runs in a number of Southeastern publications. You can contact him via email at: ed3@ed-williams.com, or through his web site address at: www.ed-williams.com.

You understand that word “Coke” can mean almost any kind of soft drink product.

You want to whup anyone who tries to inject political viewpoints or causes into Masters Golf Tournament.

You hear word “grits,” and you either think about a bowl and a spoon or Deborah Ford.

You understand that a cold beer is a good beer, and that worst make-out session you’ve ever participated in was still pretty darn good.

You’re convinced that if a college football team outside of South is picked to be national champion that whole system is rigged.

You still have a hankerin’ for a ‘76 black Trans-Am.

You understand why pecan syrup is best thing in world to put on pancakes or waffles.

You smile when you think about Chastain Park or Fox Theatre, and you smile even more when you think about Little Richard putting on a show in either.

You’ve eaten at Corkscrew Cafe up in Dahlonega.

You know that there’s nothing sweeter than a Georgia peach, and you really don’t care how that gets interpreted.

You fret aloud about how much food you’re going to need to lay in when weather forecaster tells you that a winter storm front may dump up to half an inch of snow in your area.

You’d never admit it, but even though you’re a Georgia fan you wanted to see Georgia Tech win NCAA basketball championship this past year because they’re from our great state.

The word Nancy Hanks means more to you than just name of a woman.

You might argue which hot dog is best, Nu-Way or Varsity, but down deep you thank God that they’re both served right here in Georgia.

You’d rather kiss an ape’s pink heiny than make that all important business trip up to New Jersey.

You well understand what difference is between “sippin’ wine” and “chuggin’ wine.”

You cuss kudzu and are sort of weirdly proud of it all at same time...