Last night after Tom Lee emptied, throngs of stumbly folks on cell phones descended upon what I have annoyingly begun to refer to as the Ground Zero of Douchebaggery* (at least on the weekend) — Beale Street. And who followed the throng? Why, me of course.

And as is the custom in the belly of the Bible Belt, the Lord’s army was out in full force, proselytizing and informing the sodomites and the fornicators and the evil-music fans (but didn’t anyone tell them? Three 6 Mafia played the clean versions!!!) that their souls were as good as charred if they didn’t come to their senses and get right with the Lard. And what better way to get that message across than to display awesome signs to the drunken souls haunting Beale Street:

True, but have you tried their burgers? Totally worth a trip inside.

* I say that with much affection