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You listed Georgia twice like you’re trying to double your chances of actually finding a personality in that humid, suburban hellhole, sweetheart.

You rattled off half the map like a desperate fugitive on a road trip, yet managed to make geography sound as boring as a tax audit, honey.

Listing Florida and Georgia twice makes you look like a confused snowbird trying to find their retirement home in a dementia-fueled panic, pal.

Mexico isn't a state, but looking at your geography skills, I’m guessing you barely passed third grade without a map taped to your forehead.

Listing seven states and then hallucinating that Orlando is one is like trying to finish a marathon by tripping over your own shoelaces, Laura.

This is your captain, we're delayed because your hair is clearly more high-maintenance than the jet engine, and frankly, I'm terrified of it.

Taco Bell’s "better vegetables" might explain the head wrap, but you’re still talking like a man who just lost a fight with a McFlurry.

You sounded like a toddler reciting a geography textbook while having a stroke, and Washington, D.C. isn't even a state, you absolute muppet.

You recited those states like a malfunctioning GPS that’s drunk, stuttering through Vermont twice just to make sure we didn't miss your incompetence.

You listed Virginia twice like a man trying to convince his ex he’s over her, but hey, at least your geography skills match your memory.

You listed nine states like a geography-obsessed toddler, but congrats on knowing Delaware exists even if your delivery was pure elevator music.

With that nervous finger-in-the-mouth habit, you look like you’re trying to remember if you left the oven on or just your common sense behind.