Growin up in the dusty hills of North Georgia, moonshine was the only real game in town. So Georgia ran corn liquor at night to pay the bills and souped up cars during the day to run from the sheriff. One day another mechanic bet her a grand he could beat her in a drag race, and she said "boy, you're crazier than a run-over dog and I'm so poor I'd have to borrow money to buy water to cry with if I lost." But she took him on and beat his ass like cool whip beats cream. Ted Turner was in town and, impressed by what he saw, invited her to be the emcee for the redneck games in East Dublin. She said, "Ted, you're so bucktoothed you could eat corn on the cob through a key hole--but I'll do it." At the games she met Stranglehold, the bad-assinest demolition derby team in all of Joliet, Illinois. She followed them home and found out that there were girls playing roller derby and she joined them quicker than Jimmy Swaggart joined the church. The rest, as they say, is history. She'd like to say she's sorry but she lived to tell about it. And she lived to do a whole bunch more crazy, stupid shit.