Once upon a time, off the golden pebbles of Dixon Industrial Boulevard, down a long, car-destroying, narrow path overlooking a ravine, lived a young girl of strong intellect and fair complexion. An animal lover – mainly of the canine and penguin varieties (though there were none of the latter roaming the lush landscapes of central Georgia) – avid art enthusiastic, and die-hard Braves fan, this girl called Ashley was one of the few people who knew Chipper Jones’ birth name. 

Able to beat you in Trivial Pursuit one second and then bake you a delicious apple pie the next, Ashley is a rare combination of wit, domestic skills, and unbelievable competitiveness.  Relocating to the metropolis of Atlanta via the village of Smyrna, Ashley has taken it upon her shoulders to defend the reputation of Atlanta as the greatest city in the world. She is steadfast not only in her love for this state capital but also in her musical taste (she has often been regarded as a music snob). For nearly a decade she has devoted much energy to a English trio named Muse. If they happen to be performing in the tri-state area, Ashley will most definitely be front row center waving her bra in the air (Sporting enough floozie juice to power the entire city of San Diego, Ashley’s sense of modesty is as nonexistent as a hobo’s, and she’ll eagerly prove it by disrobing if you give her just a little to drink). 

Alas, Ashley missed her calling as a cartographer. If she had pursued this endeavor, the world would be blessed with towns and cities named after local produce and natural resources. Instead ours young maiden went in the direction of advertising and marketing. Her vast knowledge of Harry Potter and romance novels makes her the nerdiest and most suited person to ever sell sex toys. With her creative juices focused on big business letterhead and giant dildos, Ashley likes to de-stress with some (a lot of ) sweet nectar (sometimes a mixture of rum and diet coke or perhaps a cold Smirnoff Ice) then make her way to the stage at the Atlanta karaoking institution 10 High and proceed to blast you with her most awesomely wasted I Believe in a Thing Called Love.  After an evening of singing her little heart out, she’ll make her way home to the two men in her life, a small furry Japanese named after a cartoon rat and a tall furry Puerto Rican named after a real life Alabamian (three Alabamians to be exact).