So much of our time on the road is occupied with music. We rarely ride without the soundtrack of life playing in the background.
I turned around to see a very tall, very dirty man. He had a duffel bag over his shoulder and was holding a spray bottle full of yellow liquid.
We live in Southern Ohio and when we're traveling towards home on I-75, we always pass the Butter Jesus.
My husband will speak to any human being within earshot. Actually, most of the time, they speak to him first.
Her look said something to the effect of, "Please leave here before you stupid yourself to death in the parking lot."
No matter how dismal things seem, if you can find one thing to laugh about, you've won.
I've held out on the glasses thing. I tell myself as long as I can see the computer to type, I'm good.
It's a completely strange experience to walk into a truck stop and see a whole rack of magazines with your picture on the front.
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