We Rule the Highways

Admittedly, this little ramble has more to do with the state of Georgia than the city of Atlanta, but whatevs. I like to bend the rules.

The Man Friend/Partner for Life/Love Monkey and I just finished a 994mile (one way) jaunt to the wiles of Omaha, Nebraska for reasons I won’t bore you with. What’s relevant here is that in order to get from A-Town to O-Town in his adorable, shiny, nimble Mini, we had to pass through the following states: Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri and lastly – Nebraska.

First, I’ll point out that we have more potty stops than any other state. This rules. This especially rules when you’re finally starting to consume your RDA of H2O. Yeah. Hello, gerbil bladder! I didn’t know you were coming with us!

Second, I’ll say (and my body can corroborate what my mind is churning out) that our highways are smoooooooove compared to other states. Especially St. Louis, MO where we thought we’d hit a musk ox but it turned out to be a gap between cement segments. Our smoooooveness rules when you’re in a tiny car with tight suspension, have bewbs and didn’t wear a jog bra for the trip.

Lastly, I’ll point out that we have better signage and indicators that there’s a COFFEE SHOP, BY GOD I’M ON A ROAD TRIP HERE, PEOPLE.

So that’s it. We pretty much rule. Our highways are superior. Get out there, let your butt feel for itself.

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