The One Where Patwoman Goes On Vacation: Chapter Two: The Road Is Full Of Comedy

Nevertheless, I did eventually find a way to relax. Relaxation is the key to a great vacation, right? (Don't worry, T was driving.)


And I love road trips. Maybe some of you don't. I suspect that's because you think they're dull, or that there's nothing to do.

Au contraire.

You all know I can talk the ears off a dead man. So it's not like the car is quiet or anything. I am waxing poetic about 1)movies (I love a new spin on an old theme) 2)an old Dean Koontz novel I am reading at the time (and the evolution of his protagonists) 3)politics and 4)the influence of The Police on bands like Green Day. (Don't even get me started.)

But, you may not know, the road is ripe with comedy. Like the sign advertising "Used Cow For Sale."

Used for what? I don't think I like the sound of that.

And, of course, all the porn signs through the south. (And isn't that supposed to be the Bible Belt?) You can't swing a dead cat without hitting a billboard advertising "Big Jim's Boobie Bungalow" or "Adult Superstore" or even the unimaginatively named "XXX."

But my favorite sign--oh, how I wish I'd gotten the camera out quickly enough to take a picture--was for a sausage factory.

Called Cox Smokers.

It still makes me laugh. I'm so immature.