The largest collection of people with questionable parking skills clearly held a convention in Houston this week.

The worst of the worst collectively gathered in the parking garage at St Luke’s Hospital.

Chels and I took zero pleasure in seeing them receive parking citations. (I’m totally lying. Those asshats deserved it!)

Houston lacks drainage.

Drainage wouldn’t help fix the larger problem of crappy drivers.

Traffic circles are ridiculous (I refuse to debate this)

The upside of Houston traffic is that it gives you plenty of time to eat your kolaches, drink your coffee, and admire the skyline (which is especially pretty during sunset).

I realize how much I’ve missed road trips with Chels.

Sometimes, *I* am “one of those drivers.”

My GPS may need a therapist.

Corn dogs and Pringle’s are still excellent road trip food.

Nothing is more depressing than shoving your hand into a Pringle’s can and realizing you ate the last Pringle 5 miles ago.

There is a Galaga machine outside the restroom of the Exxon in Teague, Texas on Interstate 45. I spent 50 cents and did some real damage to my already-damaged hands and wrists.

I realized that I don’t mind pain while playing Galaga.

In case anyone is wondering, I still rock at playing Galaga.

Also, in case anyone is wondering, there are still restrooms that have condom vending machines. I wonder about the marketing team who come up with the names and designs. I’m kind of impressed.

“More Than A Feeling” by Boston is still a pretty great road trip tune.

I love that my dog is always happy to see me. (My cats are happy too, but they just play it cool)