Growing up in the Midwest, I was not privy to the rite of passage that all Northeastern kids experience when they drive down with their families to Florida. Just south of the North Carolina border lies the aptly titled, bigoted little joke know as South of the Border. What is noteworthy about it is that billboards appear for hundreds of miles tauting the delights that are to be had at South of the Border. Husband, hailing from Long Island, reminisces about this place all the time. He was surprised at how many more buildings the place has sprouted since he was last there when he was 10 (or so).

Dr. P and I stopped in there because we had to. Not only technically (both of us had to pee), but morally we were obligated to go and gawk. Our favorite item was the "cheap asshole" toilet paper. At $2.59 a roll, it was quite the misnomer. Still, hilarious.

A fine token obtained on the road was my insulated coke mug. (Please ignore how awful I look in this picture, which may not be hard because the Coke mug is so dazzlingly large.) I posed for this in Dr. P's shiny new apartment. I wanted to do so while I was driving, but that turned out to be absurdly dangerous for many reasons, one being that the thing needs to hands to lift while full.