Have you ever wanted to just take off on one of those spontaneous road trips? Just you and your buddies, on a wild adventure.

Yeah, me too.

And that’s exactly what I did not do this weekend.

Instead, I spent exactly 5 hours, 23 minutes, and 17 seconds trapped in a torture chamber disguised as a car with the dear woman who gave me life and my step-father.

The first three and a half hours consisted of my mother in the passenger seat complaining that I drive “like a ham-handed goat with no eyes” and stating that she needed her phone so that she could call her family and say goodbye. There was also my step-father leaning forward from the back seat, inhaling incredibly loudly directly into my ear each time another vehicle came within five feet of us.

Then, while I was driving on a completely empty, straight stretch of road (quite safely at the speed limit, I might add), my mother had a sudden outburst declaring that she “could not handle any more of this reckless driving” and demanded that I pull over at that instant.

And so, my ham-hands and I moved to the backseat where we silently glared into the rear view mirror.

But, that was only the first half of this epic journey. In the second half, the roles were reversed and I was the one sending up prayers to the great Lord above, begging him to allow me to return in one piece so that I could tell my dog that I love him one last time.

Based on this, I’ve determined that ham-hands are indeed a trait inherited from one’s mother.

Oh, and we can’t forget the fact that prior to our departure, somebody made a rather questionable decision about what they should eat and they were now releasing some sort of deadly gas that was slowly eating away at my flesh. Although, both my step-father and mother claimed it wasn’t them, and I’m very certain it wasn’t me.

You know what? I bet it was one of those darn pig butts that I evidently have for hands. That must be it, now everything adds up!

And now, road trips are officially added to my List of Loathing.

Please enjoy this photo of my dog frolicking joyously through the forest because it in no way relates to this post and makes me feel slightly less like smashing things (with the hams attached to my arms).

Jarvis frolicking