When you drive through Virginia, North and South Carolina and half of Florida, you stop at a lot of gas stations and truck stops. I’ll tell you this much. The further South you go, the worse it gets with the nightmarish stuff they sell at gas stations or truck stops.

Let’s start off with something that is just kind of funny:

Diet Country Breeze? Diet Country Breeze? How can a country breeze be fattening? Well, considering the size of the asses I saw in the Southern parts of the United States, them there country breezes have to be fattening.

Not scared yet? Oh, worry not. Its coming, oh yeah. Another horror? OK:

Gnomes, nest, galaxy of the ugly. Want a close up? I got that too:

Good lord. These ugly crap looks like what you see in the before pictures from some home makeover show. Now I know where all of that crap comes from. Believe me, there is A LOT more. Hold on to your ass:

Sorry for the blurriness on this one, but I had to get the tree trunk, featuring the face:

And it did not end there:

That one was shot from the hip, meaning I wasn’t exactly looking through the lens. With the EOS behemoth, the photo thing is significantly less inconspicuous, so sometimes I have to pretend I am fiddling with the camera to take a photo. More Native Americans? OK:

I know, right? The bubble wrap chaps are fierce, as my hero Jay Manual (aka Small Orange Man) would say. I did per usual, save the bestest for the lastest:

The bulldog is wearing a Confederate flag, carrying a gun and a cap from the “War of Northern Aggression” or “unpleasantness.” I think I stood there laughing for a good 10 minutes when I saw this particular tchotchke. I felt sorry for the bulldog, one of my favorite dog breeds. Make it stop, make it stop! Its all fakakta, I tell you. FAKAKTA.