A shitty travel poem of sorts

Cab ride tastes like Axe body spray.

Driver uses the lane stripes like guide rails on amusement park cars.

Left tire on anything painted seems to be the way he learned.

Who am I to tell him that the fast blinking and other cars honking means his turn signals are out?

Board on time.

Storms shut down the airport.

Two hours and fortyfive minutes on the runway.

CRAP! Orlando during a pile of Spring Breaks.

Rental seat is wet.

No car to switch.

Hotel is 5 miles from Disney.

Really need to put more thought into trip planning.

Tired as hell but wide awake. 

Travel is getting old.

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