The major interstate my husband and I travel most is I-25. It cuts through the city and tends to show up in the areas we frequent.
One of the places we take I-25 to visit is the REI Flagship Store. (Coolest facility ever? I think maybe so.) We don't go to REI terribly often, but we go there enough to be familiar with the sights we'll see on the way. Including the occasional stunning vista or two.
But purple mountain majesty aside, I think my favorite thing to see along 25 is the shed warehouse.
Storage, we all know, is a booming industry. My rental house sports a separate 2 car garage along with an additional (empty) shed. My neighbors one one side have a separate 2-car garage as well as a driveway where they like to store their stuff. My neighbors on the other side have three sheds, two of which are 12x20! Every other property adjacent to my little rental has at least one shed, sometimes two or three. Sheds abound. Lots of sheds. Sheds everywhere.
Not that that has anything to do with I like the shed warehouse. I like the shed warehouse simply because of the business name.
Oh yes. This place is called Tough Shed and I love it. Specifically, I love saying the business name out loud as we pass it. Sometimes I'll say it loudly. Sometimes I'll mutter it. You never know, with me. But it makes Brian do a 'say-whaaaa?' every time, because for some reason he is surprised by it. Every time.
Nothing gives this recovering fundie the jollies like a 'sounds like profanity' moment.
(Also, Mom, sorry I said hell the other day.)