1) The Zed Drei came with the make-your-kidneys-bleed sport suspension. Combine that with 40-series rim-protectors on butter-soft alloy rims, and I tend to plan my local routes based on how recently a road has been resurfaced and whether or not there are any axle-breaking bomb craters lurking un-patched in the middle of the travel lane. The GPS does not understand this, no matter how loudly I explain it to the gizmo.
2) When the GPS gives you an inane direction, and then nags you when you don't obey, it is apparently amusing to your passenger when you are reduced to yelling "Shut your whore mouth!" at a little plastic box suction-cupped to your windshield.
3) The law on alcohol and toting in Texas. tl;dr version: Don't.
4) Some boneheaded legislator in Indiana has decided that a 10¢/bag "deposit" on plastic bags at the grocery store is a splendid idea. Every day, I feel more like an extra in Atlas Shrugged. Aside from the questionable philosophical underpinnings of the whole concept, has this asshat ever even been to a grocery store? Generally the cashier has you all rung up before they have any idea how many bags you'll need. Sweet Shiva, I hope this one goes down in parliamentary flames. All I need is another legislative roadblock in the checkout lane; I already have to wait for the guy in the "WWII Veteran" ballcap to pull out his ID and prove to the government's satisfaction that he's old enough to buy a Budweiser.