F150online Forums - You Know You're From Houston

I found this while surfing around on another board.

Too true!

"YOU KNOW YOU'RE FROM HOUSTON IF:

The "farm-to-market" roads have seven lanes.

You have to turn on the air conditioning in January,
two days after a low of 29 degrees.

Everybody has a story of the Flying Roach the size
of the Taco Bell Chihuahua.

When you see your neighbor dancing around the
front yard, you don't think he's won the Publisher's
Clearing House Sweepstakes; you know that he just
stepped in a fire ant bed.

You're on your way to work one FEBRUARY morning and
suddenly you're trapped in a traffic jam caused by a chuck
wagon and fifty horses - with riders - and you look around
to see that everybody in the trucks around you is wearing
a cowboy hat.

The name "Bud Adams" makes people snarl, and
"Bum Phillips" doesn't mean bad screwdriver.

"Luv ya Blue" still makes you smile, even if you
did run the Oilers out of town.

You know that the Astrodome will always be the
Eighth Wonder of the World.

You come to work in short sleeves and walk out at
noon to find that a "blue northern" has blown through
and the temperature has dropped 40 degrees.

Your neighbor's Christmas yard decorations are a
re-creation of the gunfight at the OK Corral, complete
with a ten-foot tree decorated with boots and cowboy
hats, and a Santa Claus who looks a lot like Wyatt Earp.

You wander into a section of town where you can't read
the street signs because they're written in Asian characters
instead of English, but you don't care because you
can get great prices on fake designer merchandise.

You go to an art festival and you're almost run down by
hand-holding cross-dressers on roller blades.

You think "Y'all" is perfectly good usage if you're
referring to more than one person.

For a Chili Cook off, you'll use anything from armadillo
to frog's legs, but you know that the only GOOD chili is
made with chopped - not ground beef, and it has NO
beans and NO tomatoes.

Spring is not a season, Katy is not lady, and
1960 is not a year.

Society matrons of "a certain age" still sport big
hair and faces that have gone east, west, and
north rather than south.

You can leave your house, head out of town, and an
hour later you still haven't left the city limits. During
rush-hour, you haven't left your NEIGHBORHOOD.

You've never seen I-45 and I-10 in any condition
other than under construction - and you've lived here
for more than 30 years.

You know that "Clutch City" has nothing to do with
automobile transmissions.

"The Dream" is not a fantasy.

A 747 with the Space Shuttle riding piggyback has
actually flown low right overhead, and nobody paid any
attention to it.

You know that while saving you money, "Mattress Mac"
has amassed more than the U.S. treasury.

You see nothing unusual about an eighty-something former
sheriff's deputy who wears a white pompadour toupee
and blue sunglasses, mispronounces names, allows
televising of his frequent plastic surgeries, seems unnaturally
obsessed with slime in the ice machine, and screams
"MAR-VIN ZIND-ler, iiiii-witness news" into a television
camera every night. But some folks are still upset with
him for shutting down the Chicken Ranch.

If the humidity is below 90 percent,
it's a GOOD hair day."