The Buddha once said, "It's not the destination, but the journey that sucks." It should be noted that this was said by John Buddha, my roommate, and he was talking about going home for Winter Break. And while the traditional, or "Gautama" Buddha achieved enlightenment under the Bodhi tree, John Buddha gets so high that he forgets how to chew.

So, winter break. Going home and seeing old friends is debatably fun, but there's one thing that no one enjoys: actually getting there. Sure, you can fly, but only when you're on acid and wearing a cape. You can fly on an airplane, but that involves standing in long lines and sitting next to ugly people. It's like eating in a dorm cafeteria, except that there's the distinct possibility of FIERY PLUMMETING DEATH.

Hence, flying's not the way to go. The next most logical step is the automobile, which every non-loser in college has. What? You don't have one? Good luck ever feeling a titty. If you're a girl, forget I said that and hop in my car. I'll give you a ride. A ride to the Having Sex With Me store. It's in the mall next to Brookstone.

Back to cars: the perfect mode of transportation. They're affordable, comfortable, personal, and oh wait – they're powered by gasoline. Gasoline, as you know, is made out of dinosaur fossils. I'm not about to start fucking with those guys. Didn't you see that Spielberg movie, "Amistad"? Shit, that movie had nothing to do with dinosaurs, but I still don't want to mess with those dudes. If they find out I've been using their friends to power my Grand Am, I'm going to wind up like that fat guy in Jurassic Park: at a higher risk for heart disease and adult onset diabetes. Obesity is no laughing matter, people. Well, unless a fat guy falls off a ladder and onto a clown, in which case obesity is the raddest thing ever.

Based on this evidence, I think we can all agree that driving is not the way to get home for Christmas. Check this out: trains.

Trains take you from point A to point B, but without all that unnecessary speed and convenience of an airplane. Plus, you're somehow even more likely to die in a train accident than on an airplane. So if you're tired of playing the Super Lotto ticket that is airline crashes, try the Amtrak "Which hand is the gumball in?" guaranteed weekly derailment.

So what's more reliable than taking a train home? I mean, aside from hitchhiking along a lonely road made of land mines and sex offenders. Let me tell you, it's the only way that I get home for Christmas: a Segway.

Sure, it looks awesome. And it zooms along at a neck-breaking twelve mph. But that's not the best part – the best part is the respect you get from people. I like to think that every time someone yells "Nice retard bike, retard" at me, they're giving me a little badge of dignity. That's dignity you can't take away. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to scoot my ass home and, with any luck, be there in time for Easter.

Enjoy these simply festive hotlinks.