Am not a slogan-wearing, bumper-sticking type girl, uh, woman. I do have one t-shirt with writing on it, which I don’t wear often but should – as a daily uniform. It says, “I’d like to apologize in advance for my behavior tonight“. And I did want another, from a real place called, “Bite Me Bait Camp” but it went out of business, pre-BP. My car doesn’t wear accessories, either. I live in a state where the Governor threatens succession from time to time. I live in a city where you can be shot and killed for changing lanes on the freeway.
Automotive attitude is a death wish. Or not. Because there are an awful lot of bumper stickers out there. I read them, I write them down, I snicker. And say to the driver of sticker car, under my breath with the windows rolled up, “You are as good as dead, dumb ass”. And sometimes I laugh. Because I am in desperate need of a vacation and have kitty litter for brains. Sharing:
- “If it has tires or testicles, it’s gonna give you problems.”
- “Let me guess. You played banjo in Deliverance.”
- “Cover me, I’m changing lanes.” (this is real)
- “I don’t care who you are, what you are driving, or where you’d rather be.”
- “The gene pool could use a little chlorine.”
- “My child was inmate of the month at the county jail.”
- “Hokey Pokey Anonymous. Where you can turn yourself around.”
- “Hit me. I need money.”
- “Don’t steal – the government doesn’t like competition.”
- “I wouldn’t be caught dead with a necrophiliac.” (C-REEPY)
- “Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.”
- “No money in this vehicle. Driver is married.”
- “I’ve run out of sick days so I’m calling dead.”
- “If you drink like a fish, swim – don’t drive.”
- “If only closed minds came with closed mouths.”
- “Go ahead and honk. I’m reloading.” (told you about where I live)
If I wrote copy for bumper stickers, I might put the following on my car:
- TAKE THE BUS, DAMN IT!
- GET OFF THE PHONE, DAMN IT!
- STOP ADMIRING YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AND DRIVE, DAMN IT!
- MONSTER TRUCKS ARE FOR MONSTERS, DAMN IT!
- DEFENSIVE DRIVING REQUIRES ARTILLERY, DAMN IT!
- PLEASE DON’T KILL ME BECAUSE YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE, DAMN IT!
Mea culpa for the page rage. Feel so much better. God-willing and the creek don’t rise (you have seen the news), next week, Cowgirl and I will be sitting with Lady Di on her glorious porch in a land far, far away from here. Snickering and howling and laughing our guts out. With not a bumper sticker in sight.