You knew that was coming.
(that’s what she said)
My wife mentioned that she got behind a car with a vanity plate the other day.
Now – for those readers I’ve had for a while, you know I hate vanity plates.
Please disregard the fact that I’ve had TWO of them.
The first one was on my bitchin’ 1970 Oldsmobile 442 when I was 17.
Fuckin’ ay, that’s right.
It was originally because of Rowdy Roddy Piper…my name being “Rodney,” and the car all looking super badass and fast and OHMYGODAMIGONNAGETLAIDINTHISFUCKINGTHINGORWHAT and shit.
When I was thinking of what to get on the plate, I was asking around for some ideas.
Most of them were, ‘eh’..
And then my mother offered up this gem:
“Why don’t you get, “RODNEY”…?”
Jesus H. Christ, mom.
Why don’t you give me a perm while I’m here?
Mom Menendez: “Well..you know, a license plate that says ‘Lyle’ might be nice..”
My other plate was on a screaming red car.
Ironically, that was back in the day where I had just met my wife and getting sex more than 12 times a year and my rod did – on occasion – get red.
Now it’s just black from personal misuse and a reaction to excessive use of makeup and polyester outfits.
Perhaps I’ve said too much.
Getting closer she sees that the plate says this:
Does anyone else here see:
DIE, KIDS!! DIE, KIDS!!
Why would you get this?
My wife has a similar plate, but she’s a teacher in a public school so it’s okay.
(they pass these out as bumper stickers to the Teacher’s Union)
I’m HOPING this is the case.
The other options are:
1) She likes dipping kids in varying food colorings:
The only conclusion here is that this actually says:
This makes me angry.
Angry that I didn’t think of this first.
What the Hell was my mother thinking?
She’s just lucky I didn’t have a shotgun lying around.
I’m pretty sure that’s considered ‘justifiable homicide.’