"I Love Boobs"

One of the funniest things I've seen lately, other than Ms. Douglas, the Star Wars Trumpet Solo Girl on Youtube (again and again and again), was this little message, an honest, thoughtful message written on the back of someone's Honda. "I LOVE BOOBS." That says it all. At least they were honest. "They" being whomever took the time and trouble to write it in the dirt on someone else's car. I thought it would be even funnier if it was on my car, but then it would go from being funny to strangely uncomfortable, seeing as how I actually carry a hefty cargo... Which I hate. I really hate having them just, well, out there. But even so, it was still funny seeing it written.

Ah, saying what's on your mind. Even if it's stupid as sh*t. Puts me in mind that I'd really like to have a reader board drilled into the top of my head, so when I go walking with my young son and friends (this being a bi-annual event), I can let the inconsiderate drivers know that they're pissing me off with their high-speed antics, and that the posted speed limit of 15 mph going up to my street is posted as such for a very good reason... Not that they'd care.

Maybe not a reader board... Maybe a loud speaker wired to a hands-free microphone. That way I could just bark at them and they could bask the free advice I'd be handing out at no cost to them. Then again, it would probably sound more like a sex-show on tape, what with a lengthy walk pushing a jogger up a steep hill resulting in my extremely labored gasping and moaning. Might come across more like geriatric amore on a stairmaster. Eeew.

How about a big sandwich sign? What are they called again, sandwich boards? The kind you wear with a hot dog hat on your head? Could be good... But then again, it would have to be a one size fits all kind of comment, like "Are you sure that's a good idea?" That way, it would apply to speeders, vandals and public nose-pickers alike. No need to single any person out in particular. And then I couldn't get slapped with a discrimination lawsuit. Sweet.

Of course, what prompted this reverie was an instance, not an 'incident' tonight, in which I went low-tech old-school on some punk kid driving his daddy's Toyota Thundra - is it Thundra or Tundra? - up our hill at about 30 mph. Our windows were down, and without much forethought, I bellowed, "Slow the hell down, punk!" Ooops. His windows were down, too. Poor little whippersnapper. He slowed up, just in time to safely round the corner and proceed into the intersection with caution. I felt I had done my good deed for the week, and added an element of safety to the world in which we live. And it didn't cost me or the kid in question anything, no real heated exchange, no explaining, no drama. Just me speaking my mind. End of story. It felt really good.

But just in case I ever find anything unsavory written in the dirt on back of my car, I'll know who did it -- took the little f*cker's license plate down just to be sure.