Thursday, June 30, 2011

Vanity Plates on Children’s Bikes

Who the hell do some kids think they are? Not one kid in history has come even remotely close to earning this magnificent privilege. I know what you’re thinking–Webster–and you’re absolutely correct I forget about Webster. That's my bad. Besides Webster, no kid has done what it takes to rock a sweet, personalized identifier on their bike. And the ones that do have the balls, nay, the audacity to try to pull it off aren't even creative. It's always something super self-indulgent like “Kenneth” or “Amy” or “Dave.” I’m sorry Kenneth, when was it that you were knocking out 100-hour workweeks on Wall Street again? Oh that’s right, NEVER. I didn’t know you were a doctor, Amy. What med school did you go to? One that teaches you how to make crappy art with uncooked pasta and pennies? Never heard of that one. Where’d you do your residency? St. Bieber? Get out of my face. Let me throw a little hypothetical at you, Dr. Amy. My Gam Gam and I are walking down the street when she feels a little pain in her chest. She falls to the ground and you roll by in your little pink Dora the Explorer bike. Thank god, I think to myself, a vanity plate. I run over and ask you to save my sweet Nana and what do you do? You just stare at me like a dumbutt while MeeMaw dies before she’s gotten a chance to tell grandpa she’s been sleeping with the pool man for the past 40 years. So, not only do you kill Bubbe, you send her to hell. Awesome. Thanks. Listen, do us all a favor and lose the pretense until you’ve earned it. That’s all I’m saying. I don't think many of these plates are even registered with their local governments, but let's not get into that.

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