License To Brag - PART I

I heard something fairly interesting on the radio this morning. Seems that, according to a national survey, Virginia leads the nation as far as vanity license plates go. That’s right, there are more of those moronic personalized plates in Virginia (per capita) than any other state in the nation.
I guess that means there are more morons (per capita) in Virginia than any other state. What? They don’t offer personalized plates in California? I’m sure they’d have us beat by a large margin.
Just think how stupid personalized plates are. Are you thinking? First of all, you pay the state more money than you need to. That’s the dumbest part of the deal. Why in the world would anyone try to figure out a way to pay more than they had to in order to drive their car?
Secondly, what do you get for that extra fee? Well, you get a chance to say something that often no one knows what you’re saying. Personalized license plates are kind of like Millard the Mallard on the Alden Aaroe program – about a hundred years ago or so on WRVA.
Millard (actually the voice of the station’s news director, John Harding) would come on the air and in his Donald Duck-like voice engage in conversation with Aaroe. Now keep in mind that by this point, Aaroe was so senile that he would make Paul Harvey appear lucid. Aaroe would joke with the duck, but the listeners could never understand what the duck was saying. So Aaroe would have to translate. It went like this:

AAROE: So Millard did you do anything exciting this weekend?

MILLARD: dwwaaaah sahhhhhh coe disshussh

AAROE: You drank some Cold Delicious, did you? How was it?

MILLARD: Nigh aw ish kwaaadooobie?

AAROE: (Laughing so hard he was gagging on his saliva) Not all it’s quacked up to be, eh? (More laughter)

Well, coming back to the topic at hand, that’s what most personalized plates are like. If you have to translate them for everyone, why bother with them to begin with?

For instance, I have a friend, no make that acquaintance, I don’t choose to have friends who do personalized plates. Anyway this guy’s plate reads GRZ LGT.

Griz Leg it?
Graze light?

Nope. He calls himself “Greased Lightning”

Clever, huh?

Then I had this cousin. His plate read ROD LV T

Yeah, you guessed it. He, (Rodney) loves his wife Terri. That is until Terri ran off with the guy she worked with. Now his plate reads ROD HT T.

At least he didn’t change it to RD SHT TB

Which would be “Rod shot Terri’s Boss.”

Anyway Rod (and I did change names to protect the stupid) keeps changing his plates and paying dearly for it, to tell us who he has the hots for at any given moment.

The plates I hate the most are the real vanity ones…you know, the plates that are there simply to try and impress. I had a fri…oops, an acquaintance who had plates that read MY LEXUS. Gee, I’m impressed. I’m glad you told me what it was. I’m so stupid I thought you were driving a VW.

Get over yourself. If you want to drive a Lexus, go ahead, but don’t rub my nose in it. I could drive a Lexus if I wanted to. Of course, if I did, my plates would be BLNG 2 BK.
You figure it out.