This past weekend (Friday morning to be exact), my family and I piled into the Family Truckster and drove southeast to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Normally, trips to SC frighten me, due to rampant ignorance, the religious fundamentalism, and the weak beer due to arcane beer laws in that state. However, Hilton Head is like this little paradise surrounded by misery, with beautiful beaches, palmetto trees, beautiful scenery, and a relaxed atmosphere. I think if the Nazi death camps looked like Hilton Head, the Nazis wouldn’t have quite the same reputation.
I knew this road trip would be legendary when I wasn’t even out of Atlanta (hell, I hadn’t even entered Atlanta yet, I was still in Cobb County) when I saw a Chrysler Crossfire convertible with the license plate that said: THE DEX. I love this plate. This is how a vanity plate should look. It should tell you something about the driver. A nickname, a job (but never simply what kind of car he/she drives, like CRSSFR). So, THE DEX meets all accepted criteria. Mind you, THE DEX is still a douchebag, but not because of his vanity plate, but simply because of his nickname. “Hey, are you THE DEX?” “You bet your sweet ass I am,” he replies, while giving the wink-and-a-gun. Wait, no…THE DEX is probably a wink-and-a-double-gun kind if guy. Two finger-guns, one wink. While he makes that clicking sound with his mouth.
Upon crossing the Chattahoochee River on Interstate 75, I entered Fulton County and the city of Atlanta. Almost immediately, I was right behind a commuter car with a bumper sticker that said:
“I wasn’t born a bitch. Men like you made me this way.”
Obviously it’s never a good idea to be behind a bitch so angry that the bitch must have a bumper sticker advertising this fact. You want to pass them (preferably with at least one lane between the two cars) and get as far in front as possible, so when they do “go postal,” the carnage is behind you. Otherwise, you’re stuck in traffic while an angry woman is being tased in the middle of the interstate by state troopers. So, I passed this car on the left, and glanced over to see what an Uber-Bitch looks like. Much to my surprise AND amusement, I saw that the driver was no less than a MAN, BABY! That’s right, somewhere in Atlanta there is a man so pussy-whipped that he’s driving his girlfriend’s car with this sticker on it. If you’re scoring on a scale of 1-10, buying your girlfriend’s/wife’s tampons is a 10, and driving this car is about a 90. I have actually purchased tampons before (and not for a college prank either!), and I can honestly say in comparison to riding in the Bitchmobile, I’d rather hitch a ride in a beat-up white panel van with no windows and Buffalo Bill at the steering wheel, telling me to put the lotion on the skin.
This is just one of a 2-parter. There is still more to discuss about this road trip, from bible quotes, to adult entertainment, to flora and fauna (more fauna, actually).