fine whine

What sort of person drives a Karmann Ghia with a little Spider-man in the window? It is that very question I pondered on my way home today, driving alongside such a vehicle. The driver turned out to be a late twenties guy who looked like he couldn't care less to be driving a cool classic car. Bah. VW drivers are a different breed, it seems.

Speaking of which, I then noticed a VW Golf driving toward me bearing vanity plates of LILS VW. Lil, from the looks of her, wasn't very happy to be driving a VW either, and in fact looked downright mean. I tried to think of another vanity plate that would be more applicable to Lil, but the best I could imagine that was under eight letters and not rude or profane was SCRU LIL. Which is probably too lewd to get past the folks over at Motor Vehicles, ever vigilant against sexual or drug references on personalized plates. Some of them have crude language knowledges rivaling the dirtiest of Catholic schoolboys, I've heard.

Anyway, it was the thought of such censorship that led to a general musing on the merits of freedom of speech and its extents on the roadways. Said thought was interrupted suddenly by the realization that the Lincoln Town Car right behind me bore plates reading, simply,  PUCK .