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We(heart)gospel (seen on plate) at 1:17 p.m.
Vanity plates. What do they say about you? They say you are way self absorbed. I apologize in advance if I offend anyone I know but I doubt anyone I would know would have these. I speak from experience first off. I had personized license plates on my first car. I was 16. They referenced an 80s lipstick metal band. I still cringe and feel my cheeks turn pink when I picture myself driving around with them. But most importantly, I was self absorbed. Beyond belief. And somehow I got my dad to buy into it and purchase these plates. Thanks Dad.
The Head wants to link to my blog. I'm so flattered. She's so much cooler than me and if it weren't for her, I wouldn't even be here! Well, not literally, I mean she didn't give birth to me or anything. She did give birth to my blog though.
There are many reasons why stories like this make me cringe. The main one is that the mother isn't facing any charges. I'm as anti-law as the next liberal but we all know that children shouldn't be shown how to drive by sitting on a parent's lap. Now they usually aren't bright enough to recreate the scene at such a young age but there is always the possibility.
Below is a tidbit about our friend Britney that made me laugh and laugh:
HER PREROGATIVE: Britney Spears, who canceled part of her 2004 tour due to a knee injury, suing several insurance companies for refusing to pay nearly $10 million in costs, according to Celebrity Justice. The insurers claim Spears was negligent when she failed to tell them about a past knee surgery. Spears claims she forgot about the operation.
I love Britney. I'm so glad she's given up on the singing thing because watching her go barefoot in gas station bathrooms and act just flat out dumb in legal situations is entertainment enough. I don't know who is helping her but you just don't 'forget' about surgery. Even on your knee.
Why did I not know about this incredible time waster before now? You could easily blow an hour here reading about french fries moving across a plate.
And lastly, a word to the man riding his bike next to me while I drove home. I'm driving on a bustling, busy main street in town. You are riding your bike. There is no bike lane. Your only means of protection is a cowboy hat. You swerve into traffic a few times. I have to veer into oncoming traffic so I don't hit you and end up feeling guilty for the rest of my life. Damn you. Damn you, you bicycle riding cowboy.