One of the diversions of sitting in commuter traffic is trying to figure out just what the fuck those vanity plates mean. Take the plate up there. Sure, I bet the guy thought, "'Hot Car One', that's like so righteous, dude" or however they talk in New Hampshire. But to me, at a distance, it looks more like Hot Carl, which is closely related to a Cleveland Steamer or a Rusty Trombone, activities we hesitate to mention this close to Mother's Day.
(Mom, DO NOT Google Cleveland Steamer. Trust me.)
My daughter tells this story about a girl she knew. The girl had a vanity plate that read:
A friend looked at it, puzzled, and said, "Anus tart? What the hell is an anus tart?"
The girl, near tears, said, "It's 'A NEW START.'"
So be careful what you put on the back of your cars, ladies and gentlemen. Or do like me and let the guys in Central Prison decide what your plate will say. There's much less chance you'll sport an unintentional