Too Much Information

April 26

Too Much Information

I was driving out of the parking lot of my mega-grocer of choice, minding my own business, when I noticed the license plate on the car in front of me:


The driver was a woman, so I surmised her name must be Camille, or Cammie, and perhaps her husband is named Alex, or (seriously?) Lex.  How . . . precious (insert mildly sarcastic tone or discreet gagging noises, whichever you prefer).

Being the quick study that I am, however, I quickly noticed that the car itself was a Camry.  Ah-ha!  So her other car, her husband’s car, must be a Lexus.  Right.

Then the thought struck me.  Maybe her name is Cammie and she drives a Camry.  And maybe she does have a husband named Alex and he does drive a Lexus (insert full projectile vomiting noises here).  As they say, “An ounce of pretention* is worth a pound of manure.”  Bonus points to you if you leave a comment and correctly identify the movie from which I pulled that little bit ‘o wisdom.

Fast forward several weeks to yesterday.  Once again, I’m just driving along and minding my own business when I notice the license plate on the car in front of me:


Is that per week or per day?  Dude, either way, it’s too much information.

And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.

*Yes, yes, I know.  It should be pretentiousness, but I didn’t write the movie.  Unfortunately.  Extra bonus points if you can prove to me I’ve incorrectly quoted the movie, because that is entirely possible, though highly unlikely.

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