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:
CAM N LEX
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.