James Unk, MD, must have had a terrible time…
I’m surprised off-duty TSA agents aren’t constantly trying to get you arrested. License plates that say “DRUNK” are as dangerous as a shirt with a picture of a bomb on it!
A Dr. Unk has played a role in this, tho not that one.
My high school girlfriend tried to get DUI, but she was denied. I don’t see why, it would only have been truth in advertising.
The link to the article doesn’t work.
It should point to
Uh, everything’s under control. Situation normal.
This sat in drafts for a bit and was published by mistake. The linkage to the BBS got mucked up. Hopefully fixed.
I’m opposed to all vanity plates, I just want to say - sweet Carrera. However, the top up on that lovely sunny day makes me sad…
My spouse and I were almost killed by a drunk driver…and I find the plates hilarious. Now that I know the story behind them if I happen to see your car out and about I’ll be the guy who yells, “HEY DEAN!”
A favorite I saw in Malibu on a Corvette was IDOXLR8
On a Mustang in ever non-offensive Fargo, ND was ISKNSWL
How that maiden got that one past The Greater Lutheran Council is beyond me.
I saw some fancy Teutonic car driving through Sherman Oaks once with a plate that read PUDENDA. Always wondered about the thinking behind that one.
My Cougar had this plate for over a decade after it became smog-exempt:
But eventually I got tired of paying the extra $78 a year, even though it went to the Yosemite Conservancy. Now I just have some rando plate.
Jason, I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s a Taco?
Toyota Tacoma, near twin to the famed Hi-Lux.
Did you at scratch the paint off the “ota”?
I tend to respect my cars and not mark or mar them up beyond the plates. The Vanagon’s get the obligatory sticker-ing. The Audi 5000 had an era-correct SPINAL TAP vinyl decal across the back window.
That Tacoma was a wonderful car. Not as much fun for camping or fishing as the Vanagon, but a hell of a lot more reliable. In my early 30s friends still wanted me to a) help them move and b) take stuff to the dump for them far too often. Being the pal with a pick-up truck close to the city is a thing I did not enjoy.
Vanity plates can be a source of public interaction, like having a cute puppy. When I was younger I ran around with some variation of LooseNut (can’t remember the spelling) and a license plate bracket on the rear that said “at the wheel.” I stopped renewing it. Too much interaction.
On the front of a slightly modified 1995 Acura Integra GSR I had a bracket that read, “Abandon hope, all ye who enter under here.” Fortunately I never ran over anyone…
Heh… not me. I respect only the respectable ones. I wish I had pictures of my 1977 Mustang II, the blue one with the craptacular 2300cc four-banger with an ill-advised horsepower cam (which meant it had next to no torque off-idle, so it was an absolute slug until you managed to get it over fifty). The buddy of mine who had done that engine rebuild when it was his first car also sprayed it metallic blue, and then used a rotary sander to remove the overspray from the windshield, with predictable results: even broadest daylight looked all swirly like Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
After my first wife accidentally wrecked the driver’s door, I began seriously disrespecting that car. I cut a sunroof into it with a torch, to facilitate tossing the papers on my rural paper route. And I hand-painted the fake woodgrain instrument cluster with bright neon colors to indicate what all the gauges were. I really miss that cluster. Best-looking and most user-friendly automotive interface I ever owned, once I was through with it.
I also mounted a pair of bull’s horns on the hood briefly, but it looked a bit too much like a villain’s mustache, so that didn’t last. Most redneck car I’ve ever owned.
Sounds like there’s a list.
It does edge out the '68 F250 Camper Special, as well as the '78 Honda Accord hatchback with no hood and neon-orange trim rings. And the '78 Mercury Zephyr wagon that those same bull horns originally rode on. And the '62 Buick Skylark with five (5!) rearview mirrors and curb-feelers on both sides… though that wasn’t so much redneck as it was the former property of a quite elderly and cautious gentleman.
Oh the memories.